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Chapter Text

18th May 2014

“Roy?” 

“Yes?” 

“Shut up,” Moss murmured, leaning forward and kissing him gently. Roy dropped the menu, his hands going straight to Moss’ back, pulling him closer. Moss could have happily stayed there kissing Roy all night, the two of them pressed together under the low lamplight of Roy’s living room. However, after merely five minutes, Roy broke away. Moss pouted a little, looking at him. Roy chuckled, reaching forward and delicately straightening Moss’ askew glasses. 

“I think I love you, Moss,” he whispered. 

Moss flew forward, pulling Roy into a tight, near-suffocating hug. Roy hugged him straight back, and they stayed like that for a while, holding each other close. 

“I love you too,” Moss murmured in Roy’s ear. “I love you so much.” 

Roy made a small, choked sound. It sounded uncannily like a sob. “Are you crying?” 

“Happy tears,” Roy mumbled. “Happy tears, baby.”

Moss leaned back, letting his boyfriend go. Roy made a small noise. He hadn’t wanted Moss to let go of him yet. Couldn’t he have just let him finish up his little cry and get himself all sorted first? 

“Are you sure?” Moss asked. Roy couldn’t but think that he sounded nervous. “It’s just--” 

Before the other could finish his sentence, Roy reached forward and grabbed his tie, pulling him forward and kissing him roughly. Moss made a small noise, almost like a squeak, but soon melted into it. The Irishman shivered a little as his best friend’s hands almost nervously lifted his shirt a little and slipped under, his fingers dancing along his shoulder blades. His hands were cold, Roy thought with a small smile. 

Pulling Moss closer, he opened his mouth a little more, deepening the kiss. A little to his surprise, Moss reciprocated. Oh, he damn well reciprocated. Where had he learned to kiss like this? When they had kissed in Amsterdam, it had been deep, hungry kisses, no real sweetness to them. They had been drunk, though. And when they had kissed outside of the gas works, the kisses had been sloppy, Moss’ mouth acting like more of a blockade to keep him pressed up, frozen, against the garage doors. But here, sitting on Roy’s old moth-eaten sofa…? Somehow, Moss managed to perfectly balance romantic intimacy and unbridled passion. Roy wasn’t sure he’d ever kissed anyone who kissed quite like Moss did. 

Forcing himself to move a little, Roy raised his hands and reached for Moss’ tie. He pulled it off in one clean motion and threw it across the room. It landed on top of some ugly lamp that had come with the flat. He felt Moss smile against him. Roy smiled back. Well, it wasn’t like he wasn’t enjoying it, was it? 

Before Roy knew what was happening, Moss was breaking away and moving around. Roy opened his mouth, about to ask what Moss was doing ( why had he stopped? ) when all of a sudden his best friend was sitting on his lap. Well, maybe straddling would be a more accurate word. Moss’ thighs were pinning him down in place, and his lips were on Roy’s neck, gently exploring the sensitive skin there. Roy let out a small noise from the back of his throat.  

This… this was uncharted territory, he thought as he sat there, worrying about what to do with his hands, and maybe his shirt. If this had been a woman, he knew exactly where his hands would have been: probably on her bra, struggling with the clasp at the back (or front, because apparently that was a thing). Thing is, Moss didn’t wear a bra. Because Moss is… y’know, a guy. 

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” 

“I love you,” Moss whispered breathlessly between kisses. His lips were trailing further down Roy’s neck, towards his collarbone. “I love you so much.” 

“Eyyy look, there he is, the poofter!” 

Moss’ hands were moving out from under his shirt, tugging at the thin material, pulling it over his head and off of him. That too was thrown in the direction of the lamp. As if on instinct, Roy found himself reaching for the buttons on Moss’ shirt, clumsily undoing them. 

“Have a good time did you last night, fairy boy?” 

Moss’ hand was on his belt buckle. He was looking at him, a questioning look in his eyes. 

“Nancy boy!” 

“Roy? Is this okay?” 

“Fucking bender.” 

“Roy?” 

“Faggot!” 

“I can’t do this!” Roy blurted, pulling away. He leaned as far back as he could, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Moss looked at him, his eyes full of hurt and confusion. His hands were still on Roy’s belt buckle. God , how Roy wished he could just let Moss keep going, keep going, keep going… 

“Was it me?” Moss asked. He sounded nervous, his voice all small and timid. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, nothing like that,” Roy said quickly. Moss bit his lip, but moved his hands away. Actually, he moved off of Roy entirely, sitting down next to him. They didn’t meet each other’s eyes for a moment, both staring down at their laps. Roy swallowed nervously as he buried his trembling hands in his pockets. Moss folded his arms over his chest, looking over to the side. “This is awkward,” Roy murmured after a good minute of silence. Moss let out a low chuckle. 

“A little bit.” 

They both laughed a little, but the sounds were strained and clearly fake. They sat in silence for a little while longer, Moss looking out of the window whilst Roy stared at his lap trying to contain tears, until Moss cleared his throat and got up from the sofa. 

“Look, it’s getting late,” he said a little awkwardly, putting his hands in his pockets and glancing down at his shoes. Roy looked up. He knew what it really meant when people said that: you screwed this up . He stared at Moss as the other went over to the lamp, retrieving his tie as he did his shirt back up. “I should--” 

“Please don’t go!” Roy interrupted, jumping up from the sofa. “I, ah… I didn’t mean it! We can keep going, if you want.” 

Moss gave him a small, sad smile. He came forward and rested his hand on Roy’s cheek, kissing him softly. When Roy tried to once again deepen this kiss again, though, he pulled away. 

“I think it’s best if I don’t stay here tonight,” he said. “For both of us.” 

“Well…” Roy started to say, but he soon trailed off when he realised that he had no idea what to say. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure,” Moss said. He gave Roy another smile before walking over towards the front door, grabbing his bag as he did so. Roy followed him. 

“Do you want me to pick you up for work tomorrow?” he asked, a last-ditch attempt to try and even out the atmosphere a little bit despite the apprehension still sitting in the pit of his stomach. Moss smiled at him. 

“Yeah, that’d be okay,” he replied. Roy gave him a weak smile. Moss leaned forward and pressed another quick kiss to Roy’s lips. “Bye.” 

“Yeah, bye.” 

Roy made his way back to the living room, pulling his t-shirt back on as he watched Moss walk away through the window. He sighed heavily, leaning forward and resting his forehead on the glass. 

He’d fucked up. He’d royally fucked up. He and Moss had been… whatever they were for a mere few hours and already he had screwed everything up. He’d initiated this! He was the one who had kissed first! Why was it only now that his mind was stopping him? 

He sighed again. All of a sudden, he had the strongest urge to go to his bedroom, crawl underneath his bed and hide there until the next morning. He shook his head, running his hand down his face. 

He had leftovers in the fridge, but he couldn’t be bothered to go and heat them up. Anyway, the pit of his stomach was still heavy with guilt. Even if he’d wanted to eat, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to. He sighed heavily again, forcing himself to move and go into the bedroom. 

“Could have not been alone tonight,” he murmured. “But you screwed it up.” 

Needless to say, he did not sleep well that night. 

***

By the time the next morning came, Roy was feeling no easier. In fact, the feeling of trepidation buried deep within him had swelled. It was starting to feel as if it was backing up into his throat, trying to choke him out and keep him down. He had been seriously considering calling in sick and just not showing up to work so he didn’t have to face Moss, but then he remembered that he was supposed to be taking the other to work, and he didn’t have it in him to leave his best friend out in the cold with the risk of him being late to work. So instead of moping, he made himself get up out of bed, forced himself to eat something (even if that something was just a piece of bread and butter) and just managed to remember to change his shirt before grabbing his car keys, locking the front door behind him and making his way to Moss’. 

Moss was waiting at the window when he pulled up. He beeped his horn and raised his hand to him, smiling when Moss grinned and waved back at him. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched Moss stand on the doorstep, being talked to by his mother. It had been a while since he’d seen Mrs Moss. She looked older than he remembered, her hair having gone completely grey now. Even so, she still had that same light in her eyes when she hugged her son. She kissed him on the cheek, and then Moss ran up the path towards the car. 

“Morning,” Moss said as he slipped into the passenger seat, shutting the door and leaning over to press a kiss to Roy’s cheek. 

“Morning,” Roy murmured back. His heart had plummeted to his feet. Yep, definitely should have stayed in bed, he thought. 

Neither of them really said much most of the way to work, just the odd bit about work and the weather and such. Roy kept his eyes glued to the road, trying to ignore the way Moss’ eyes were fixed on him. 

Roy had really thought they were going to make it to work without talking at all. 

Of course, London traffic intervened. They were no more than five minutes away from work when the traffic ground to a halt and they were stuck behind a good twenty cars. Hazard lights and car horns started to go up all around them. Roy made a frustrated noise, letting his head fall back onto the headrest. 

“We’re going to be late,” Moss said, biting his lip nervously. 

“Moss, we’re basically in charge now, it doesn’t really matter,” Roy replied through gritted teeth. Moss made a small understanding noise. They both fell quiet for a little while longer. And then: 

“I think we should talk about last night.” 

Roy groaned, burying his head in his hands. Moss gave him a worried look, reaching forward and putting his hand on Roy’s thigh. “Roy, you know we have to.” 

“I really don’t want to,” Roy said, his tone more than a little whiny. 

“Why not?” Moss asked. 

“I don’t know, okay?” Roy huffed again, taking his face out of his hands. He turned towards his best friend. “Look, you didn’t do anything wrong. I promise. You were… great. You really were. I just…” 

“Just what?” Moss said. He sounded fierce, like he was not going to stop at anything to get an answer. “We were kissing, a kiss that you started, and then all of sudden you started… freaking out!” 

“It’s nothing, Moss.” 

“Roy, tell me what’s going on!” Moss yelled. Roy looked over at him, a little shocked. “I love you, but I need to know what’s going on with you!” He let his voice soften, reaching over and resting his hand over Roy’s. “I can’t keep doing what I want when it might be hurting you.” 

That sentence hung in the air, stifling the air between them. Roy moved forward, opened his mouth to say something…

Then the traffic started moving, and the moment was gone.

Chapter Text

“You’re both very late!” Jen exclaimed as soon as they walked into the office. They both gave her a confused look. Roy headed to his desk and threw his bag down at his feet. Moss unzipped his coat, watching the Irishman worriedly as he sat and began to dig through his bag. Jen furrowed her eyebrows, looking between them with her arms folded. “What’s wrong with you two?” 

“Nothing,” they both murmured, staring down at their respective desks. Jen sighed. 

“Well whatever it is, we don’t have time for it,” she said. “You know how we’ve been trying to unravel Douglas’ crazy messed-up accounts since we’ve been up here?” 

“What about it?” Roy asked as he got up and headed over to the coffee machine. 

“If we don’t figure it out within the next month, the police are coming in and taking over,” she said. The other two looked up at her, eyes widening. “Everyone in this building will lose their jobs, and the three of us will never be able to find another job.” 

“There’s no way we can sort that shitshow out in a month,” Roy replied. Moss nodded in agreement. 

“Moss, you’re clever,” Jen said a little desperately, turning to the other man. Roy shook his head in disbelief, throwing his hands up before turning away from the two of them to focus on the coffee instead. Moss shrugged a little, looking down at his desk. “Can you figure it out?” 

“Well, I suppose I could give it a go…” he said, sounding nervous. He beckoned Jen over and pulled up the company’s accounting database. Jen made a face as she looked over it. To her, it looked like a scrambling of letters and numbers that made absolutely no sense, but it clearly meant something to Moss, as he was gesturing to certain parts in a very assertive manner. “But it’s all layered, hidden and full of weird codes. There could be hundreds of secret accounts hidden away that we’ll struggle to get to.” 

“I have no idea what Douglas was doing,” Jen groaned, resting her forehead on the desk and letting out a frustrated noise. 

“Tax avoidance, probably,” Roy said from the other side of the room. The two looked over to him, confused. He shrugged at them. “What? He was a greedy git! All he probably wanted was more money.” 

The other two fell silent for a moment, thinking this over. Moss shot Roy a smile, turning to Jen. 

“Jen, we need to move back downstairs,” he said. Jen pursed her lips, standing upright and huffing through her nose. 

“Moss, for the six hundredth time--”

“No, he’s right,” Roy cut in. Jen shot him a deadly glare, but that didn’t stop him. 

“Downstairs, Roy and I are connected to all of the company’s databases, payroll schemes and accounts,” Moss explained. “Up here, the computers have more restrictions. It’s harder to dig around and look for anything suspicious. Plus, we have access to all the deleted materials from the last twelve months.” 

“Why do you have that?” Jen asked a little incredulously. Both of the boys gave her a look that seemed to say are you really asking that ? 

“ Douglas was in charge of this place,” Roy said. He sounded disdainful, as if slightly disgusted that Douglas could have ever been in a position of power. “About once a week he’d delete something important. We learned to compromise.” 

“He used to think we’d somehow ‘time travelled’ to get his things back,” Moss said, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. He sighed, shaking his head and folding his arms over his chest. “If only.”

Jen decided to ignore that. She stepped backwards, so she could look at them both. 

“So you’re saying that all we have to do is go through this deleted database thingy-ma-jig and it’ll tell us what Douglas did?” she asked. They both looked a little uncomfortable at this, glancing over at each other. Moss shrugged away, his gaze falling to his shoes: a sure-fire sign that he wasn’t sure about what he was saying.

“It’s an option,” Roy said. “But it’s not guaranteed to work, Jen. You have to understand that.” 

Jen nodded, putting her head in her hands for a moment. Moss and Roy watched her, worried expressions of their face as she took a few deep breaths and her shoulders began to shake. Then she shook herself, brought her face out of her hands and fixed the boys with a look. 

“Well, we haven’t got any other option, have we?” 

***

By the time lunchtime rolled around, they were happily settled back downstairs in the basement. 

They had sent Douglas down here, before when he had needed to hide. They had half-expected him to still be there, lying on the sofa and watching the television, but he had disappeared. The office, however, was almost completely trashed, food cartons and old newspapers and wrappers all over the room. Moss’ face had been a right picture when they’d walked in. He’d spent the whole morning cleaning the room, whilst Roy had set up the computers once more and Jen had sat in her office doing her nails. Douglas hadn’t even left a note, which made the three of them a little annoyed. If he’d told them where he was, they could have tried to track him down and get some information. 

“I’m going out to get lunch,” Roy said at about one, finishing with Moss’ computer with one final click. Satisfied, he stood up and looked around the office. Moss’ head poked up from behind the sofa, and Jen came to the door of her office. “Does anyone want anything?” 

“No, thank you,” Moss replied before disappearing back behind the sofa. Jen shot him a look, moving quickly to block the door. 

“Jen, c’mon,” Roy said, his voice a little begging. She glared at him. 

“ I will go and fetch lunch,” she said. “I’ll even pay for it, but you are going to stay here and you two are going to sort out whatever the hell is going on between you.” 

Before Roy could stop her, she opened the door and ran out of the office, shutting the door behind her. Immediately, he tried the door, but found it blocked. He let out a deep, shaky breath, leaning his head against the closed door and closing his eyes. He could hear Moss rustling around in the background. 

“You keep saying it wasn’t something I did,” Moss said quietly. He didn’t appear from behind the sofa, and he sounded as if he was talking to the floor rather than Roy. Not that Roy could make himself look up or even move. “But you won’t tell me what happened.” There was a pause. Roy screwed his eyes even tighter shut, taking another deep breath. “So it has to be me.” 

More shifting. Roy forced himself to open his eyes, and he turned to face Moss, who was now hanging over the back of the sofa. He was looking at him with wide, teary eyes. “I went too fast. I was so absorbed with what I wanted that I forgot that you might not be ready. I just…” Moss sighed frustratedly, looking down at the floor. Roy opened his mouth, desperate to say something, anything , but no words came out. Moss looked back up. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better, I promise. This can be done at your speed.” 

Roy pursed his lips. He could feel the lump forming in his throat, the tears coming to his eyes. Clenching his fist, he looked down at the floor. He sniffed heavily. 

“But what if I don’t know what my speed is?” he whispered as a single tear slipped down his cheek. 

Moss looked at him, his lips parting a little as if he was about to start talking. He never did, instead getting up and coming around from behind the sofa. Reaching forward, he took both of Roy’s hands into his. Roy bent his head, letting out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sob. 

“Then we'll figure out what your speed is,” Moss said, his voice low and comforting. He squeezed Roy’s hands. “ Together. ” 

Roy let go of Moss’ hand, reaching forward and pulling Moss into a tight hug. Moss smiled a little against his best friend’s shoulder as he felt Roy’s hands tighten on his shirt. They stayed like that for a little while longer, Roy quietly crying into Moss’ shirt and Moss rubbing comforting circles into his back. Occasionally, Moss would murmur reassuring things into Roy’s ear, simple things in an attempt to show him that it was alright, he was here for him. 

“I’ll tell you,” Roy said once they let each other go. He dried his eyes on the back of his hand. Moss smiled at him, nodding. “But… in time, okay? I have some stuff I have to work through first.” 

“Okay,” Moss said with a small, strained smile. “Whatever you want.” 

***

When he got home that night-- after dropping Moss off home, of course-- Roy went straight to bed and thought. 

It had been a long time since he had visited this corner of his mind. For so long it had been so deeply buried, quashed by the obsessive need to have a girlfriend and creepy leching behaviours that simply screamed overcompensation, that at first he wasn’t sure he could actually get there. Once he thought about the day before, with the kiss in the bathroom and then last night in his living room, though, it didn’t take long. As a teenager, he had frequented this corner rather a lot. Not that he ever told anyone. No, that got hidden away along with the pictures and the fitness magazines he stole when he was working his Saturday job at the local newsagent. 

The first time he ever remembered having feelings for a boy was when he was just eight years old. It had been Seamus McNulty, the butcher’s son who was in his class. Seamus was tall, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He didn’t remember much else about him now. What he did remember was sitting with him behind the climbing frame, leaning forward and trying to kiss him, because that’s what people did when they liked each other. 

Luckily, Seamus never told anybody about that.

Next, it had been Kieran Walsh three years later. A stocky boy who was (at the time) slightly shorter than Roy, Kieran was the son of the town’s baker. They had been camping out in the field next to Kieran’s house with a few other boys, and had been whispering quietly to each other whilst the others were asleep when, out of the blue, Kieran asked him if he’d ever kissed another boy. Hedging his bets, Roy told him that he hadn’t. That’s when Kieran asked him well, would he like to try it? Not one to ignore that warm, fuzzy feeling deep in his belly, Roy had said yes, and proceeded to have his first (proper) kiss (of course, as far as everyone else knew, his official first kiss would actually happen a few months later with Cindy O’Connor at the travelling funfair). 

Kieran, true to his word, had not told a soul about that night. 

As puberty progressed, he began to notice his attraction towards both guys and girls growing stronger. In order to fit in, he would joke around with his mates in school like everyone else did, focusing on girls whenever he could, but deep down inside something was always uneasy. That’s when he started sneakily acquiring pictures of men, all toned muscles and abs and bronzed skin. He hid them in a shoebox which he hid below the loose floorboard under his bed. When he started working at the newsagents at fourteen, the mens’ fitness magazines caught his eye and he couldn’t resist. Every week when the new stock came in, he would sneak a copy of Men’s Fitness and a copy of Playboy into his bag to hide underneath the floorboard. 

It wasn’t until he was sixteen that anything major happened. 

The boy’s name was Jack O’Sullivan. He had been in town for the week visiting family. It had been his last night before he went home. There had been a party, and--

No. He wasn’t ready to go there. Not yet. 

He sighed heavily, rolling onto his side. His stomach rumbled loudly. Could he be bothered to get up and get food? Nah, he thought. Anyway, he had half a tube of only slightly scale Pringles stashed under the bed. Pulling the tube out, he opened it up and began to munch. 

How could Moss be so… chill with who he was attracted to? Roy couldn’t really wrap his head around it. Moss was the most high-strung person he knew: he was always stressing about one thing or another. Okay, so Roy knew he didn’t know the full story, but he still couldn’t understand how Moss could be so okay with it all now. 

Now, it wasn’t like Roy’s parents were homophobic. Far from it, in fact. They had actually spent most of Roy’s teenage years actively expressing how they thought gay people should have more rights, or how it was silly to say that AIDs could only be caught by promiscuous gay men. He had a sneaking suspicion that they may have found one of his magazines at some point. And yet still… 

It was like there was this immovable blockade in his head. The more he tried to shift it, the more and more he would try and wish it away, the bigger it seemed to become. It towered over him, making him feel small and weak and like he could just run and hide, hide away from the rest of the world. Before, he had given in to this blockade, hiding everything away, only indulging when he was sure no-one would find out. But now? 

He wasn’t so sure that he wanted to hide anymore.

Chapter Text

The next morning, when he picked Moss up, Roy could tell that his best friend was stressed.

“You alright?” he asked as Moss slid into the passenger seat. The other murmured something back in response, shutting the door and pulling his phone out straight away. Roy gave him a strange look as he pulled out. “Is it just a bad day or should I be worried?” 

“What?” Moss said, looking up from his phone and over to Roy. When Roy glanced over, he couldn’t help but notice how adorable Moss looked, his nose all scrunched up in confusion and his eyebrows furrowed. “No, I’m… fine.” 

“You sure?” Roy said. 

“Yeah, sorry, I just…” Moss made a frustrated noise, throwing his phone down onto his lap. He ran his hand along his thigh. “I’ve been up all night trying to figure out how exactly Douglas might have hidden the expenses.” 

“And?” Roy asked. All of a sudden, a car pulled out in front of him and he slammed the brakes on, throwing them both forward. Roy beeped his horn, yelling some swear words and making some rude gestures at the other driver. Moss gave him a look, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“ How did you ever pass your driving test?” he asked. Roy glared at him as he pulled out of the junction. 

“What did you find out?” the Irishman said. 

“Well, I think he might have used two different strategies together,” Moss explained. “An umbrella payroll scheme and shell companies. They’re both technically legal, but it’s shady.” 

Roy made a face as he tried to figure out what Moss was talking about. Eventually, he gave up and glanced back at his best friend. 

“What are they?” 

“I’m not too sure myself,” Moss replied. “From what I read, an umbrella payroll scheme is when someone’s salary is divided into a small payment which goes through the payroll and is subject to income tax, so that you are only paying tax on some of it, and a much larger payment without any tax liability or national insurance taken off it.” 

“So basically you get away with not paying tax and stuff?” Roy said. 

“On up to ninety-five percent of your salary. Douglas might have done this to get away from the high tax rates on his huge salary.” 

“That doesn’t seem legal.” 

Moss shrugged. 

“It isn’t, really,” he said. “It toes the line between tax avoidance and tax evasion.” 

“What’s the difference?” 

“One is legal, the other isn’t.” 

“Ah.” 

They were both quiet for a little while longer, Roy focusing on the road and Moss focusing back on his phone. When they had to stop for a red light, the Irishman turned back to his friend. 

“What’s a shell company, then?” he asked. 

“A company that only exists on paper,” Moss replied. He clicked his phone off, turning to Roy with bright eyes. Clearly the idea of this excited and fascinated him. “There’s no employees. There’s no offices. It’s not technically illegal, but if Douglas had money he didn’t want people knowing about, it’s probably in one of those out in the Cayman Islands or something.” 

“You seem way too happy about this,” Roy commented. The light turned green, and they started moving again. Moss grinned at him. 

“If the extra money is in one of these companies, it’ll be easy to get back!” he said with a smile. “The payroll, that might be harder to get around, but hopefully there will be enough in the shell company to settle the difference.” 

“You really think we can fix this?” Roy asked as they pulled into the car park. Moss smiled at him, nodding. 

“If this is what he’s done then yeah, probably.” 

Roy smiled back at him as a warm feeling washed over him. That tended to happen a lot when he looked at Moss. He had been about to push it now, just like always, when he remembered what he had said to himself the night before. A little nervously, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Moss’ cheek. Just a quick kiss, nothing special. 

The wide, starry-eyed grin he got back from Moss was more than enough to make the strange uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. 

***

When Jen heard about Moss’ theory, she had leapt out of her chair and pulled him into a tight hug, her arms slung around his neck. Moss had frozen, looking to Roy in utter panic. Roy had simply tried to smile at him as he ignored the pang of jealousy twisting in his chest. 

The rest of the week was devoted to them running through the accounting databases, looking for any evidence of any shell companies or strange transactions. Every day, Roy would pick Moss up and take him home, but they still Roy didn’t tell Moss what was happening with him, even when Moss tried to get it out of him. However, as the week went on, Roy began to get a little more comfortable with small tokens of affection: soft quick kisses, lingering touches, small smiles shot at each other when Jen wasn’t looking.

It was eight days later when Roy leapt from his seat with a yelp, pointing at his computer. 

Moss looked up at him, and it wasn’t long until Jen’s head poked around her office door. 

“I’ve found it!” Roy exclaimed. The other two looked at him in shock. After a moment, Moss’ face split into a huge grin. He got up, coming over from his desk to stand next to Roy. They both leaned down to look at the computer screen better. Roy jabbed a finger at the screen. “Look, there, multiple large transactions to some company called High Tide Intelligence. Googled them, absolutely nothing. It’s even in the Cayman Islands, just like you said. This has to be it.” 

“Sometimes I could kiss your mind, Roy,” Moss replied. He was smiling at him, eyes glowing with happiness. Roy grinned back at him. In a wave of confidence, he leaned forward and kissed Moss right on the lips. 

“This was all your idea,” he said once he had broken away. Moss blushed a little, looking down at the desk. “If we should be kissing anyone’s mind, it’s yours.” 

“How much money is in this company, then?” Jen asked from the other side of the room. Roy looked back to the computer, refining the search parameters and scrolling through the resulting list. 

“Er-r-r-r-r-r-r-m…” he said, squinting at the screen. “I don’t know. There’s hundreds, maybe even thousands of transactions here. Probably small ones hidden within the regular expenses.” 

“Give me a minute,” Moss murmured. They both looked at him, a little baffled as they watched him scroll through the list, whispering numbers to himself under his breath. When he looked back up, his eyes were wide. “There’s millions stashed away here.” 

“Well, Douglas was earning something like ten million a year,” Jen said with a small shrug. She pushed herself off the doorframe and came into the room, crossing her arms. “The company did bring in something like two billion in revenue last year. Tax is big on that.” 

“How much did we owe?” Roy asked. He sat back down, putting his feet up on the desk as he watched Moss click through the list again. “I’m assuming that’s why the police were involved?” 

“Yeah,” Jen said, making a face. “Apparently Douglas makes so much money that if he paid tax on all of it, he’d end up with half as much.” 

“Umbrella payroll scheme,” Moss mumbled. He looked up. “He must have just put one million through for tax, then kept the other nine million for himself.” 

“So, how much does the company owe?” Roy asked. Jen bit her lip, toeing the ground with her heels. 

“Nearly thirty-three million,” she said. Roy’s face dropped at this, and he moved to sit up a little more, but Moss stopped him when he said, 

“There’s more than enough to pay that in this company.” 

“What, r-really?” Roy stammered. He did sit up this time, taking the mouse from Moss and scrolling through the accounts. Sure enough, from the quick maths he was able to do in his head, there was enough there. 

“I think Deynholm was doing this long before Douglas ever showed up,” Moss said. There was a triumphant tone to his voice. “Look, there’s other transactions here too, to a company called Pluto Industries out in Panama.” 

Roy smiled, folding his arms and sitting back in his chair. Jen did a little victory dance before going back into her office. A moment later, they heard her yell in triumph. They both chuckled, glancing at each other. Moss shook his head, heading back over to his desk and sitting back down with a small look of victory on his face. 

“Hey, Moss, I was wondering…” Roy started to say. When Moss looked up at him, a hopeful expression on his face, a strange lump formed in his throat and he had to take a moment. “Er, I was wondering if you wanted to come over to mine for dinner tonight? Nothin’ fancy, just a takeaway pizza. Thought we could talk a bit.” 

“Yeah,” Moss replied with a smile. “Yeah, that would be nice.” 

Roy tried to smile, but the nerves had hit him so hard that he was finding it difficult to. 

***

When they walked back into his apartment together, Roy felt as if he was having a pretty severe case of deja vu. 

He let Moss go and get settled in the living room whilst he headed his bedroom to hunt through his bedside cabinet for the pizza menu. He knew full well they were going to end up with the same thing they had every time (a large Meat Feast pizza, a garlic pizza bread, and a side of wedges and chicken strips) but they went through this ritual every time they ordered pizza and Roy was craving some normality right now. 

When he came back into the living room, Moss was sitting with his knees drawn up and his laptop balanced on his thighs barely three inches away from his face. Roy couldn’t see what was on the screen. 

“Moss, c’mon, you can finish that when we get to work tomorrow,” he said as he came around and sat down next to him. 

“It’s not work,” Moss said quickly. He put his legs down and moved the laptop into the space on the sofa next to him. His eyes were bright and fervent. “Look, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but you said you wanted to talk and I wanted to help you, so I did some research and I found some tests you could take to try and help you identify the problem, but as I said, we don’t--”

“Moss!” Roy interrupted, raising his voice in order to be heard over Moss’ rambling. The other immediately fell silent, his face assuming a guilty look. Roy smiled at him, reaching forward and taking his hand. “Calm down. If you think doing these test… thingies will help, then let’s give it a go.” 

“Do you not want to talk first?” Moss asked a little nervously. Roy shook his head. 

“We can talk later. Let’s do these tests first, yeah?” 

Moss grinned at him, grabbing his laptop and placing it on his lap. He clicked through a few things and then turned to Roy. He slipped his glasses further down his nose, and fixed Roy with what was supposed to be a professional look. Roy snorted, putting his hand to his mouth. They smiled at each other. 

“Alright,” Moss said, clapping his hands together. “So answer each statement with a number from one to five: one means strongly disagree, and five means strongly agree.” 

“Okay.” 

“If you want to stop at any time, you just have to say.” 

“I know, I know.” 

“Oh, just before we start…” Moss leant forward, resting his hand on Roy’s thigh. Roy could tell he was trying really hard to be comforting. It was quite sweet, really. “How do you identify?” 

“What?” Roy said. He made a face. 

“Well, are you gay? Bisexual? Something else?” 

“Um, bisexual. I think.” 

“Okay, good,” Moss said with an encouraging smile. “Are you ready?” 

Roy sighed a little. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be, s’pose.” 

“Right. First statement. I deny my sexual orientation to myself and others.” 

“Four.”

“Okay. I have attempted or want to attempt to change my sexual orientation.” 

Roy made a face, looking down at his lap and biting his lip. 

“Um, three.” 

“I feel like I am never good enough.” 

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see how Moss was going to look at him, all pitying and sympathetic. 

“Five,” he whispered. He heard Moss make a small noise. 

“I engage in obsessive thinking and-slash-or compulsive behaviours.” 

Yep, Moss’ voice was shaking. He knew it. Part of him was screaming at him to stop whilst he was ahead, but he was so desperate to just sort this out. This question, though… he wasn’t really sure about it. 

“Three,” he eventually said. 

“I over-or-under-achieve as a bid for acceptance.” 

“What?” 

Moss shrugged a little. 

“I think it means at being straight.” 

“Oh. Then four.” 

“Okay. I have low self-esteem and a negative body image.” 

“Five.” 

Moss paused for a moment. This caused Roy to open his eyes for a moment. When he saw that his best friend was staring down at his laptop keyboard, trying to hold back tears. No, that was too much for him. He shut his eyes tightly shut again. 

“I have contempt for the more open or obvious members of the LGBTQ+ community,” Moss eventually said. His voice was strained. 

“Two.” 

“I have contempt for those at earlier stages of the coming out process.” 

“One. I actually kind of admire them.” 

Moss smiled at him. 

“Okay. I refuse to admit that homophobia, heterosexism, biphobia or sexism are serious social problems.” 

“Oh, one. I’m not stupid.” 

“I know. I engage in in homophobic behaviours out of contempt.” 

“One. I would never.” 

“I know you wouldn’t, don’t worry,” Moss said, shooting Roy an encouraging smile. “Question eleven: I project my contempt or prejudice onto another group.” 

“One. Oh, erm, actually two. I don’t consciously, anyway.” 

“I have become psychologically abused or abusive, and am more likely to stay in an abusive relationship.” 

There it was again, that little wobble in Moss’ voice. Roy did his best to ignore it as he tried to think about this question. To be honest, he’d never really thought about being in an abusive relationship. He wasn’t abusive himself, he was sure of that. But as a cisgender male who had tried to bury his attraction to other men, he had never even considered the possibility of being in an abusive relationship. 

“Um, three?” he said, sounding very unsure of himself. “I’ve never really thought about it before.” 

“No, me neither,” Moss replied. He cleared his throat. “I have tried to or try to pass myself off as straight.” 

“Five. Especially when I was younger.” 

“I have increased feelings of fear, and tend to withdraw from friends and family.” 

“Er-r-r-r-r, four.” 

“I suffer from feelings of shame, depression, defensiveness, anger and bitterness.” 

“Can I go into decimals?” Roy asked. Moss shook his head, making a face as he pushed his glasses further up his nose. 

“No, sorry.” 

“Right. Well, erm, five then.”

“Roy, you know you can always talk to me?” Moss said all of a sudden. He had a strange sort of look on his face, a look the Irishman couldn’t identify. He cast Moss a look, nodding. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said. However, his voice was about three octaves too high. 

“It’s just, some of these answers…” Moss trailed off, sighing a little and shaking his head. His eyes were glued to his computer screen. “I just want you to know that you can trust me.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Roy said quickly. “What’s the next question?” 

Moss took a deep breath, scrolling down on his laptop. 

“I tend to be absent from work and have low productivity when I am there.” 

“Three.”

Moss fixed Roy with a look at this, but declined to say anything. 

“I continually monitor my behaviours, mannerisms, beliefs and ideas for fear of ‘appearing gay’ .” 

“Four,” Roy said. He sounded rather sure about this one. “It just sorta… happens. I don’t know.” 

“I clown about in order to act out negative stereotypes.” 

“Three.” 

“I mistrust and often have destructive criticism of LGBTQ+ leaders.” 

“One.”

“I am reluctant to be around children for fear of being seen as a paedophile.” 

Both of them made a face at this, glancing at each other. 

“Jesus Christ, one!” Roy exclaimed. He shook his head. “Bloody hell.” 

“I know, it’s silly,” Moss replied. “Okay, next question: I have conflicts with the laws.” 

“Moss, you know me. One.” 

“I engage in unsafe sex practices.” 

“Do ya?” Roy said teasingly, raising his eyebrows in mock-shock. Moss gave him a deadly look, he let out a genuine laugh. After that, Moss gave him a weak smile. “One.” 

“I separate sex and love, and have a fear of intimacy.” 

Shit. 

That one had hit far too close to home for Roy. He winced a little, making a face as he dropped his gaze back down to the sofa cushions. “Roy?” he heard Moss say, his voice filled with concern. “Do you want to stop?” 

“No,” Roy replied after a moment, although his voice was choked. “No let’s keep going. Five.” 

“Okay,” Moss said, pressing a button on his computer. “I abuse substances such as drugs and alcohol.” 

“Two,” Roy said with a hint of a cheeky smile on his face. “Maybe go a bit heavy on the beers some weeks.” 

“Last one now,” Moss said. When he looked down at the computer screen, the small smile that had been on his face disappeared immediately. He stopped for a moment, taking a few shaky breaths. Then he looked up, staring at Roy straight in the eyes. “And you have to be completely honest, okay?” 

“O… kay?” Roy said, more than a little confused. Moss took another deep breath, running his hand along his thigh. 

“I have thought about or attempted suicide.” 

Yep. That. Roy felt his heart drop to his feet at that. He couldn’t bear to look Moss in the eye as he began to fiddle with one of the buttons on his jacket. 

“Yeah, um, four,” he mumbled. When he noticed Moss start to move forward towards him, he looked up. He could feel panic rising in his throat. “But not properly! Anyway, it was ages ago, I was like sixteen, it was probably nothing, actually change my answer to--” 

He was cut off when Moss pulled him into a tight hug. 

At first he sort of sat there with his arms awkwardly pinned to his sides, but as it became clear that this was a Long Hug he almost shyly raised his arms and wrapped them around Moss. He could feel Moss’ hair tickling his cheek, and his chin resting on the top of his shoulder blade. It was strange, he couldn’t help but think, how perfectly their bodies seemed to fit together when they hugged, or even when they kissed. 

“I love you,” Moss whispered fiercely. “And I never want you to have to feel like that ever again.” 

“That’s sweet of you,” Roy murmured back. He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to say in response, you see. It was strange, all of this feelings malarkey. “It’s been a long time, I promise.” 

When Moss let him go, Roy noticed that he didn’t look too convinced. 

“Just one more quick test and then we’re done,” Moss said as he went back to his laptop. Roy groaned, shaking his head. He felt strangely drained, like someone had taken his brain out and shook it around, scrambling everything together. 

“Can we do it tomorrow?” he asked. Moss looked up at him, confused. “I’m exhausted and really just want to get food and fall asleep to a terrible movie.” 

So that’s what they did. They put on Mean Girls, ordered food, and did they fall asleep in front of the telly, holding each other in their arms? 

Well, who’s to say?

Chapter Text

In the end, it was almost three weeks until they ended up talking over the issue again. 

By this point, it had been a month since that kiss in the bathroom. The three of them had worked through the entangled web of transactions and secret companies to acquire the funds that had been stored in the secret Reynholm family shell companies. There had been many long nights spent in the office, trying to hack through the secret firewalls that they didn’t even realise were there, but eventually they had managed to get through and transfer the money into the company’s main account. Jen had spent a good few hours on the phone to HMRC and had managed to sort everything out. The money was paid, and finally the company was out of danger. 

And there were still millions left over. 

At first, the three of them were at a bit of a loss for what to do with the money. They thought about refurbishing the basement, but in the end Moss had been so against them changing anything down there that they decided against it. No, they topped up the employee pension account to balance out what Douglas used to take out of it when he couldn’t be bothered to use his own money first. Then they organised to have the lift down to the basement fixed: Roy had been ecstatic when Jen had made that phone call. It had been Moss’ birthday a few days ago and they’d had a small celebration just the three of them during lunch. 

Again, Moss and Roy’s relationship had progressed a little more, and there had been a few heated make-out sessions late at night when Moss had stayed over at Roy’s flat. Yet every time Roy opened his mouth and went to tell Moss about what had happened, what had made him try and suppress his attraction to men for all these years, he found himself talking about something else, or doing something stupid to divert the conversation. 

Jen had told them to keep their relationships under wraps for now. 

“It’s not that I think it’s bad or anything,” she said one lunchtime through a mouthful of donut (someone from accounting had bought them a big box of them to say thank you for sorting out the pensions). The boys both gave her a look from where they were sitting on the sofa together. “It’s just that Floors Twenty-Five through Thirty already know, and we’re going to be under a lot of scrutiny from the press soon. I don’t want something happening to either of you because some idiot decides to take offense.” 

To be fair, they could both see where she was coming from, and so agreed to keep things quiet. Not that it was particularly difficult: outside of the office and his flat, Roy seemed to revert back to acting hyper-heterosexual no matter who was around. 

It was a Friday night, they had just got their first paychecks at CEO level (a substantial amount more than what they had been earning: all of their eyes had got quite wide when they’d seen it even though they were earning much less per annum than Douglas had been)  and they were going out in celebration. 

At first Moss had been a little skeptical about going out, as he claimed that he was supposed to be having dinner with his mother that night. However, after some badgering from Jen (and some sweet-talking from Roy) he reluctantly agreed to come out with them on the condition that they weren’t going to force him to drink anything alcoholic. Satisfied, the other two had agreed, and they had gone straight from work to the pub round the corner the moment the clock hit five.

“A toast!” Jen proclaimed as they sat in a booth. The boys raised their drinks obligingly. “To us and our hard work over the past month to sort the expenses!” 

“You didn’t do any--” Moss started to say, but Roy cut him off. 

“Just let her have this,” he murmured as he took a gulp of beer. Moss gave him an annoyed look, but pursed his lips and let the statement go. 

Inevitably, Jen and Roy proceeded to get absolutely smashed. Moss had convinced them to eat something at around seven or so, knowing that they would both have even worse hangovers if they didn’t, but they were still way more than “a little tipsy” (which is what they kept claiming with badly slurring voices). Of course, this left Moss, who was barely a functioning human being himself, to look after them both. He made the mature decision to cut them off at eleven, and bustled them all into a taxi. He made sure Jen got home safe (and was in bed on her side with a bucket by the bed, and a glass of water and an aspirin on the bedside table) before he went back to the cab and took Roy home. 

Roy giggled as he fell through his front door. He could hear Moss sighing behind him, but he didn’t care. Once Moss had shut the door, he turned and stumbled forward a little, reaching forward and pulling his best friend into a drunken bear hug. Moss chuckled against his shoulder, patting him on the back. 

“I think you need to go to bed,” Moss said quietly.

“Come to bed with me,” Roy said, his voice slurred and his words barely understandable. Moss laughed again, shaking his head. 

“I meant you need to sleep ,” he said. He wormed his way out of Roy’s grip, leading him by the hand to the bedroom. He forced him to sit down on the edge of the bed before leaving the room for a moment. When he returned, Roy was sloppily lounging across the bed, clearly trying to look “sexy”. It took all Moss had not to burst out laughing as he leant against the doorframe. “You alright there?” 

“I love you-u-u,” Roy proclaimed. Moss smiled at him. 

“I know. You don’t say it often, but I know.” 

“I wanna have sex with you.” 

“Very… um, forward,” Moss said with a nervous laugh. He put his hands in his pockets, fixing Roy with a look. “But how are we supposed to have sex when you struggle with anything more than kisses?” 

“I’ve done stuff! Sexual stuff!” Roy shouted a little indignantly. He tried to get up from the bed, but stumbled and fell straight back down. 

“I know. You used to tell me about it. In disturbing detail.” 

“I’ve done sex stuff with a dude before!” 

That caught Moss up short. He took his hands out of his pockets, pushing himself off the doorframe and coming over to sit down next to Roy. 

“You have?” he asked, his voice soft. Roy nodded. He looked almost proud of himself. “When?” 

“Well…” 

Boyle, Ireland, Spring 1995

Roy had never been to a party like this before. 

He’d attended parties before, of course. He may be a little geeky, but he did have a few friends, and anyway he had dated that girl Sarah for a month or two, and that had gotten him a pass into all the best parties. This party, however, was being hosted by the richest kid in the town as his parents were out of town visiting family for Easter. Word had gone round at school before the holidays had started, and there had been rumblings about it throughout the town during the week leading up to it. At first, Roy’s parents had been dead set against him going (he was their youngest, after all), but eventually his relentless badgering had worn them down and they had allowed him to go, on the condition that he was home by two a.m and didn’t throw up on anything. 

So here he was, clutching a half-empty beer bottle (only his third of the night) and feeling awkward as he stood in the corner. Everybody else was drinking like it was the end of the world. Couples were hooking up left, right and center. Roy felt rather out of place. He’d only come that night in the hopes of finding someone to get a good snog (and maybe a little more if things went well) out of, but the possibility of that was looking slimmer and slimmer.

He had been thinking of leaving, getting some chips and sitting down in the glen until two when He appeared. 

The boy was tall, taller than him. He was a good six foot two (and looking to gain an extra couple of inches in the next couple of years), but this lad must have been six foot four at a minimum. He had shiny brown hair that fell into his emerald eyes in waves, sharp cheekbones and a smile that could have lit up the bottom of the ocean. Roy was immediately starstruck. 

“Hi,” he murmured. He took a shaky sip of his beer. 

“Hey,” the boy said. He definitely wasn’t local. “I’m Jack.”

“I’m Roy. Where are you from?” Roy asked before he could stop himself. “You don’t sound like you’re from around here.” 

The boy laughed. It was a sweet laugh, high and twinkling. 

“You have a good ear,” he said. Roy blushed, looking down at his feet. “No, I’m from Cork. We’re here visiting family. Going home tomorrow.” 

Roy made an appropriate noise, taking another gulp of his beer. He was flustered, in a bit of a panic now. What was he supposed to do? 

“Are you?” he said, feeling more than a little useless. 

“I must say, you are very pretty,” the boy said. He reached forward, resting his hand on Roy’s upper arm. Roy looked up at him, his heart hammering in his chest. 

“So are you,” he squeaked out. The boy smiled at him. 

“Can I whisk you away?” 

Roy nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak at that moment. He let the other boy lead him out of the crowded living room, up two flights of stairs, down a corridor and into a secluded bedroom. It was tiny, like a box room. Roy stood in the middle of the floor, a little unsure of what to do as the other looked up and down the corridor before shutting the door. 

Before he knew what was happening, Jack was whirling him round, pinning him to the door and kissing him roughly. 

For a moment, Roy completely froze. What was happening? Here was this guy, who he’d known for all of two minutes, kissing him! This only lasted a moment, though. He soon melted into the kiss, reaching up and resting one hand on the back of Jack’s head and the other on his waist. They were pressed together, kissing and kissing and kissing, until Jack tugged Roy away from the door and over to the bed. James pushed him down onto it, climbing onto his lap, his thighs straddling his hips. His hands tugged at Roy’s t-shirt. He broke away for a moment, only to pull the shirt off and throw it over onto the floor, before going right back to kissing him. 

Roy was in heaven. Here was this beautiful, handsome, attractive boy, who didn’t live anywhere near him, who he could have a little fun with! Maybe it was a good thing after all that he hadn’t found a girl to do stuff with. 

He took his hands from Jack’s hips, reaching up and tugging the buttons on the other’s thin shirt open. Jack hurriedly pulled it off, chucking it across the room. He broke away, his lips lowering to press strong, commanding kisses down Roy’s neck and chest, all the way down until he reached the waistband of Roy’s jeans. He looked up at him, eyes questioning. 

“Do you have a condom?” he asked. Roy nodded hurriedly, not quite trusting himself to speak at that moment. He hurried to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, opening it and showing the packet to Jack, who smiled at him. “Well, we won’t be needing that just yet.” 

What happened next was… bliss. Just bliss. I’m sure you can all surmise what happened next. Without going into too many… explicit details, Roy thought about what happened in the first part of that night for many, many months afterwards. And he had no doubt that they would have gone much further, all the way even, had the second part of that night never happened. 

Maybe if he’d been paying more attention, he would have been able to stop it. The problem was, he’d been so lost in the moment and trying not to make too much noise that he never heard the floorboards creaking and the door opening. 

“Oi, is-- fucking hell!” 

Roy’s eyes flew open from where they had been closed. Jack froze in what he was doing. Slowly, they both looked over to the door. Standing there was a lad from Roy’s school, just some random lad in his year, but he had seen. That was all there was to it. Roy’s first instinct was to try and desperately deny it, but well… having someone catch you with your cock in some other lad’s mouth was pretty damn incriminating. 

Slowly, Jack moved himself off of Roy. He stared at the floor as he retrieved his shirt and put it back on. He murmured something inaudible before pushing past the lad and running out of the door. They heard footsteps on the stairs and then not long after the front door slam. Roy hurried to pull his underwear on. 

“It’s not what it looks like!” was all he could think to say. 

“Really?” the lad said, arching an eyebrow. “Because it looked like you were getting a blowie off the Cork lad.” 

Ah. Right. Maybe it was exactly what it looked like, then. 

“You can’t tell anyone!” Roy said quickly. At this point he was hopping around the room, trying desperately to get his jeans back on. The lad snorted, giving him a look as he folded his arms. “Seriously! You can’t tell a soul.” 

“Dream on,” the lad said. Roy stopped in doing up the button on his jeans, staring at the kid. The boy came forward until he was standing right in front of Roy, staring up at him. “Hope you’re ready for school next week, nancy boy.” 

By the time school started the following Monday, everybody knew. 

As he walked down the corridor, eyes glued to the floor, all manner of things were shouted and screamed at him. When he left his bag for ten seconds in class, he came back to having “cocksucker” and a crudely-drawn penis scrawled on it in permanent marker. Everybody looked at him with contempt in their eyes. Even his friends refused to associate with him. 

His life there, he knew, was ruined. 

“So I made the decision to come to college over here,” Roy finished. His words were still slurred, but a little less so now. “Barely been back since. Can’t face ‘em.” 

“Roy, it’s been over twenty years,” Moss murmured. He reached forward and rested his hand on Roy’s shoulder. “Don’t you think they might have forgotten by now.” 

“No-one’s forgotten!” Roy exclaimed. All of a sudden his voice was strained and teary, and Moss felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach. “They all think I’m a freak! And they’re all right. I am, I am!” 

“You are not a freak,” Moss said firmly, after taking a moment to process what the Irishman had just said. Roy shook his head. His head was bent low and he had his hands covering his eyes, as he was starting to cry a little bit. “No, listen to me.” Moss leant forward, tilting Roy’s head up so they were face to face. “You are not a freak. Because if you say that, that means you think I’m a freak too. Do you think I’m a freak?” 

“God, no!” Roy said. He raised his hand and rested it on Moss’ cheek, giving him a sloppy smile. “You’re gorgeous and perfect and if anyone calls you a freak I’ll smash their face in.” 

Moss giggled a little, glancing down for a moment before looking back up at Roy with love and adoration in his eyes. 

“Right,” he said, his voice quiet. “Repeat after me: I am not a freak.” 

“I am not a freak,” Roy repeated. 

“I am worthy of love and respect, just like everyone else.” 

“I am worthy of love and respect, just like everyone else.” 

Moss smiled at him. 

“I love you,” he said. “Thank you for telling me about this. I know that must have been difficult.” 

When he looked back up, he saw that Roy had fallen fast asleep. He laughed quietly, shaking his head. They could talk in the morning, he supposed. 

***

When Roy woke up the next morning, it was because of the bright sunlight filtering through the gap in the curtains and hitting him right in the eyes. 

He groaned heavily, rolling over onto his side and screwing his eyes tightly shut. God, his head was absolutely killing him. He barely remembered getting home last night. Luckily he didn’t feel too sick, thanks to Moss forcing him to eat those chips at the pub. Still, thank God it was a Saturday and he didn’t have to go into work. 

“Morning,” Moss’ quiet voice said. Great. Looked like he was awake now. 

He opened his eyes slowly, squinting in the sunlight. He ran his hand down his face, forcing himself to sit up. 

“When did we get home last night?” he asked with a groan. Moss furrowed his brow, coming forward from the doorway and passing Roy a glass of water and an aspirin. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t you remember?” Moss asked. Roy made a face. 

“Kind of?” he said, sounding confused. 

“Do you remember the conversation we had?” 

Roy closed his eyes as he searched his fuzzy memory. Okay remembered playing darts (badly), playing pool (badly), Moss trying to call a cab…

He’d told him. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, staring down into his glass of water. “Yeah, I remember.” 

They were both quiet for a moment, staring at the floor. “You don’t, um, mind… do you?” Roy asked quietly. 

“Roy, of course I don’t,” Moss replied. Roy nodded. He took a deep breath. 

It was time to take the plunge. 

“Moss, I’m bisexual,” he said. Moss smiled encouragingly at him. “And I was wondering if you wanted to be… my boyfriend?” 

Moss smiled wider than Roy had ever seen him smile before. He leapt forward and pulled Roy into a tight hug. 

“Of course I will be your boyfriend,” he whispered. 

Roy smiled, and for once he didn’t feel guilty about how he was feeling.

Chapter Text

Another month soon came and went, and things in general had been coming on in leaps and bounds. The ever-curious Jen had finally found out what Reynholm Industries primarily manufactured (although she refused to tell the boys) and she had decided that it was utter rubbish. Instead, she had got Moss to work to work with the science team to safely manufacture the Abracad-bra, sans overheating problems of course. They had put in for a patent just a week ago, and it was all looking very promising. 

Not only that, but Moss and Roy’s relationship had been going from strength to strength. Granted, sometimes Roy still struggled with his internalised feelings, but with Moss’ help he was beginning to acknowledge and work through them. Moss was now staying at Roy’s at least three nights a week, if not more. Roy had gently suggested once or twice that he perhaps move in with him, but Moss got so anxious whenever the subject of moving out of his childhood home was brought up that Roy decided to stop mentioning it until Moss decided himself that he was ready. Still they were staying as closeted as they could at work (everybody who already knew had had to sign an NDA, but had been given a decent bonus to stave off any complaints), but other than that they were fairly open. 

“I think you should meet my mother,” Moss said suddenly one night over dinner. They were having Chinese takeaway, as neither of them could be bothered to cook. Roy looked over at him, confused. 

“I’ve already met your mother,” he said through a mouthful of noodles. He paused for a moment to swallow. “Multiple times.” 

“I know that ,” Moss said. He gave Roy a look as he reached over and paused the telly. “I meant as my partner. She hasn’t seen you for ages anyway, definitely not since we became a couple. She’s been badgering me about it for a fortnight.” 

“‘S fine with me,” Roy said. He clicked the telly back on. “What was she thinking, dinner or something?” 

“Yeah, she mentioned Sunday dinner?” Moss said. He moved over to be closer to Roy, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “She’s making lamb.” 

“Oh, we are definitely going. You know I’d kill for your mother’s lamb.” 

“I’ll text her later,” Moss said with a smile. He leaned up and kissed Roy softly before settling snuggled up next to him, eyes turning to the telly. They were both quiet for a little while longer, before Moss made a small oh! noise. Roy turned to look at him. “Suit fitting, for Morgan’s wedding. It’s tomorrow. Will you come with me?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Roy said. Something about being around Moss and Morgan together made him vaguely uneasy, even though he knew that nothing would ever happen between them. Even though they hadn’t spoken for over fifteen years, now it was like they’d never fallen out of contact at all. It was… weird. Every time they met (which was every Saturday for coffee), Morgan’s fiance Leanne was always there too. Last week, they brought their little girl with them. She was a sweet kid, five or six or so and infernally curious about everything. She had clocked Roy’s accent immediately and had proceeded to ask him ten million questions over the course of an hour and a half whilst her mothers and Moss talked wedding things. “Where is it?” 

“She told me to meet them outside Harrods at ten tomorrow morning,” Moss replied. Roy groaned, throwing his head back against the sofa. Moss giggled. 

“That’s so early !” 

“I’ll buy you one of those fancy coffees you refuse to buy yourself because you say they’re too expensive.” 

“I’m not paying seven quid for coffee, even if it does taste like liquid gold!” 

Moss dissolved into giggles, burying his face in Roy’s side and putting his arms around him. Roy shook his head. He moved his plate to the side and put an arm around his boyfriend. “Fine, ten o’clock, Harrods. Is she buying?” 

Moss took a moment to gather himself before answering. 

“The suit, you mean?” 

“Yeah.” 

“She said she would last week.” He paused, looking up at Roy. “You were there .” 

“Isabella was grilling me about Ireland, I wasn’t really listening.” 

Moss made a small understanding noise, and they both turned back to the telly. 

***

Predictably, by the time they got to Harrods the next morning Roy was still half-asleep. Moss, who woke up at half past seven every morning regardless of the day, month or situation, was fine and raring to go. Roy, however, looked as if he had been dragged out of bed-- which, to be fair, he had been. 

“You better get that proper fancy coffee,” he grumbled as they walked into Harrods. He was already grumpy from being woken up, but he hated fancy places like this. Moss had had to talk him out of putting his best suit on, insisting that a pair of jeans and a none-stained t-shirt should be fine. “The one with the syrup and the whipped cream and a flake.” 

“Yes, dear,” Moss said a little distractedly. He was looking around the atrium, trying to peer over people’s heads. After a moment, he spotted Morgan waving to him and grabbed Roy’s hand, dragging him over to where the others were standing. 

“Hi, Moss!” Morgan squealed, reaching forward and pulling him into a hug. Moss hugged her back, and it took everything Roy had not to shoot her a deadly glare. Morgan let Moss go, grinning as she slipped her arm into Leanne’s. The two were dressed entirely opposite: Morgan was all sophisticated business woman in a pencil skirt and a patterned blouse whereas Leanne was your classic butch lesbian, all checked shirts and jeans with a bow tie and clunky boots. Leanne grinned at Roy, offering him her hand. Roy took it, smiling at her. 

“Hi, Roy!” Isabella chirped. Roy jumped, looking down. Isabella had been hiding behind her mothers’ legs and had just emerged, smiling up at him. She was wearing adorably mis-matched clothes, a dark shirt with a rocket on it along with a flowery skirt over stripy leggings and mini glittery Doc Marten boots. 

“She insisted on dressing herself today,” Morgan said with a smile, gently fussing Isabella’s hair. Isabella smiled up at her mother. 

“Mummy, is Roy coming to Hamleys with Mama and I, or is he going with you and Moss?” she asked. 

“He’s coming with us, sugarlump,” Morgan said. She knelt down so she was at eye level with her daughter. They both leaned forward and rubbed their noses together. “Now, are you going to look after Mama for me?” 

“Of course!” Isabella chirped. Both women laughed, Morgan and Leanne exchanged a quick kiss and then the other two disappeared. 

“I’m so glad you two are here,” Morgan said as the three of them started to make their way towards the suit shops. “And that you’re a part of my wedding. It really means so much to me that you’ll both be there.” 

“Hey, two months ago, you didn’t know who I was,” Roy joked. Morgan gave him a warm smile. 

“You’re important to Moss, so you’re important to me,” she said as they made their way into a suit shop. Straight away there were concierges there ready to help them. The shop was fully exposed brick and expensive-looking hardwoods, with low-hanging metal bowl lights. Roy picked up the price tag of the first random suit he saw, but immediately dropped it when he saw the price. 

“Jesus!” he exclaimed, pointing to the tag with wide eyes. Morgan and Moss turned to him. 

“What?” Moss asked. Roy shook his head, pointing again at the tag. Moss came forward and when he saw it, he raised his eyebrows, looking back over to Morgan. “Morgan, this is way too expensive.” 

“Oh, hush,” Morgan said. When they both gave her a confused look, she laughed, beckoning them forward. “My wedding, my rules.” 

“Hello, madame,” a concierge suddenly said, cutting off their conversation. He held his hand out to Morgan, who took it gracefully. “I could not help but overhear that you are looking for wedding suits?” 

“Yes, we are,” Morgan said, a smile on her face. 

“Can I be the first to say congratulations?” the concierge said. “Now, which one of these fine gentlemen is the groom?” 

“Oh, neither of them,” Morgan said a little dismissively. Both of them gave a bit of a look, and she laughed again. “No, my soon-to-be wife has gone to Hamleys with our daughter. These are my best man and his partner.” 

“Okay then,” the concierge said. In fairness to the bloke, Roy later thought, he didn’t falter at all. “Do you have an idea of the sort of suits you’re looking for?” 

“Yes, thank you,” Morgan replied. She flashed the concierge a warm smile, which he returned. 

“Let me know when you’ve found something you like, and I’ll set you up with a dressing room.”

With that, he disappeared into the background. 

Moss and Roy ended up standing in a corner after giving Morgan their sizes, watching her sweep around the store and pick out multiple designs. In this store, each design had small cards that corresponded to a size and suit, which you handed to the concierge and got brought out to you. By the time Morgan finished, they were each holding at least ten cards. Morgan beckoned them over to a changing room, got them to hand their cards to a waiting man and then the trying on began. 

She got them to try on each suit individually rather than both at the same time, so they could see all the styles on both of them. She sent Moss in first, leaving her and Roy sitting awkwardly together. 

“Look, I know you don’t like me,” Morgan said after a few minutes of stifling silence, where neither of them quite knew where to look. At this Roy looked up at her, stunned. 

“I do like you,” he said. She laughed a little. 

“Then tell it to your face!” she joked. When he looked down at the ground, cheeks burning, her voice softened. “You just seemed like you’re threatened by me, like you thinking I’m going to whisk Moss away from you.” 

“How did you know?” he murmured. 

“You and Moss are exactly the same: every emotion you have flits across your face,” she said. Leaning forward, she took her cup of complimentary tea from the table and sipped it. “Trust me, Moss is about as gay as it gets. And anyway, he loves you to bits. You should hear the way he talks about you. Don’t panic, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

Roy looked up at her, and was about to open his mouth to say something when Moss stepped out and he entirely forgot what he had been about to say. 

Moss was standing a little awkwardly, as always, but that didn’t take away from how utterly stunning he looked. The suit was a dark grey colour, with a matching waistcoat and a plain white shirt. The tie was a gorgeous silky saffron yellow, with a pocket square to match. 

“Oh Moss, it’s gorgeous!” Morgan squealed, clapping her hands together and smiling widely at him. Moss smiled shyly at her before shifting his eyes over to his boyfriend. 

“Roy, what do you think?” he asked. When Roy didn’t answer, instead just continuing to stare at him, he furrowed his brow. “Roy?” 

Morgan reached over and gave Roy a little shake, snapping him back to reality. He jumped a little, blinking and looking around the room. When he looked back at Moss, his face broke into a wide smile. 

“You look beautiful,” he said. Moss blushed, biting his lip. “So handsome. It’s lovely, it really is.” 

Over the next two hours, Moss did try on the other suits, but they all paled in comparison to the first one. Roy ended up with a navy blue number, also with the saffron tie and pocket square, that Moss proclaimed he wished he would wear every day. Morgan refused to let them put any money towards it (no matter how much they badgered her) and they left the shop with two happily filled bags. After this, they met back up with Leanne and Isabella (who was sporting a new monster truck toy) and the five of them headed to the Nando’s down the road for lunch. 

Pretty much as soon as they had sat down, ordered and gotten drinks, Morgan and Moss began to talk about the wedding, leaving Roy and Leanne to talk whilst Isabella coloured on the kids’ menu. 

“You’d have thought they were getting married, the way they talk!” Leanne joked as she took a sip of her drink. Roy nodded, but he couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy about it. 

“What’s it like, being an out and proud gay couple?” he blurted before he could stop himself. The question had been swirling around in his head for a while now. Leanne shrugged a little. 

“You get a few stares, a few nasty looks,” she said. 

“And Isabella?” 

“Yeah, some people get really riled up over her. We all do our best to pretend they don’t exist, but with Morgan being what she is… it’s just inevitable, really.” When she noticed the terrified look on Roy’s face, she laughed a little. “But most people are really nice about it.” 

Roy nodded, but he didn’t seem too sure. 

***

The next day, the two of them headed off to Moss’ mum’s for Sunday dinner. 

Strangely enough, it was actually Moss who was more nervous about the meal than Roy. You see, Roy had met Mrs Moss a handful of times, and each time he met her only enforced his view of her as a thoroughly lovely woman. He was hardly surprised that Moss had grown up to be as nice as he was with a mother like that. 

The entire drive there Roy could tell that Moss was fretting. Technically they could have walked, but Roy had been feeling lazy and so they had taken the car. Now, he was starting to regret that decision: maybe Moss could have got some of his nervous energy out if they’d walked. 

“Stop picking at your thumb, you’re going to make it bleed,” Roy said for the third time in the last ten minutes. Guiltily, Moss dropped his hand onto his lap, instead settling for biting his lip. “Look, it’s all going to be fine.” 

“What if she doesn’t like you?” Moss replied quickly. 

“She’s met me before.” 

“What if something goes wrong?” 

“Nothing is going to go wrong.” 

“What if she gets out all the embarrassing baby photos?” 

“She’s your mum, that’s what mums do,” Roy said. “And if she does, I won’t take any photos and if we ever go see my parents, you can look at mine.” 

Moss cast his boyfriend an uneasy look, but nodded and looked back out of the window as they pulled into Moss’ mum’s street. Roy parked up just outside the house, shut the engine off and was about to get out when Moss clamped his hand onto his arm with a vice-like grip. 

“It’s going to be fine, isn’t it?” he whispered. He sounded panic-stricken, words quiet and rushed as if he was forcing them out as quickly as he could. Roy reached forward, taking both of Moss’ hands in his and forcing him to take a moment. 

“Take a deep breath,” the Irishman said. Moss did so obligingly. “Stop worryin’ so much. It’s going to be fine and you know it. It’s just the irrational bit of your brain trying to freak you out.” 

Moss nodded as he took another deep breath. Roy left it a little longer before letting his boyfriend’s hands go and getting out of the car. 

Every time he went to Moss’, Roy was still freaked out about how they would just… walk in. Without knocking. In Roy’s house growing up, if a door was closed then you knocked on it and waited for the person on the other side to open it and let you in. As he had learned the first time he had gone round to Moss’ on his own, you could knock on the front door of their house and get ignored for days . 

“Hi, mum!” Moss called as they came into the house. Roy shut the door behind him, still shaking his head incredulously. They slipped their shoes off and left them by the door before going further into the house. 

“Hiya love!” his mum shouted back from the kitchen. A moment later, her head appeared round the corner, smiling warmly at them. Moss went forward, kissing her on the cheek. “Hello, Roy.” 

“Hi, Mrs Moss,” Roy said, raising his hand to her. She laughed a little, shaking her head. 

“Call me Gillian,” she said. “We’re practically family now.” 

“Mum…” Moss said, a strange tone of almost warning in his voice. Gillian laughed again, rolling her eyes at her son. 

“Yes, yes, alright,” she said. Moss huffed, folding his arms across his chest. He flounced-- yes, actually flounced -- over to the sofa and threw himself down on it, clicking the telly on. Gillian shook her head fondly at him, turning to Roy. “Honestly, it’s like he’s twelve again when he’s here now. He might as well move in with you!” 

“Yes, because you want to get rid of me so badly,” Moss’s sarcastic voice came from the sofa. Gillian tutted slightly. 

“Silly boy,” she said. “Roy, be a dear and help me with something in the kitchen?”

Roy nodded, too scared to say no even though he really just wanted to sit and watch telly with his boyfriend. As soon as he got into the kitchen, Gillian closed the door behind him. Roy gulped nervously. He was fully convinced he was about to get the chewing out of a lifetime, when Gillian surged forward and pulled him into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, thank you so much,” she said. Roy made a confused face, patting her on the back. 

“You’re… er, welcome?” he replied. She let him go, taking him by the shoulders and looking him up and down fondly. 

“Oh, I never thought he was going to find anyone,” she said. “And you make him so happy.” 

“Are you not worried I’m taking him away from you?” Roy asked nervously. She actually burst out laughing at that, shaking her head. 

“Please, I’ve been trying to get him to move out for nearly sixteen years!” she said. When she saw Roy’s supremely baffled expression, she began to laugh even harder. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the boy to death, but he needs to have his own life, and I need mine!” 

“I know you’re talking about me!” Moss’ voice drifted in from the living room. 

“Mind your own business!” she shouted back. Sure enough, they didn’t hear another peep out of him the whole time they were in the kitchen. 

Gillian and Roy talked a little more whilst they sorted out the dinner, and Roy found himself growing even fonder of the older woman. If one thing was for sure, Roy could see where Moss got his sassiness from. He never would have guessed that she was over sixty if he had never met her before. 

“Have you stopped sulking now?” Gillian asked her son as the three of them sat down at the dining room table to eat something. Moss grumbled something under his breath, leaning forward to grab the salt and pepper. Gillian shook her head, turning to Roy. “He’s exactly like his father, honestly.” 

“What was Moss’ father like?” Roy asked. “Moss doesn’t really talk about him much.” 

“I talk about him plenty,” Moss said, giving Roy a strange look. Roy shrugged a little, looking back at Gillian. She had a fond, nostalgic smile on her face. 

“He was the most adventurous person you’d ever meet,” she said. “I remember him telling about this time when he and his friends took a car from one of the richest friend’s parents and drove up to the rainforests from Lagos, just because they wanted to see what it was like! They were fifteen at the time. Could have gotten themselves killed.” 

“That’s incredible,” Roy said, his eyes full of awe. “The most adventurous thing my dad did was try to steal a sheep when he was drunk.” 

“Oh no, Jerry was always trying to rope me into doing crazy things,” Gillian said with a laugh, taking a mouthful of food. “He took me back to Lagos with him, once. Incredible place. Nigeria is such a beautiful place.” 

“Did you ever take Moss?” Roy asked. 

“Once, when he was a small baby.” 

“You never told me that,” Moss cut in, looking up from his food. His mother gave him a look. 

“Yes I did, when you were nine and you were asking me about Dad’s home country for a project you were doing?” 

Moss made a small noise of acknowledgement before going back to his dinner. 

“No, he settled down when Moss was born,” she continued. “We both did.” 

“Did you miss it?” the Irishman asked. “Also, may I just say that this dinner is absolutely fabulous?” 

“Aw, thank you dear,” she said with a smile. She shrugged a little. “I suppose, in a way. Thing is, we had this little one,” (at this, she leaned over and ruffled her son’s hair, eliciting a glare from him) “to look after, and some people did not want to make it easy for us.” 

“In what way?” Roy asked. Immediately he felt stupid for asking and opened his mouth to take it back, but Gillian was already answering. 

“Well, it was the seventies and eighties, in a fairly white area of London,” she said. “Some people weren’t able to grasp that people of different races could fall in love. Trying to find a preschool for Moss was such a nightmare that we gave up in the end.” 

“I remember once Dad wanted to take us on a boat ride down the Thames,” Moss said. “I can’t have been older than four. We were sitting there, waiting to go, when someone came up to us and told us we had to get off, because people had complained. Dad was fuming.” 

“He was,” Gillian said with a knowing nod. 

“God, that’s awful,” Roy replied. He shook his head, putting his knife and fork down for a moment. The other two shrugged a little, as if they were used to it. 

“What about you, Roy?” Gillian asked, smiling at him. “What’s your family like?” 

“There’s not really much to say,” Roy said with a shrug. “I’m the youngest of four: three older sisters. Standard Irish family, I suppose. Yeah, not much to tell.” 

“Do they know you’re gay?” Gillian said. 

“Mum!” Moss hissed, glaring at her. Roy laughed a little, reaching over and putting his hand over Moss’. 

“It’s fine, love,” he said to him before turning back to Gillian. “No, they don’t know that I’m bisexual.” 

“You never know, they might already know,” she told him, giving him a look. 

“What, did you already know about Moss?” Roy replied with a laugh. She chuckled a little, shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. 

“As sneaky as he always thought he was being, he wasn’t very good at hiding things,” she said, casting a look over at her son. 

“Well maybe if you didn’t go snooping in my room!” Moss replied angrily, shooting daggers at his mother. 

“Darling, under your pillow is not a good hiding place when you know I change your sheets!” 

Roy couldn’t help but giggle, putting his hand over his mouth. Moss glared at both of them, grabbing his plate and storming out of the room. They heard his feet on the stairs, and then his bedroom door slam. They were both quiet for a moment, before Roy looked at Gillian and said, 

“Should one of us go after him?” 

“He’s exactly like his father,” she said dismissively. “Give him ten minutes and he’ll cool off.” 

“I never realised all that stuff happened with Moss and his dad from other people,” Roy said. Gillian smiled a little sadly, nodding. 

“I’ll be honest, my boy hasn’t drawn the best straw, privilege wise,” she said. “He’s mixed race, gay and autistic. The only way it could be worse for him is if he was a woman.” 

“Do you worry about him?” 

“He’s my baby, of course I worry about him.” She sighed, pushing a carrot around her plate. “But I know that he’s somewhat able to handle himself, and well…” She looked up at him, smiling. “With you, it might be a bit easier on him.” 

They were quiet for a little while longer, eating their food. After a little while, Gillian looked back over to Roy, a thoughtful look on her face. 

“You should tell your parents about your sexuality,” she said softly. Roy bit his lip, looking over to the side. 

“I’m just worried they’ll react badly,” he replied. 

“Have they ever been homophobic?” Roy shook his head. “You should call them, tell them. Do it here, if you want to. I need to talk to Moss, anyway.” 

At that moment, there were footsteps on the stairs and a moment later, Moss appeared in the doorway. He was holding an empty plate and looking sheepish. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” his mother said with a warm smile. She got up, taking her and Roy’s empty plates (before Roy could stop her, mind) and making her way to the kitchen. The boys both followed him.

“Um, Moss, I’m gonna call my parents,” Roy said nervously as he leaned against the counter. “Is that alright?” 

“Of course it is,” Moss said with a smile. He leant over and kissed Roy quickly before going over to where his mother was standing and giving her a quick hug. “I’m glad you like him, mum.” 

“Why wouldn’t I like him?” she asked with a smile. “He’s a lovely young man. Now come on, you can help me fold up the washing, considering half of it’s yours, whilst he calls his parents.” 

“I’m not the one who changes every ten seconds!” Moss complained as he followed her out of the kitchen. Roy chuckled a little, shaking his head as he listened to them good-naturedly bicker all the way up the stairs. Reminded him of himself with his mother. God, he needed to go and see them again soon. 

Well, if this phone call went well, maybe he could go over soon? 

Going over to the living room, he sat down on the sofa and pulled out his phone. His hand was shaking as he scrolled through his contact list to find his mum’s number. 

“Please go well…” he murmured as he listened to the dialling tone. 

His mum picked up on the second ring. 

“Hi, baby!” she said. 

“Hi, mum,” he replied. Even though he was nervous, he couldn’t help but smile. He always did when he was talking to his parents. 

“How are you, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. He paused, clearing his throat. “Look, mum, I need to tell you something.” 

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” she said. Roy took a deep breath, steeling himself. All of a sudden he wasn’t exactly sure of what to say, but then he thought back to how Moss had done it. He’d just come out and said it. Yes, maybe that would work.

“I’m bisexual.” 

He’d been expecting a gasp, or a pause, or something at least. Nope. 

“Really?” his mother said. Her tone was distinctly sarcastic. “I don’t believe it.” 

“You knew, didn’t you!?” he exclaimed. His mum started to laugh, and he could picture her shaking her head. 

“We had an inkling, darling,” she said. “We were just waiting for you to tell us. I’m assuming you’re telling us because you got a boyfriend?” 

“Yeah,” Roy mumbled, cheeks burning a little. 

“That friend you work with?” 

“Okay, are you spying on me or something?” 

“Roy, you’re as transparent as glass,” she said with a laugh. “We don’t really care, love. Just as long as he makes you happy.” 

“Thank you, mum,” he told her. He could feel his heart swelling, and knew that he would have to get off the phone soon lest he start crying. “It means a lot.” 

“Just promise you’ll come over for Christmas? It’s been so long since we’ve all seen you!” 

Roy smiled over the phone. Maybe Moss had been right. It had been twenty years, after all. People had matured, moved on. 

“Yeah. I’ll make sure to bring him with me for you all to meet.”

Chapter Text

The first time Roy noticed it happening, he wasn’t exactly sure what to think. 

He had been alone in the basement, hoping the phone would not ring, when he got a sudden feeling that he had to go upstairs. He didn’t know why. There was no reason for him to need to. Moss was up on Floor Seven, helping some girl with her computer. Roy had wanted to go up himself, but Moss had cast him a look and told him that he would sort it out just fine by himself. 

Rising from his chair, he took a look around the office. Jen was on her lunch break, so she probably wouldn’t be back for a while. Would it really hurt the clientele if they had to figure out their own computer problems for a while? No, it wouldn’t. 

He got up and found himself bounding up the stairs (even though the elevator had been fixed a couple of weeks ago) towards the seventh floor. When he got there he was panting a little, and had to take a moment to catch his breath against a hidden corner. He took a deep breath, brushing himself down and rounding the corner. 

Moss was standing by the far wall, next to the Floor Seven offices. He had his back to where Roy was standing. In front of him, her eyes fixed on Moss, was one of the Floor Seven girls. She was called Candy, a new girl that hadn’t been there more than a month. She must have been the one who had called for her computer to be fixed. She was twisting her long ginger hair around her finger, and as Roy watched on she began to laugh a fake, high-pitched laugh. 

That’s when Roy’s interest started to pique. As much as he loved Moss, the man’s humour (especially when it was intentional) wasn’t exactly what most would consider hilarious. He couldn’t see Moss’ face, and he didn’t dare move to be able to see it lest his boyfriend notice him. Candy was smiling up at Moss, a stupid smile that made Roy want to slap her in the face. She reached up and rested her hand on his upper arm. 

He didn’t bat her away. 

Nope. Roy had seen enough. He strode forward, clearing his throat just as he reached Moss. Both Candy and Moss looked over him. Candy lowered her hand from Moss’ arm. 

“What are you doing up here?” Moss asked. His words were accusatory, but his tone was soft. 

“I just wanted some food,” Roy said quickly. He was, of course, lying through his teeth. “Yeah, the best machines are on this floor.” 

“You could have just called m--” 

“Well I’m here now, aren’t I?” Roy interrupted. He turned to Candy as he put on his best fake smile. “Hi, I’m Roy.” 

“Candy,” she replied with a warm smile. “Have we met yet?” 

“No, I don’t think we have.” 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you anyhow.” 

The three of them made small talk for another few minutes, then Roy realised he couldn’t get away with this for very much longer and bid them farewell. He had to consciously remind himself not to kiss Moss as we walked away. 

He was cursing under his breath the whole time whilst he was feeding coins into the vending machine. Since he was only down the corridor from the two, he couldn’t help his eyes shifting to the side, watching them from the corner of his peripheral vision. They were talking and laughing together. Clenching his teeth together, he forced himself to look back to the vending machine. Inevitably he looked back, just in time to see Candy lean forward and tuck something into Moss’ top pocket. She stood on her tiptoes, planted a kiss on his cheek and smiled at him before turning on her heel and sashaying away back into the office. 

Roy grabbed his chocolate bar and walked the opposite way to Moss to get back downstairs.

He spent the rest of the day glaring at his computer screen, playing aggressive computer games and ignoring Moss and Jen. When five o’clock came around, he tried to get Moss to go back to his mum’s, claiming that he had housework to do, but his boyfriend had offered to help and he hadn’t known how to convince him otherwise. 

Curiosity was eating away at him. What had been on that paper that Candy had put in Moss’ pocket? Why had Moss let her kiss him on the cheek? Why hadn’t he stopped her in her tracks? 

All night, all through dinner and watching whatever movie they had put on that night (Roy had not been paying attention) Moss was on his phone. In fact he barely looked up from it. The screen was constantly lighting up, catching Roy’s eye. Even as he poked his head into the bedroom as he did his teeth, Moss was sat on the edge of the bed, still on his phone as he yawned and absent-mindedly rubbed one eye. He shook his head, finishing up what he was doing before going over and plucking the phone out of Moss’ hand. Moss looked up at him, mouth dropping open as he reached up to try and take it back. Roy clicked it off, holding it up high. Moss pouted at him. 

“Come on, it’s late,” Roy said. Moss made a face at him, folding his arms over his chest. “What are you even doing, anyway?” 

“Candy wants my help on a website she’s making,” Moss replied. Whilst Roy was distracted, he jumped up and took his phone back. “I told her I would.” 

“Yeah, the website isn’t the only thing she wants,” Roy mumbled under his breath. Moss fixed him with a sharp look. 

“What did you say?” 

“Oh nothing, just talking to myself,” Roy said. He cleared his throat, coming round to sit next to his boyfriend on the bed. “Just tell her you’ll talk to her tomorrow.” 

“She was just asking if we could go for coffee on Saturday to talk about it,” Moss replied, not looking up from where he was typing on his phone. “I’ll just let her know that I can and then I’ll put it down, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Roy said.

Except it wasn’t okay. It was far from okay. Most of the night Roy lay awake, a million possibilities running through his head. They were going for coffee. Alone. Just the two of them. He’d already let her kiss him on the cheek, would he try to stop her if she went to kiss him on the lips? Anyway, everyone knew that “going for coffee” almost always ended in something more than coffee. They’d been texting all night, and presumably all afternoon as well. Moss had ignored him all night for this girl! Who he didn’t even know! 

Somewhere around one a.m, he looked over to Moss. His boyfriend was fast asleep, curled on his side with one arm thrown across Roy’s stomach. He still had his glasses on. Roy shook his head, reaching forward and gently removed them, putting them on the bedside table. For a little while, he watched his boyfriend sleep. 

He sighed, shaking his head as he lay down, wrapping his arms around Moss’ middle. It’d be fine. He knew Moss. 

***

For the rest of the week, Roy found himself noticing little things, here and there. All of a sudden he was noticing whenever Moss went upstairs to “help someone with their computer”. Every time Moss’ phone pinged and the man wasn’t there to see it straight away, he found himself resisting the urge to go over and look at the notification. As the week rolled on, he went up to the seventh floor vending machine so many times a day that he had to break out the old machine he’d built back when Jen was still new and Deynholm was in charge. Jen was starting to notice his constant sidewards glances, and kept trying to question him. Every time he resisted, though. 

By the time Saturday came, Roy couldn’t help himself. All week he’d been battling against his curiosity, and now it was all too much. He waited until Moss had left, of course. He knew exactly where his boyfriend was going, as he had told him the other day. He left it enough time for Moss to get there and sit down before he left the house and followed him there. 

He wore his ratty hoodie from the back of the cupboard, hood pulled up of course, and one of his old pairs of stupid sunglasses. He drove to the little coffee shop, parking around the corner, and when he got there he immediately clocked Moss, sat by the window with that horrible woman opposite him. Roy took a shaky breath before walking into the shop. 

Luckily Moss didn’t look up. He kept his head bent low, ordering quietly and taking a seat in the darkest furthermost corner of the cafe. For the next forty-five minutes, he watched as Moss and Candy talked together. God, she was showing all the signs of flirtiness. Leaning forward towards him, laughing at his terrible jokes (the shop was small and Roy could hear everything they were saying: trust him, the jokes were awful), constantly looking down at his lips. Every time she leaned forward and touched him, maybe a hand on his arm or his shoulder, Roy felt as if he could go over there and throttle her. 

Even though Moss didn’t seem to be doing anything, somehow Roy’s fears that had been building all week still weren’t allayed. He had been about to get up and leave, to go home and cry into his pillow until Moss got home and he had to invent some stupid story, when he had hit his knee on the underside of the table trying to stand. Of course it made a bang, making the limited clientele of the shop all look up and over to him. 

Including Moss and Candy. 

Despite the shades and hoodie, Moss knew straight away that it was Roy. Slowly, Roy looked up from the floor to see his boyfriend glaring at him from across the shop. He considered running, but he knew it was no good. He walked over to the door of the cafe, staring at the floor. He heard Moss say something to Candy, and then a moment later Moss was next to him. 

“Car, now,” Moss hissed fiercely. 

Roy was so scared that he complied immediately. 

The car ride home was entirely silent. Moss was staring out of the window, a smouldering glare that made Roy wonder how the glass hadn’t melted yet. A queasy feeling was growing in the Irishman’s stomach. It was a strange nervousness that he didn’t think he’d ever experienced before, but it definitely was not anything he wanted to experience again. It was only a three-minute car ride, but it felt like three hours. 

As soon as the front door closed, the argument started. 

“Why the flip were you sneaking around after me?” Moss demanded. Roy shrugged, taking the sunglasses off and shrugging his hoodie off. 

“Don’t know,” he murmured, addressing the floor rather than his boyfriend. 

“Well there must be a reason! You didn’t just happen to be in the exact same place at the exact same time I was meeting Candy when you’ve been snooping on my phone all week!” 

“I haven’t!” Roy retorted. He looked up. 

“I know when someone touches my things, Roy.”

There was a pause. 

“Okay, one time, but it had been pinging for twenty minutes!” he admitted. Unconsciously his voice was starting to rise. “And I’m glad I did!” 

“For goodness’ sake, I told you I was just helping her with her website!” Moss replied. His voice was full of anger, but not raised in any way shape or form. “She’s done nothing to make you like this.” 

“Oh for God’s sake, she’s been flirting with you all week!” Roy shouted. 

Moss stopped. His mouth hung open a little as he stared at his boyfriend. He blinked at him. 

“W-what?” he whispered, his voice breaking a little. All of his anger seemed to have left him. 

“How have you not noticed it!?” Roy continued. Still his voice was loud. “She’s been touching you, leaning towards you, she even fucking kissed you on the cheek the other day! The way she speaks to you over messages looks like how someone speaks to someone they’re dating!” 

“Well, well, well…” Moss stammered. His eyes were starting to fill with tears. “Well, you’re just jealous that she’s not giving you all the attention!” 

“ I’m not fucking jealous! ” Roy screamed. “I couldn’t give less of a shit if she doesn’t like me! You have ignored me all week ‘cause you’ve been too busy talking to her!” 

“Why can’t you just trust me?” Moss said, his voice small and quiet. Roy threw his head back, laughing a little. Moss stared down at the ground, quickly wiping away the tears that were starting to fall. 

“Coming from the man who used to regularly say he doesn’t trust me.” 

“I do!” Moss complained, although he was addressing the floor rather than his boyfriend. “I trust you more than anyone in the world, and it hurts that you think I’d ever do anything like that to you.” 

“You’re so… oblivious!” Roy yelled. He threw his hands up, pacing the room. “Yeah, maybe you don’t want to, but she’d lead you on and lead you on, and before you knew it you’d be in bed with her without ever realising it!” 

“I wouldn’t,” Moss whispered, but he said it so quietly that Roy didn’t even hear it. 

“You’re feeding into her sick little game! By interacting with her and appeasing her, you’re basically telling her that you’re interested in her! She fucking… she fucking likes you, Moss, and you don’t even know! You think everyone is just here to be nice and lovely to you and they never want anything more than a friendship, but trust me, she would very much like to--” 

At this point, Roy had got just a little too close to Moss and had thrown his hands up a little too quickly. Moss winced harder than Roy had ever seen anyone wince before, his hands flying to cover his head. Roy stopped, suddenly realising that…

God, he had been jealous. 

His anger drained away immediately, and he felt truly awful as he looked at Moss essentially cowering there in front of him. Moss didn’t know. Moss didn’t make this girl like him, or make her flirt with him. Moss just wanted to help her with this website. It wasn’t his fault he struggled with recognising when people were showing their feelings towards him. Roy stepped forward, reaching forward and gently resting his hands on Moss’ arms. 

“Hey,” he murmured, making a conscious effort to lower his voice. He could feel Moss trembling. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to shout so much. I just got really mad when I shouldn’t have done and I took it out on you.” 

Moss didn’t reply, but he lowered his arms and reached forward, wrapping his hands around Roy’s waist. He leaned his head against his boyfriend’s chest. Roy wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, holding him close. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, resting his head against the top of Moss’. “I should have trusted you.” 

“I’m not even attracted to her!” Moss said with a small, sob-filled laugh. 

“I know, baby.” 

“You shouldn’t have followed me.” 

“I know I shouldn’t have.” Moss leaned away, looking up at his boyfriend. His eyes were damp and there were still tears running down his cheeks. Roy reached up and brushed the tears away with his thumb. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I was jealous, but not because she was giving you attention. It’s because she was taking your’s away from me.” 

“Do you want me to stop helping her?” Moss asked. Roy took a moment to think about it, and then sighed heavily.  

“No,” he said eventually. “No, I trust you. Just… have a quiet word with her, yeah? Give her the NDA, let her down gently. It’s not fair on her to keep chasing something she can’t have.” 

Moss nodded. He dried his eyes, turning his head and resting his cheek back against Roy’s chest. 

“I’m still annoyed at you,” he mumbled. 

“Don’t blame you. I’d be annoyed at me too.” 

“I might watch the telly all day and banish you to the bedroom.” 

“That’s fine.” 

They kissed quickly, and Moss unwrapped himself from his boyfriend. He walked over to the sofa, sitting down and clicking the telly. He turned and fixed Roy with a look. 

Roy nearly started to see the funny side as he sloped off to the bedroom.

Chapter Text

September 2014 

It was the day of Morgan’s wedding. 

Moss and Roy had now been together for three months. Still nobody really knew, but the two of them were definitely starting to settle into their relationship. For the last month Roy had been helping Moss write his best man’s speech. It had been a bit of a worry for Moss, but they were both quite chuffed with what they had produced. 

The night before, Morgan had put them up in the same luxury hotel she was staying at. It was the nicest place either of them had ever stayed in before. They treated themselves to room service (although still the cheapest thing from the menu: old habits die hard) and spent the whole night watching movies together. It had been enjoyable, to get away from everything like that. Plus Roy got to steal expensive toiletries, so he was happy. 

When the morning came, they were awoken by Morgan storming into their room and shaking them both roughly awake. Roy woke up first (being a naturally light sleep) and blinked up at her, extracting his arm from under Moss and rubbing his eyes. 

“What time is it?” he asked quietly. His voice was low and gruff. Morgan shrugged a little, glancing at her watch. 

“Six?” she said. “Doesn’t matter. Come on, up. We need to start prepping stuff.” 

“Yeah, good luck getting Moss up,” Roy said. Since he was awake now anyway, and knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon, he got up and sat on the edge of the bed. He winced when the sunlight, just breaking through the thin gap in the curtains, hit him in the eyes. “He’ll be asleep ‘til half seven, nothing you can do about it.” 

Morgan gave him a pleading look. She went over to the armchair in the corner and threw herself down into it. 

“Can’t you get him up?” she asked. Roy sighed, making a face. 

“I can, but he’ll be annoyed at us both for at least two hours.”

“A price I’m willing to pay. Go.” 

Roy sighed again. He leaned over, resting his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder and pressing a gentle kiss to a spot just behind his ear. Moss made a small noise, rolling over towards Roy. His eyes were still closed. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Roy whispered with a smile, his voice soft. Moss shook his head slightly, reaching forward and pulling Roy closer to him. Roy chuckled a little. “Come on, Morgan wants us up.” 

“Tell her to go away,” Moss groaned. Morgan laughed a little. 

“I’m right here, Moss,” she said. 

“Then go away.” 

“Love, come on,” Roy said, giving Moss a small shake. Moss made an irritated noise, rolling back over onto his side. “I’ll make you tea.” 

Moss rolled over again, opening one eye and looking up at Roy with hope in his eyes. 

“What about one of those butterscotch hot chocolate packets that came free with the room?” 

“Whatever you want, baby. Just please get up?” 

With a small groan, Moss opened his other eye and sat up, reaching over for his glasses. Once he put them on, he looked over to where Morgan was sitting and fixed her with a steely glare. She laughed again, shaking her head. 

“Sorry, Moss, but it had to be done,” she said. “You’re, like, the only one who knows how to do my dress properly.” 

Moss fixed her with a look. He furrowed his brow, nose wrinkling as he began to look like he was figuring out a particularly difficult problem. Both Roy and Morgan watched him worriedly. 

“You’re nervous,” he eventually said quietly. Morgan nodded. She sat forward and put her head in her hands. 

“Of course I’m nervous!” she exclaimed. “And scared and just… it’s like every emotion at once!” 

Moss got up from the edge of the bed. Walking over to Morgan, he got her to stand, and then pulled her into a hug. She rested her head against him, holding him close. 

“It’s going to be fine,” he whispered to her. She sniffed deeply. 

“You really think so?” 

“I know so.”

They were both quiet for a moment, as Roy watched in the background. 

“God, this brings back memories,” Morgan said with a small tear-filled laugh. Moss chuckled, nodding his head. 

“GCSE Physics exam? Monday morning?” 

“God that was a bad day.” 

They both laughed again before letting each other go. Morgan took a deep breath, nodding her head. “Sorry for getting you both up so early.” 

“It’s fine,” Roy said quickly before Moss could get a word in. “Totally get it.” 

Morgan flashed him a weak smile. 

“Shall we get breakfast?” 

***

The rest of the morning passed in a whirlwind of hair, makeup and dressing. Roy had never realised how much went into making women look the way they did as he watched Morgan’s little army of makeup artists and hair stylists work on her. Moss was sitting in a corner in his suit playing on his phone, as was standard when he had to wait anywhere for more than five minutes. Roy was sitting on the edge of the bed, his suit jacket next to him, marvelling at the amount of things going into and onto Morgan’s hair. 

“Do you still talk to anyone from school?” Moss asked all of a sudden, looking up from his phone. Morgan shrugged as well as she could without moving her hair. 

“Not really,” she said. “I have some of them on Friendface, though. Remember that girl Bonnie?” 

“Yeah, the one in your English class?” 

“Yeah. Right bitch now. Really horrible.” 

Moss made a face, looking back down at his phone. 

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” he said absent-mindedly. “How you think you’re going to be friends with these people for the rest of your life and then nothing comes of it?” 

“What are you getting at, Moss?” Roy asked from the bed. Moss started a little, looking up with an expression that made him seem surprised at the fact there were people in the room other than himself. 

“Oh, erm, nothing,” he said. 

By the time Morgan’s hair and makeup was done, it was nearly twelve. The car was coming at one. Morgan disappeared into another room for about ten minutes, leaving Roy and Moss alone in the room for a little while. Moss moved over to sit next to Roy, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Roy put his arm around him, holding him close. 

Then Morgan emerged, and it was like a princess had stepped into the room. 

The dress was a beautiful mermaid cut. The bottom half was plain white, flowing down to the floor with a long train. The top half was fully lace, with small spaghetti straps. It was almost completely open back. She smiled at the boys (who were staring at her with open mouths), putting her hands out to the side. 

“What do you think?” she asked nervously. 

“It’s gorgeous!” Roy said. 

“You look like a princess,” Moss added. She grinned at them. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really!” Roy said with a small laugh. “Seriously, Morgan, it’s lovely.” 

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Moss got up, heading over and opening it up. It was Morgan’s father, with his granddaughter by his side. 

“Maurice Moss, it’s nice to see you, son,” he said with a warm smile, clapping him on the shoulder. Moss gave him an awkward smile. 

“You too, sir,” he replied. 

“Mummy, mummy, you look beautiful!” Isabella yelled, running forward towards her mother. She was wearing a puffy champagne-coloured flower girl dress. 

“So do you, my little adventurer,” Morgan said, leaning down and kissing her daughter on the cheek. “Have you been behaving yourself for Nanny and Grandad?” 

“She’s been an angel,” Morgan’s father said, coming forward. He looked at his daughter, a smile growing on his face. “You look beautiful, darling.” 

“Thanks, dad,” Morgan replied. She turned so she could look at everyone in the room, smiling. “Let’s go and get me married!” 

***

“Smile!” 

The camera light flashed, and Moss did his very best not to blink. 

Morgan’s wedding had been simply lovely so far. It was an all-day outdoor affair, risky during early autumn in Britain, but the Gods had smiled down on Morgan and Leanne and it had been nothing but sunshine all day.

Hopefully, though, this would be the last picture. They had been at it for an hour and a half now. 

“Okay, that’s all the formals, folks!” the photographer called, fiddling with his camera. Moss let out a sigh of relief, turning to his boyfriend with a grin. 

“Thank God that’s over,” he said. Roy laughed, wrapping his arms around him. 

“You did great,” the Irishman said. They kissed quickly as the brides approached them. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Moss,” Morgan said. She gave him a quick look, he nodded and she pulled him into a short, one-armed hug. “You’re still okay to give the speech?”

“Of course,” he replied, patting his top pocket. “I hope you won’t be disappointed.” 

“Oh, of course I won’t be!” she exclaimed, kissing him on the cheek and looping her arm in her wife’s. Leanne grinned at her.

“Hopefully the next wedding we’ll be at is you two’s,” Leanne commented. Laughing at the boys’ deer-in-headlights expressions, she turned to Morgan and said, “come on, wifey, let’s go and mingle with our guests.” 

***

Morgan and Leanne didn’t have a sit-down dinner: instead, they decided that they would bin away with all that nonsense and just have a barbecue instead. There were burgers, sausages, chicken legs, steaks, even a huge hog roast rotating in the corner of the field manned by one overwhelmed-looking teenager. It was quite nice, Moss thought as he chewed thoughtfully on his burger. Every wedding he’d been dragged to as a child had been stuffy and boring, and almost all of them had ended in divorce. This seemed much happier. 

“How are they gonna do the speeches?” Roy asked through a mouthful of food. They were sat side-by-side on their suit jackets on a grassy slope, no doubt ruining their clothes but neither of them giving a single shit. 

“I think Morgan said they were going to get everyone in the marquee,” Moss said after he’d swallowed. “Do the speeches, cut the cake, first dance, that sort of thing.” 

“I never realised weddings could be like this,” Roy mused. He leant his head on Moss’ shoulder, looking up at him. “I like it.”

“I like it too,” Moss said, wrapping his arm around his partner’s waist. 

“Moss!” Morgan called from the other side of the field. They both looked up to see Morgan and Leanne beckoning them over. They hauled themselves up, only just remembering to grab their jackets as they walked over to them. “Speeches start in five minutes.” 

“Can I go first, if that’s okay?” Moss asked. The newly married couple nodded.

“I don’t see why not,” Leanne said. Moss smiled at them, nodding his head. 

Five minutes later, Morgan went over to the cake table and retrieved a megaphone. Moss and Roy shot her a concerned look, but she simply rolled her eyes at them and stalked outside. Then they heard her calling for everybody to come inside if they wanted a bit of cake. Of course, everyone quickly descended upon the marquee, and soon it was nearly full. Moss gulped, feeling a little shaky as he looked out over the sea of people. 

“Good, now you’re all here,” Morgan said, coming over to the cake table to stand with Leanne. Roy suddenly realised that he was standing up front with Moss and tried to edge away, but Moss was holding onto his hand with a vice-like grip and he couldn’t move. “Speeches! First up, a guy who was my best friend throughout my teenage years and who taught me that authenticity is always better.” She smiled at Moss. “Pray silence for the best man, Maurice Moss!” 

Moss stepped forward a little, clearing his throat. There were a lot of people in front of him, nearly one hundred in fact. He took a moment to steel himself, and then began to talk. 

“Morgan Robertson deserves only the best. When we were younger, there was no reason for her to be friends with me. She was the most popular girl in school, and I was the nerd who messed around with the Rubix cube at the back of the class. And yet she was friends with me. Her choice. She helped me realise so much about myself. Without her, I wouldn’t be where I am today.” He paused, looking at Roy, who gave him an encouraging smile and squeezed his hand.

As Roy watched his boyfriend speak, not the speech they had prepared at all but somehow ten times better, he couldn’t ignore the warm feelings swelling in his chest. Moss was so beautiful like this, being all confident and out there. Roy loved that look on him. It was gorgeous.  

Moss glanced over at Leanne. “You’ve got a good one, Leanne. Look after her.” He raised his glass. “To the brides!” 

“To the brides!” the room chorused in unison. 

Later on, after two more speeches that went on for considerably longer than Moss’, the cutting of the cake and the happy couple’s first dance (accompanied by their daughter and dog), Moss and Roy found themselves slow-dancing to some sappy romantic song. There were a few other couples on the dance floor doing the same, but the two of them barely noticed, foreheads pressed together as they tried not to trip over each others’ feet. 

“I love you,” Roy murmured. Moss smiled at him. Roy didn’t say this to him in public often. 

“I love you too.” 

“Would you want to do something like this one day, maybe?” the Irishman asked. He was looking at Moss nervously, like he was scared of what Moss would say. Moss looked up at him, his eyes glistening with tears and adoration. 

“Of course I would,” he whispered. Roy laughed quietly, leaning down and kissing him softly. 

“Love you.” 

“Love you too.”

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks since Morgan’s wedding, and the boys had been doing some thinking. 

This wasn’t their regular thinking. No, that was normally things like “what if Hulk was made of something else?” or “what if Star Wars and Star Trek combined?” . This was much more serious thinking, the sort of thinking that had caused them both many sleepless nights, whispering away to each other in the darkness. 

Fortunately, they were saved from thinking too much about it by a stupid mistake. 

It all started when Jen came into the office one morning, holding a packaged bra above her head in triumph. 

“It’s been approved!” she said when the other two looked up from their respective computers. “The Abracada-bra goes on sale next week!” 

“That’s great,” Roy said a little off-handedly, glancing back at his computer. “Why are you telling us?” 

Moss nodded, along, giving Jen a look. She sighed heavily, lowering her arms and tucking the packet under her arm. She went over to the armchair, sitting down in it. She threw the packet onto the coffee table. 

“Because we’re going to have to do a press conference,” she said. That piqued the boys’ interest. They both looked up at her in alarm. “All three of us. Try and get some promotion in for it.” 

“So I’m guessing we don’t mention how the prototypes used to spontaneously catch fire?” Moss asked. Jen fixed him with a look. 

“No,” she said, her tone heavily condescending. She sighed. “Look, we need to try and get people to actually buy this. We know it’s good, the scientists have proved it’s good, but people need to know it’s good. Plus the company has a bad rap: we need to try and persuade people that Reynholm Industries is a good company.” 

“How are we supposed to do that?” Roy asked. He wheeled his chair away from his desk and over to the coffee machine. Jen shrugged. 

“Just answer questions, I suppose. Be truthful, let them know what changes we’re making to make the company better.” 

The other two nodded, but they didn’t look too sure.

***

Throughout that week before the press conference, Jen would constantly catch them off-guard asking them questions about the Abracada-bra and the company. She had scared Moss so many times that he had nearly run out of shirts that didn’t have tea or squash stains on them. The first few times she had done it they had been unable to answer, but by the end of the week they could answer quickly and confidently pretty much whatever Jen asked them. 

The press conference took place on Friday afternoon, just after lunch. They had provided all of the journalists with food, coffee and cake during their lunch hour, but mainly so they could get them all in one room and the three of them could watch them from around the corner. 

Roy could tell Moss was nervous. He kept messing with his tie and playing with his glasses. He desperately wanted to pull him into a hug, or even just hold his hand to help calm him down, but they were at work. They couldn’t. He was honestly starting to get tired of having to hide everything. He knew why they were doing it, but it didn’t mean he enjoyed it any more. 

“Remember what we talked about?” Jen hissed at them as they stood outside of the conference room, waiting for all of the journalists to find their seats. There were rather a lot of them. Moss and Roy both nodded, and Moss gulped nervously. “Moss, take the questions on the product. I’ll try and take the ones about the general company. Roy… I don’t know, if someone asks you a question, answer as best you can.” 

“Lovely,” Roy said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Great advice. Really helps me knowing how much confidence you have in me.” 

“Shut up,” Jen muttered. At that moment, their secretary appeared at the door, telling them that they were ready for them. They all took one last look at each other, nodded and made their way into the room.

As soon as they sat down, the flash photography started. The lights were bright, and Moss looked straight to Roy, giving him a panicked look. Roy could see Moss’ breathing getting quicker. Reaching under the desk, he took Moss’ hand (which was sitting on his leg) and gave him an encouraging smile. Moss took a deep breath, smiling back at him. 

“Hello everyone, and thank you for being here today,” Jen said as she put on her best winning smile, looking out over everyone in the room. “I’m Jen Barber, and by the side of me are Roy Trenneman and Maurice Moss. We are the new CEOs of Reynholm Industries, having taken over when Douglas Reynholm disappeared back in February. Today’s press conference is to discuss our new product the Abracada-bra. I’d like to open up questioning?” 

“Mr Moss, Mr Moss! Sheila Bloom, Daily Telegraph! What makes this bra different from others on the market?” 

As Roy listened to Moss tell the crowd about the complicated science behind the product, he had to really concentrate on keeping his stupid lovesick smile off his face. He squeezed Moss’ hand under the desk. He noticed Moss’ eyes flick quickly towards him and the ghost of a smile crossed over his face as he continued to talk, and couldn’t help but smile then. 

The press conference, after this, seemed to drag on, and on, and on . None of the questions ever came to Roy, and after his first extensive answer barely any came to Moss. Both of them sat there, feeling rather useless as Jen continued to answer any and all of the questions, only occasionally asking for their input. Under the desk, they had played a couple of games of Thumb War, and were struggling to keep the smiles off their faces as they tried not to look at each other. 

It had been nearly forty-five minutes when someone asked the question.

“Hi, this question is for Mr Moss and Mr Trenneman?” a journalist in the middle row said, raising her hand. Moss and Roy perked up at that, smiling at him and nodding at her. She cleared her throat, leaning forward. Her pen was poised above her notepad. 

“I was just wondering what it’s like, being CEOs of a large company whilst being in a homosexual relationship?” she asked, her voice as sweet as sugar. “I just think it’s very brave of you to be so open about it.” 

Roy could feel his heart hammering in his chest. How? How did she know? They’d been so careful, covered up so much… When he looked to his side, he could see that Moss was in full panic mode, breathing shallowly and staring at the table. 

The clear glass table.

Shit, Roy thought. That’s how she knew: she’d been watching them hold hands under the table the whole time! 

“Well, it’s exactly the same as if we were a heterosexual couple,” he heard himself saying. “We have no reason not to be open about it.” 

“Has anyone got any more questions about the company?” Jen asked a little desperately, trying to steer the attention away from them and their relationship, but the damage was done. All of the journalists were all shouting at once, thrusting their tape recorders forward, cameras were going off left, right and center, and it wasn’t long before it all became too much for Moss. He stood quickly, leaning down and kissing Roy quickly on the lips before turning and practically sprinting out of the room. Jen and Roy both stopped for a moment. The journalists paused for just a second, and then the shouting started again. 

“Where has he gone?” 

“Is he okay?” 

“Can you tell us what caused him to run off?” 

“I think that tells you all you need to know,” Roy said after a minute or two, once the questions had quieted down a little. He stood, shooting Jen a look. She gave him a small nod, and he turned on his heel and ran out of that horrible room to go after Moss. 

He found his boyfriend back downstairs in the basement, lying on the sofa with his face buried in the cushions and his hands over his ears. Roy sat down on the armchair, staying quiet as he let Moss calm himself down. After ten minutes or so, Moss took his hands away from his ears, shifting onto his side and looking over at Roy. 

“I heard you come in,” he whispered. 

“Sorry, I tried to be quiet,” Roy replied, his voice soft. Moss shrugged. 

“I know. You were.” 

“So-o-o-o-o-o…” Roy said a little awkwardly, clapping his hands on his knees and making a face. “I guess we’re… out to people.” 

“Yeah, I suppose we are,” Moss said. 

“Where do we go from here?” 

“Not sure. I guess just what we were doing before, but we can do it in public now.” 

“Do what in public?” 

“Hold hands, kiss?” Moss shrugged again, moving the cushion down and curling himself up on the sofa. “I don’t know. I’m tired.” 

“Go to sleep,” Roy whispered, getting up and kissing Moss on the cheek. “I’ll deal with Jen.” 

Moss smiled at him, and when they kissed this time, neither of them were worried about whether or not someone would walk in.

Chapter Text

Since coming out during the press conference a month ago, the boys had had quite a strange experience. Some people had been overwhelmingly positive to them, writing in and telling them that them coming out had inspired them to do the same in their own lives. It was quite sweet, really. Popular LGBTQ+ groups had started to advocate their support for the company, quoting them as “one to watch” . 

Some people, however, were not so positive. It was only inevitable that it was going to happen, but the first time a horrible email popped into one of their inboxes it wasn’t pleasant. It had been full of slurs and curses, and luckily it had dropped into Roy’s inbox so Moss didn’t see that first one. He did see some of the next ones, though, and accidentally picked the phone up on a few calls where the person had screamed down the phone at him, telling him that he and Roy were abominations and shouldn’t exist. He had frozen until Roy had come up behind him, gently taking the phone and putting it down. There had been threats, but they were half-arsed and neither of them really took much notice of them. 

Thing is, coming out had pushed Moss into making a decision. 

“Roy, can I talk to you about something?” he asked one night as they were driving home. Roy nodded, but his concentration was clearly elsewhere. “I think we should move in together.” 

Roy started so violently that the car actually swerved. He swore loudly, getting control of the car back before turning to a terrified-looking Moss with his mouth hanging open. 

“Could’ve given me a bit of warning!” he exclaimed. Moss gave him a confused look. 

“I did. I told you I wanted to talk.” 

“Yeah, but I thought about dinner or something!” Roy took a shaky breath, shaking his head as he pulled into his street. “Jesus.” 

“I’m guessing you don’t want to, then,” Moss said quietly, looking down at his shoes as he did so. Roy shook his head, sighing a little. 

“Look, I never said that. God, I-- look, let’s get some food and then we can talk about this, okay?” he said. Moss glanced up at him, giving him a look.

“You just ate a packet of crisps at work,” he said a little disapprovingly. 

“Yeah, well, I’m hungry again,” Roy said, his tone a tad defensive. Moss chuckled. 

“You and your never-ending stomach,” he laughed fondly, leaning over and kissing Roy on the cheek. Roy grinned at him as they got out of the car and went into the house. 

There was a pile of letters sitting on the mat. Roy rifled through them. A couple were bills, but the rest were from random people. When he opened them up, he saw they were all from other people who all had an opinion on their relationship. Three of them were negative. He barely read them before he screwed them up and threw them straight into the kitchen bin before Moss could get his hands on them. He didn’t want him worrying about them. 

“So,” he said once he’d grabbed some snacks and they were both sitting on the sofa. “You wanna move in together?” 

“I mean, I’ve been thinking about it,” Moss said, biting his lip. He leaned forward towards his boyfriend. “Journalists have been camping outside mum’s house, and it’s not fair on her. Plus…” He paused, smiling. “I like it when I’m here.” 

“You don’t think it’ll be too… different for you?” Roy asked. Moss made a small, noncommittal noise. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “The last time I moved house I was eight years old. That turned out fine, I suppose.” 

“I didn’t know you’d moved?” 

“Yes. We used to live in the suburbs but then…” he stopped, shrugging again. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, that was okay, so surely this change will be ever better.” 

“That’s… a lovely way to look at it,” Roy said, smiling at his boyfriend. He reached forward, resting his hand on Moss’ cheek and pulling him into a kiss. “And yes, I would love it if we moved in together.” 

Moss smiled widely at him, leaning forward and pulling him into another kiss. 

“Mum’ll be pleased, at least,” he said. 

Roy laughed, and kissed Moss again. 

***

The next Saturday, they went round to Moss’ mum’s with a load of flatpack cardboard boxes, a roll of duct tape and the backseats of Roy’s car folded down to fetch all of Moss’ things. 

Moss’ mother seemed overjoyed at the fact that they were there doing this, as she was sitting downstairs enthusiastically taping boxes together for them. Roy was vaguely confused-- when he had moved out for college at sixteen, his mother had been distraught-- but kind of understood where she was coming from. 

To say that there was a lot of stuff in Moss’ bedroom was an understatement. It appeared to Roy as if his boyfriend had not thrown away anything for nearly thirty years. When he had walked into the room, his first thought had been that it was an absolute tip. There were things everywhere, stacked up in corners, shoved in nooks and crannies, balanced precariously on unstable-looking piles of books. Roy couldn’t understand it: when they were at work, Moss always had everything so perfect. He turned and stared at his boyfriend (who was smiling nervously at him), raising his eyebrows. 

“I’ve been meaning to get round to cleaning it,” was all Moss had to offer. 

They found all sorts of things buried in there. Broken games consoles, old sweets wrappers, childrens’ clothes: you name it, they probably found it. By the time the room was looking to be some semblance of normal, they had filled nine big bin bags-- and even that had been a fight. 

You see, Moss didn’t want to throw anything away. Nothing. Not even an old yoghurt pot dated from 1998 that had mould growing in it that Roy was fairly sure constituted a health hazard. No matter how much pleading from his mother or Roy, if Moss set eyes on something then it was a long and arduous task to get him to give it up. Roy had just started throwing things that were clearly just rubbish or entirely useless into bin bags before Moss could see them, and it was a system that was working quite well. Moss would be sat in the corner, agonising over whether or not to keep a Magic Eight Ball that had had its liquid drained out years ago whilst Roy would be stealthily making his way through a huge pile of rubbish. 

When they were nearly done, Roy was halfway under Moss’ bed when he heard his boyfriend gasp softly. He nearly hit his head as he wriggled his way out, rolling over onto his back to see Moss sitting on the edge of the bed, a stack of photographs in his hand. He was staring down at them. 

“What is it?” Roy asked worriedly. Moss shook himself a little, looking down at his boyfriend. 

“Family pictures,” he said. Roy hauled himself up, coming over to sit next to his boyfriend, who handed him a couple of pictures. It was Moss as a toddler, his mother and his father. They were all smiling. “I almost forgot I had them. My dad wrote notes on the back of all of them. They’re what made me apply for my job.” He paused, looking over at his boyfriend with a dreamy look in his eyes. “And why I met you.” 

They both smiled at each other, and Roy put his arm around Moss’ shoulders.

“Do you miss him?” Roy asked quietly as he looked through the pictures. Moss made a small noise. 

“In a way,” he said. “I wish he would have been able to see what I’ve done, like with university and work and everything.” He paused, shrugging. “So yeah, I suppose I do miss him.” 

They were both quiet for a little while longer, staring down at the pictures. Then Moss sighed, putting the pictures down to his side and getting up, going over towards his wardrobe. 

Roy took it as a sign to drop the subject. 

***

“All done!” Roy said triumphantly as he put away the last thing from the last box. It was the next day, and the flat was now looking considerably more full. The spare room especially was full of stuff now. Moss smiled at his boyfriend, nodding. 

“Um, Roy?” he said, sounding nervous. Roy turned to him with a smile. “Can I ask you a favour?” 

“Sure,” Roy said. He came over and sat down next to Moss on their bed. 

“Could you drive me up to the graveyard later? I want to go and visit my dad.” 

“O-okay,” Roy stammered. Moss didn’t usually visit his dad’s grave unless it was the anniversary of his death. “Yeah, sure. When were you thinking?” 

“Just after lunch. Whenever, really, as long as it’s before dark.” 

They kissed quickly, and Moss lay back on the bed, sighing heavily as he stretched his arms out. “I finally moved out,” he whispered. 

Back at his old house, his mother was dancing around the living room in triumph. 

***

Later that day, Roy drove Moss up to the graveyard. It wasn’t too far, and Roy had stashed a few comics in the glove compartment of his car. He was assuming that Moss would be about half an hour or so, and he would wait in the car for him. The two times he’d taken him before, that had been what had happened.

It did start out like that. Moss kissed him quickly before getting out of the car and walking over the gravel car park towards the entrance of the graveyard. He was nearly there when he stopped dead in his tracks. Roy watched him worriedly from the window. He had been about to get out and go and ask him if he was okay, when Moss turned on his heel and rushed back to the car. He yanked the door open, holding his hand out to Roy. 

“Come with me,” was all he said. 

Roy followed his boyfriend through the graveyard, towards the back of it. It really was a beautiful graveyard, full of trees and flowers. Moss’ dad’s grave was tucked away in a private little corner, underneath a now empty-tree that Moss told him was a cherry blossom. There were golden orange leaves all over the floor, but they were dry and Moss lowered himself to sit in front of the onyx black gravestone. He patted the space next to him, and Roy sat hurriedly. 

“Hi, dad,” Moss said with a smile. “Told you I’d come again soon, didn’t I? I’ve got loads to tell you.” He paused. Roy watched him, a little nervous but also with a strange feeling growing in his stomach. “I came out to mum! She already kind of knew, though, so it wasn’t very dramatic. And… well, I’m dating Roy now! I brought him with me.” Moss looked over at his boyfriend. Roy raised his hand a little, feeling awkward. “Mum likes him too. We moved in together yesterday.” Moss sighed heavily, leaning forward a bit. “I really wish you could have met him. I maintain you would have got on great. Mum says she thought you’d be too protective, but I think you would have been okay, in the end.” Moss chuckled. “I love Roy more than almost anything in the world, and it would have meant everything to me if you could have met him. He’s sweet and funny and kind and loving and… just everything I could ever want in someone.” He turned to Roy with a loving smile. “He’s perfect.” 

Roy smiled at him, leaning forward and kissing him gently. 

“I’m gonna leave you to it,” he whispered once they’d broken apart. “This is private. I’ll wait for you in the car?” 

“Okay,” Moss replied happily. They kissed once more and then Roy made his way back through the graveyard. 

As soon as he got to the car, and the doors were safely locked, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He bent his head low, putting his hand over his eyes and allowing the tears to flow. What he had just seen was so raw, so emotional… How long had Moss been visiting his father’s grave in this way? Twenty, twenty-five years? The thought of an eleven year-old Moss, sitting cross-legged in front of his father’s grave in his school uniform, only made him cry more. 

As soon as he’d gathered himself together and mostly stopped crying, the first thing he did was call his parents and tell them he loved them.

Chapter Text

It was eleven at night when Roy got the phone call. 

Moss had gone to his mum’s that night for dinner. He had invited Roy along with him, but Roy had told him that he needed some time just him and his mum and so had declined to come. Moss had completely understood, and was going to walk, but Roy stopped, telling him he’d drop him off. 

“And make sure to get a cab home!” he called after his boyfriend as he walked up the path to his mum’s. 

In all truthfulness, Roy had gone home, eaten some leftovers from the night before and had fallen asleep in front of the telly all by about 8:30. He was getting old. When he was in his twenties, he could stay up all night gaming, sleep for an hour, maybe two, and then go to work like nothing had happened. Now, any less than seven hours a night and he was basically a zombie. 

Thank God he left his phone ringer on, or he would have missed the call. His ringtone blaring out woke him with a start. He groaned, running a hand down his face as he forced himself to sit up a little. He grabbed his phone and squinted at it. Ugh. Private number. Shrugging, he clicked answer and held it to his ear. 

“‘Lo?” he murmured. 

“Uh, hi, am I speaking to Mr Roy Trenneman?” 

Uh oh. This sounded official. He sat up more, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and muting the telly. 

“Yeah, speaking,” he said. “Who is this?” 

“Now I don’t want to alarm you,” the person said. Too bad, I’m alarmed now, Roy thought as he felt a jolt of worry in his stomach. “But I’m calling about Maurice Moss? I believe you’re his emergency contact?” 

Yep, that did. Roy jumped up from the sofa for no good reason, standing in the middle of the living room. He put his hand to his forehead, his breathing starting to speed up a little. 

“Oh my God, is he okay?” he babbled. “What happened? Which hospital is he at?” 

“St George’s,” the person replied. “He’s stable at the moment. Can you get here?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Roy said. He was already pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys. 

“We’ll tell you more when you get here.” 

Roy didn’t trust himself to drive. His hands were shaking so badly that he struggled to lock the front door, let alone operate heavy machinery. Before he left, he made sure to grab Moss’ favourite of all of his hoodies. His boyfriend was sure to be upset and uncomfortable, this would at least give him a bit of familiarity. 

He summoned a cab, and the cabbie looked concerned when he requested the hospital. About five minutes into the journey, the cabbie looked at him in the mirror and said, 

“You’re that CEO with the boyfriend!” 

“Yep,” Roy said distractedly, looking out the window at the traffic. Thank God it wasn’t too bad. 

“Where’s he, then?” 

Roy fixed the cabbie with a deadly look, and he seemed to get the message. He took him up to the very entrance of the hospital, and when Roy tried to pay him he shook his head. 

“Hope your boyfriend’s alright,” he said, pushing the money back at Roy. “You two are admirable.” 

Roy gave him as much of a smile as he could muster before he scrambled out of the cab and into the hospital. 

He was greeted at the door by a young-ish looking nurse. He was a tired-looking fellow, dressed in scrubs and a pair of battered trainers, but he seemed to have an air of authority. 

“Mr Trenneman?” he said. Roy nodded. 

“Yeah,” he replied. He bit his lip, giving him a nervous look. “What happened?” 

“Come through,” the nurse said, leading him through into a small room just off of Resus. As they passed the Resus area, Roy tried to crane his neck to look for his boyfriend, but he couldn’t see anything. The little room, labelled “family room” , was mostly empty, with a few comfy sofas and some ugly paintings on the wall. There wasn’t anyone in there. The nurse shut the door behind them, and made Roy sit on the sofa. He sat next to him (at a respectful distance, of course). 

“Just before we start, I’m Adam,” the nurse said. “And I’ll be honest, we don’t really know what happened, not fully. When the police--” 

“The police !?” Roy exclaimed before he could stop himself. Adam nodded a little sadly. 

“From what we can gather, your partner got jumped on his way home. We don’t know how long they beat him for, but they only stopped because a sixteen year-old from the house next to where the incident occurred happened to hear the commotion and spooked the assailants.” 

“Did they catch them?” Roy asked. His voice was full of anger. “The people who did it?” 

“They ran off before the police arrived,” Adam explained. “But the girl managed to get a decent look at them. She’s giving a statement down at the police station now.” 

“And Moss?” Roy said anxiously. 

“As I said on the phone, he’s in a stable condition,” Adam said. “We’ve given him some painkillers to try and get him comfortable, but he’s refusing to be examined. Barely said a word since he got here.” 

“He’s on the spectrum,” Roy replied quickly. “It’s bright in here, and he’s scared. Let me talk to him, he should calm down a little.” 

“He’s quite bruised up,” Adam said. He looked down at his notes for a moment. “The paramedics said he was only just regaining consciousness when they got there, and he’s still quite woozy. Just be aware of that, okay?” 

Roy nodded. Adam nodded as well, standing and leading Roy out of the room. As they headed through resus, Roy was trying to sort through his swirling feelings, but the predominant thought in his head was that he was going to have to stay calm for Moss. He knew Moss would be in full panic mode at the moment, and he didn’t blame him at all, but him being calm would help reassure his boyfriend. He took a deep breath as they approached a bay. 

“He’s just in here,” Adam said, his voice quiet. Roy nodded, Adam held the curtain back and in he went. 

The first thing he noticed was the police officer sitting on a chair in the corner of the bay. He raised his hand in greeting to Roy. Roy did the same back before turning his gaze to the bed. 

Moss was curled up on his side, facing away from the officer. Roy crept over, kneeling down by the side of the bed. He could barely contain his gasp.

Moss’ face was covered in blood and bruises. One eye had swollen up completely, and both his lip and his nose were busted. Part of his hair was matted together with blood. His eyes were closed, his glasses on the side table. He still had his shirt on, but judging by the state of his face, Roy guessed that his torso didn’t look much better. One of his fingers was at an awkward, painful-looking angle. All in all, everything looked incredibly uncomfortable, to put it lightly. 

“Hey, baby,” Roy murmured, careful to keep his voice as low as possible. Slowly, Moss’ non-bruised eye began to open. As soon as it clicked in his brain that it was Roy in front of him, he kneeled up on the bed and reached forward, grabbing his boyfriend by the shoulders. 

“They’re going to get you!” he shouted. Roy was so shocked that he froze, unsure of what to do. His heart was hammering. “They’re going to come and find you and kill you! You need to get out!” 

That snapped Roy into action. He reached forward, gently lowering Moss’ arms from his shoulders and taking his hands into his own. 

“Sweetheart, you’re in the hospital,” he said softly. “They’re not here. You’re safe. I’m safe.” 

“We’re safe?” Moss asked. He slumped a little. Roy nodded. “Roy, my head hurts.” 

“Lie down, son,” the police officer said, getting up and helping Roy lie him back down. As Roy did so, his hand brushed a weird sticky spot just above his boyfriend’s hip. 

When he looked down at his fingers, they were smeared with blood. 

“Oh my God, he’s bleeding,” Roy blurted in a panic to the officer. The man looked at him. 

“Where?” 

“Here, just above his hip, look,” he said. The officer came around and sure enough, there was a very slowly-growing bloodstain on Moss’ checked shirt. The officer told Roy to stay with him, and then rushed off. Roy knelt down so he was face-to-face with his boyfriend, reaching up and gently running his hand through Moss’ hair. “You’re gonna be alright, baby,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. I’m here.” 

“Everything hurts ,” Moss whispered miserably.

“I know, sweetheart.” 

“I feel sick.”

“You’ve probably got a concussion.” 

“I want to go to sleep.” 

“You can’t, not just yet,” Roy said, his tone gentle. He smiled as reassuringly as he could, still fussing with his boyfriend’s hair. “See what the doctors say, yeah?” 

At that moment, a few doctors appeared in the cubicle. Apparently the painkillers they had given Moss were so effective that they were stopping the pain from a very minor stab wound in his side, which had started bleeding a little again and soaking through the preliminary dressings the paramedics had applied. With the help of some gas and air and Roy holding Moss’ uninjured hand, the doctors placed a couple of temporary stitches to stop the bleeding. After they left for a little while longer (during which Moss was sick into a small cardboard basin) before just one of them returned. 

“Hi, I’m Dr Sophia, I’ll be looking after you tonight,” she said, smiling at them. “How are you feeling, Moss?” 

“Tired,” Moss muttered. “Sore. Still sick.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry darling,” Sophia said, and Roy couldn’t help but notice that she actually sounded sincere. “I know this is pretty rubbish, isn’t it? I’m afraid I’m here to probably make you more miserable, because I need to check you over, see what needs scanning and what doesn’t. Is that alright?” 

“I suppose it has to be,” Moss grumbled, shifting further onto his side. As he did so, he winced a little, letting out a hiss of pain. Roy made a small noise, shaking his head at him. 

“Just stay still, love,” he said. “It will end.” 

“I’d listen to your boyfriend,” Dr Sophia commented as she pulled a pair of gloves on. Moss shot her an angry glare, pouting as he turned back to look at Roy. She came around and sat down next to Roy. “Right, I’ll leave you alone for now, just need to ask you some questions. That okay?” 

Moss shot Roy a pleading look. Roy made an ah noise, nodding at him. 

“Not feeling like talking?” Moss shook his head. 

“That’s fine,” Dr Sophia said with a smile. “Just point when I ask you things, okay? So, where is the worst pain?” Moss pointed to his chest and abdomen. “How would you rate that from one to ten, one being no pain and ten being the worst pain you’ve ever felt?” Moss paused for a moment, and then held up seven fingers. She took a note on her clipboard. “Okay. Have you got a headache?” A nod. “Dizziness?” Another nod. “Do you know where you are?” 

“Hospital,” Moss whispered. “I’m not sure which one.” 

“You’re in St George’s,” Dr Sophia explained, her voice quiet and kindly. “Do you remember what happened?” 

Moss began trembling at that. He squeezed Roy’s hand tighter, closing his eyes and pursing his lips together. 

“Yep,” he said quickly. 

“Are you alright?” she asked, looking concerned. Moss shook his head. 

“Feel sick,” he whispered. Reaching over, the doctor grabbed a sick basin and handed it to him. They waited for a little while, until Moss looked less like he was about to throw up everywhere, and then Dr Sophia continued with her questions. 

“Can I ask you to take off your shirt? I want to have a look at the bruising.” 

Moss nodded. He slowly sat up, undoing his shirt buttons with trembling fingers. He slipped it off, revealing the extent of bruising to his abdomen. 

All along his ribs were bruises, all blue and purple. There were a couple that seemed to be in the shape of a boot print. They were all over his abdomen too, so much that you could hardly see normal skin for bruises. Roy clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to say anything. The doctor nodded, looking over these bruises before reaching out and gently feeling along his ribs. When she hit a spot under his left rib, he made a pained noise, his hand shooting to the sore area. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, an apologetic look on her face. She continued to feel along his abdomen until she seemed satisfied, sitting back and writing on her clipboard again. Roy helped his boyfriend back into his shirt, and as an afterthought grabbed the hoodie out of his bag, handing it to him. Moss smiled weakly, wrapping the hoodie around his shoulders. Then the doctor did a few other checks, making him follow her finger with her eyes and whatnot. “Okay, I think we need a CT of your abdomen, and we need an x-ray of your chest and your finger. We’ll take you down to x-ray straight away.” 

Roy nodded at her (at this point, Moss was lying back on his side, looking miserable), biting his lip and pausing for a moment. 

“Um, is there somewhere I can go to make a few phone calls?” he asked. Dr Sophia smiled at him, nodding. 

“Yes, the family room is always open and available.” 

With that, she turned and left the cubicle. Roy looked around the cubicle, and jumped when he saw that the police officer had returned, sitting silently in his corner with his arms folded over his chest. He got up from his chair, kneeling down again to look at Moss. He rested his hand on his boyfriend’s lesser-bruised cheek. 

“I’m just gonna nip out to make a couple phone calls,” he whispered. Moss shook his head, his unbruised eye filling with tears. 

“Please don’t go,” he croaked out. Roy gave him a sympathetic look, running a thumb along his temple. 

“I’ll be ten minutes, fifteen maximum,” he said. “I’ll get your mum here, yeah?” 

“I don’t want to worry her,” Moss replied quickly. Roy chuckled softly. 

“She’ll always be worried about you, sweetheart. I’ll call her, you’ll feel better once she’s here.” 

Moss nodded, yawning. He winced as he did so, putting his hand to his ribs. Roy smiled a little sadly, leaning forward and giving Moss a quick kiss before leaving the cubicle and heading for the family room. 

Before it had been empty, but now there were two people sitting in the far corner. One of them was on her phone, whilst the man by her side was twiddling his thumbs and looking worriedly at the door. Roy gave them an awkward smile before heading to the furthest corner from them, getting his phone out and opening Friendface. Good, Jen was online. He had thought she would be. Taking a deep breath, he sat down heavily on one of the sofas, dialled her number and held the phone to his ear. 

The clock had just hit midnight. 

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Jen grumbled when she picked up. She was clearly pretending to have just woken up or something. Roy rolled his eyes. “I was asleep.” 

“Bullshit, Jen,” Roy said. He heard her make an offended noise, but he was honestly too tired and worried to care. “Look, Moss and I aren’t gonna be in tomorrow.” 

“Roy, I don’t know what you two are planning to do, but--” 

“Moss is in the hospital.”

That shut her up. She gasped, and there was a long pause. 

“Oh my God,” she murmured after a while. “What happened?” 

“He got beat up on the way home from his mum’s,” Roy said. He rubbed his hand along his face, sniffing back tears. “Jumped. Don’t think anything got nicked, so I think it was a targeted thing.” 

“Is he okay?” 

“Hell of a lot of bruises. He’s going in for an x-ray and a CT now.” 

“Oh my God,” Jen said again. “Well, take as much time as you need off. Call me when you know any more?” 

“Yeah, of course. Bye.” 

He hung up with a sigh, scrolling through his contact list until he got to Moss’ mum. God, this was going to be an awful phone call. He was almost wishing that she didn’t pick up. Of course, she did. 

“It’s very late,” she said. Unlike Jen, she really did sound as if he’d just woken her up. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” he replied. He paused, taking a moment to think about what to say. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this, but… Moss got attacked. He’s in the hospital. St George’s.” 

“Is he awake?” she asked anxiously. He could tell she was holding back tears. 

“Yeah, I’ve been sat with him. He’s woozy but awake. Going off for an x-ray and CT soon.” 

“I’ll get there as soon as I can,” she said hurriedly. Before Roy could say anything else, she had hung up on him. He could only imagine the state of panic she was in at the moment. Sighing, he pocketed his phone, and was about to get up and go back to Moss when he realised that he just… needed a moment to himself. Leaning back against the sofa cushions, he put his hand over his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

Now he couldn’t see the outside world, the barriers were down and the tears started to flow. God, this was all his fault. If he’d agreed to come along, if he hadn’t let Moss persuade him into letting him take a cab home, if he’d taken those email threats seriously… If he’d been there, he could have protected him, he could have stopped this from happening, it should have been me… 

“Mate? You alright?” 

Not even bothering to wipe his eyes, he looked up hurriedly. The other two people in the room had moved over to sit next to him, one either side of him. Now he could see them up close he could tell that they were brother and sister, their features far too similar for them to be anything but. He opened his mouth to speak, but the lump in his throat was too big. He shut his mouth, lip wobbling as he shook his head. He quickly wiped away a tear as it fell with his sleeve. The woman made a sympathetic noise, moving a little closer and putting her arm around his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “What happened?” 

“My partner,” Roy choked out. “He…” 

He couldn’t get any further, shaking his head and looking down at his lap. He took a moment, taking a deep breath. “He got attacked. Sorry, I’m just a bit…” 

“Understandable,” the guy said. 

“I should have been there!” Roy blurted before he could stop himself. “Maybe if I’d been there, then--” 

“You can’t blame yourself,” the woman said, cutting him off. “If you’d been there, then you’d probably be in the same state as your partner and that wouldn’t do anyone any favours.” 

“Are you saying that my boyfriend is collateral damage?” Roy asked, his anger starting to rise. The man shook his head, putting his hand on Roy’s shoulder. 

“What my idiot sister is trying to say,” he said with a small glare at his sister. “Is that it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your partner’s fault, either. Some people are just arseholes.” 

“Don’t I know it?” he said jokingly. He wiped his eyes, looking between the two of them and smiling. “Thank you. I feel much better.” 

“It’s no problem,” the woman said with a smile. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?” 

“Our dingbat of a father decided he wanted soup from the top cupboard,” the guy said with an eye roll. 

“Which he can’t reach,” his sister added. 

“We’re looking at a potentially broken hip, but hopefully it’s just a very bad bruise.” 

“Oh I’m sorry, that’s awful,” Roy said, but the siblings laughed and shook their heads at him. 

“He’ll be alright,” the woman replied. She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly before taking her arm from around him. “I hope your partner is okay.” 

“Look after yourself,” her brother said. They both smiled at him before moving away back over to their original sofa. Roy took a couple more minutes to himself before he got up. He flashed them both a smile before taking a deep breath and going back out into resus to go back to his boyfriend. 

Once again Moss was curled on his side when he entered the cubicle, staring at the wall with a blank look in his eyes. It was not the blank look he often had whilst he was contemplating something particularly difficult, but a different, strange blank look, an almost haunted blank look. It made Roy feel a little disconcerted. He sat down on the seat next to the bed, putting his hand down, palm-up, on the mattress. Slowly, Moss took it in his own. Roy gave him a small smile. 

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t smile back. 

One by one, tests came and went. Moss’ mother showed up whilst her son was getting x-rayed. Roy had been right: once he saw his mum, Moss became a little more relaxed, beginning to talk a little more and starting to reach out for more comfort. This was especially true after the CT scan, which Moss described as “claustrophobic and vaguely terrifying” . After the scans were done after nearly three hours, Moss was given some more painkillers (the ones he had been given originally had worn off a while ago) and put on a drip to get his hydration levels back up. Once the painkillers kicked in he seemed more comfortable, and was sat up in bed chatting to Roy and his mother when Dr Sophia returned. 

“Knock knock!” she said jokingly as she stuck her head around the curtain. Moss gave her a weak smile as she came in. “I must say, you’re looking a bit better.” 

“I’m feeling it,” Moss replied. Dr Sophia smiled at him before clearing her throat and taking her clipboard from under her arm. “Right, good news or bad news first?” 

“Good news,” Roy said quickly. She chuckled at him. 

“Thought you’d say that. So, all the scans and everything haven’t shown anything that is really a huge concern at the moment, which I have to be honest is a miracle considering all the bruising to the abdomen. Things could have been considerably worse.” 

“And the bad news?” Moss’ mum asked apprehensively. The doctor sighed, turning to fully face Moss. 

“You are going to have to stay in for a few days,” she replied. The three of them looked at her in confusion. 

“What?” Moss said. 

“I thought you said there was nothing of massive concern,” Roy said. 

“For now,” Dr Sophia repeated. She turned the clipboard towards them, showing them the x-ray pictures. “There’s a few broken ribs, but luckily nothing splintered so those should be alright. You’ve also fractured your finger but once we strap it up, that should heal fine. But what we’re worried about…” she moved the x-ray pictures out of the way to show the CT scan. She pointed to some spot on the scan, and all three of them nodded despite the fact they had no idea what she was pointing to. “The CT scan showed some bruising to the spleen. Now it doesn’t look like a severe bruise, so no surgery, but it is something we like to monitor to make sure it doesn’t get worse. IV fluids, bed rest and some TLC for the next few days.” 

“So I’ll have to stay in overnight?” Moss asked quietly. Dr Sophia nodded a little sadly. 

“I know it’s not ideal, but it really is the best thing at the moment.” 

“Roy, I don’t want to stay in overnight,” he said, turning to his boyfriend. Roy gave him a sad smile, rubbing a gentle circle into Moss’ hand with the pad of his thumb. 

“I know, sweetheart, but it has to be done,” he said.

“Visiting hours are eight ‘till eight,” Dr Sophia chipped in. 

“I’ll be here that whole time,” Roy said, turning back to Moss. Moss bit his lip. “And you’ll have your phone, if you want to talk to me all you have to do is text.” 

“What if it’s the middle of the night?” Moss asked nervously. 

“Then I’ll wake up for you. You know I sleep lightly anyway.” 

It took a moment, but Moss nodded a little. Dr Sophia smiled at them. 

“We’ll move you up onto a ward in a minute, get you a bit more comfortable.” She turned to Roy. “Will someone be able to pick up some stuff for him in the morning? Four or five days’ worth should be enough.” 

“I can go now,” Roy said, moving to get up from his seat. “Need to fetch the car anyway.” 

“Don’t go,” Moss said desperately, reaching out for Roy. The Irishman knelt back down next to him, resting a gentle hand on his boyfriend’s least-bruised cheek. 

“I won’t be long,” he whispered. Moss shook his head at him. “I won’t, half an hour, max.” 

“They said they were going to wait for you at the house,” Moss said. 

“What, the people that attacked you?” 

“They said that once they were finished with me, they were going to go to the house and kill you, and if you weren’t there then they were going to wait until you were.” 

“Baby, I’m perfectly safe,” Roy said, reaching up and stroking his boyfriend’s hair. 

“I’ll get my partner to escort him home, if you want,” the officer in the corner piped up. They all jumped, having entirely forgotten that he was there. 

“Are you sure?” Roy asked. The officer shrugged. 

“Can’t hurt. We’re both here until we get called off, anyway.” 

“Where is your mate?” 

“In the car. We’re switching in an hour anyway, won’t hurt for him to drop you off home.” 

“Thanks,” Roy said with a small smile. The officer gave him a thumbs-up, before talking into his radio. After a moment of so, he looked at Roy and nodded at him. 

“I’ll take you up to the car,” he said. 

As they walked away, Roy couldn’t help but worry about how Moss was going to do without him.

Chapter Text

The whole way back home Roy was worrying about Moss. He couldn’t get that blank look out of his head. What had those thugs done to him? What had they said to him whilst they had been beating him up? If he was being honest, he was just so thankful for this girl who had heard what was happening and spooked the attackers, or Lord knows what would have happened. Would they have killed him? Instead of a call to the hospital, would Roy have been getting a call to the morgue? He didn’t want to think about it, but it was all that seemed to be in his head. 

“I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now, mate,” the police officer said, glancing over at Roy as they drove through London. It was so quiet in the middle of the night, barely any cars on the road. Roy nodded, not taking his gaze from where he was watching the streetlights out of the window. “I mean, if that was my wife…” 

“He’ll be alright,” Roy said quietly. “As long as someone gets the twats that did it.” 

“We have people on it,” the officer replied. “Especially since one of them was apparently carrying a blade. Serious concern.” 

“We did get some emails with some threats a couple of weeks back,” Roy said. He looked away from the window and over to the officer. “Would those help?” 

“Yeah, that could be quite useful,” the officer said. They both gave each other a kind of understanding look as the car pulled into the street. Sure enough, there was nobody in front of the house. Even so, the officer got out first and checked the perimeter of the house before he would allow Roy to get out of the car. 

“Thank you,” Roy said as he stood at the front door. The officer smiled at him, nodding before turning and going back to his car. Roy watched until the car had left before turning and going into the house. 

God, even though Moss had only been living with him for a month, the flat now felt empty without him. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was nearly four in the morning. Normally at this time he and Moss would be curled up in bed together, Moss quietly and sweetly snoring in his ear. Instead, he was standing in the middle of the kitchen, alone, having to pack his boyfriend a bag because he was in the bloody hospital! 

This was just… the worst night in the world. The most awful night ever. There were many ways that Roy could think of that would have made it worse, but it was still pretty terrible. He sighed heavily, putting his head into his hands for a moment. He looked up just as a pair of car headlights passed in front of the window. 

Moss’ words rang through his head. “They were going to go to the house and kill you, and if you weren’t there then they were going to wait until you were.” What if he was right? What if that was really what was going to happen? 

No, he was just being paranoid. He shook his head, but still went over and peeked out of the curtains. Oh of course, it was just Brian from over the road coming home from his Wednesday early-morning romp that he thought his wife didn’t know about. Nothing sinister. Shaking his head again, he headed into the bedroom at the back of the flat. For once he was thankful for Moss’ bizarre organising system for his closet, as it allowed him to go in and grab everything he needed very quickly. It wasn’t much, anyway: just a couple of pairs of pyjamas and the one casual outfit his boyfriend owned. He put it in Moss’ backpack. It was an old thing, it really was, all ratty up close with straps half-falling off and scuffs all along the bottom of it, but Moss insisted that it was fine and so he still had it. Roy never had enough energy to argue with him about it and so often just left it. 

He went back into the kitchen, meaning to go and get his car keys. However, something about standing alone in the dark got to him and he found himself braced against the kitchen side, struggling to catch his breath as tears started to roll down his cheeks. He screwed his eyes shut, breathing shallowly as he looked down towards the floor. Was he going to be able to do this? Stay calm and together for his boyfriend? 

Although this was bad for him, it had to be a lot worse for Moss, Roy thought. His boyfriend had been alone and scared, being beaten up in a dark street. He took a deep breath, pushing himself back up from the side and opening his eyes. Yes. He could do this. For Moss. 

Grabbing the keys, he picked up the bag and headed out to the car. 

***

When he got back to the hospital, Moss had already been moved up to the ward. The nurse who had greeted him at first, Adam, offered to take him up there so he wouldn’t get lost. Roy agreed, just happy to have someone to talk to whilst he walked through the whitewashed walls of the hospital. 

As they got closer and closer to the ward, the hospital became more and more quiet. The lights were lower, the halls were all but empty, and Roy could swear he could hear a deep electrical hum as they walked towards the ward. Adam didn’t say much, but Roy could see him yawning out of the corner of his eye. 

“When do you get off?” he asked quietly. His voice echoed around the hall. 

“Seven this morning,” Adam replied with a smile. 

“Bet you can’t wait.” 

Adam chuckled, nodding. They went back to being quiet again after this, the only sound their shoes against the linoleum flooring. Eventually they reached the doors to a ward and Adam stopped them, pointing to the door. 

“Here we are,” he said. 

“Thanks mate,” Roy replied, nodding at him. Adam nodded back, and no words were spoken but a message seemed to be conveyed. With that the nurse turned and walked back down the corridor. Roy watched him go before opening the door to the ward and walking in. 

There were four beds down each side of the room. All of the curtains were drawn except the second bed from the door on the right, where Moss was sat. Once again he was curled up, but this time he was sat up a little more in bed. His mum was in the chair next to him. Roy cleared his throat as quietly as he could and raised his hand to her, walking over and setting the bag down by the bed. He could see now that Moss was asleep. 

“Hi,” Roy whispered. “Got the stuff.” 

“You’re a dear,” Moss’ mum whispered back, leaning over and kissing his cheek as he sat down in the chair next to her, closest to the bed. “He’s finally allowed to get some sleep, the poor pet. He was exhausted.” 

“Have the doctors been around again?” 

“Yes. Told him to sleep more upright and hold a pillow against his chest if he needs to cough.” 

Roy nodded, looking over to his boyfriend. Moss still didn’t look well, but he looked less worried now he was asleep. Gently, he reached out and slipped his hand into his boyfriend’s. Even in his sleep Moss took his boyfriend’s hand. Roy couldn’t help but smile at that. God he loved him. 

Moss slept for another hour and a half, until a nurse came around and gently shook him awake. They checked him over to make sure his breathing was still okay and his injuries hadn’t worsened before leaving him again. Roy helped his boyfriend change into some of the pyjamas he had brought with him and helped him lie back against the pillows. 

“Sit with me,” Moss whispered. Roy nodded, pulling his chair as close as he could to the bed and resting his head against Moss’ arm. He couldn’t help but notice that Moss’ broken finger had been taped up. A moment later Moss’ fingers were in his hair, messing with his curls. “Are you okay?” 

“Sweetheart, don’t worry about me,” Roy replied quietly, looking up at his boyfriend. “You’re the one in the hospital. I’m fine.” 

Moss made a small noise, and they were both quiet again. 

“I’m still tired,” he said. “And my head is all fuzzy.” 

“Is it still sore?” 

“Not really anymore. My ribs are, though.” 

Roy rubbed his boyfriend’s arm comfortingly, leaning his head back down against Moss. It wasn’t long before Moss fell asleep again, his sweet little snores giving him away. Roy waited for a moment before moving away, allowing Moss to be comfortable. 

The next two or three days passed surprisingly quickly. For the first day Roy sat there next to his boyfriend, holding his hand and talking to him in a low voice. For most of this day Moss slept, only waking up to eat (although he didn’t have much appetite) and to be checked over by the doctors. During the day when he got up to stretch his legs, Roy met the other people on the ward. It was a mixed ward, with all sorts of conditions and injuries. Across from Moss’ cubicle was an old woman with dementia who had a nasty-looking cut on her cheek. In the bed to the left of Moss’ was a young man recovering from an indeterminate surgery who had constant and noisy visitors. The other beds were taking by varying middle-aged people, including one woman on IV antibiotics for a cat bite to the finger (a fact both her and Roy found endlessly hilarious) and a guy who had been knocked out in his own kitchen by a falling bottle of balsamic vinegar (again, a fact Roy found rather amusing). 

Over the next couple of days, Moss had a few visitors. Roy obviously stayed all day until he was forced to leave at eight at night, and his mum usually came in from six until eight. Jen had popped in during her lunch break yesterday, bringing Moss a punnet of strawberries (his favourite fruit) for him to snack on. Morgan and Leanne had come later that afternoon bearing a gift of grapes from him. Moss was more awake as each day went on, his bruises fading from dark purple to a green-ish yellow colour. Even Richmond showed up. Unfortunately as he was wearing his goth attire and had sprung for some skull face paint, when he entered the ward the poor old dear looked up and screamed loudly. Moss and Roy jumped from where they had been having a quiet conversation between themselves. 

“Death! Death has come for me!” she screamed. 

After that, the mood was decidedly… stranger. Both Moss and Roy had thought it was rather funny, but equally morbid. Richmond had felt rather bad about it, apologising many, many times to the woman’s daughter who was visiting at the time. He had brought a basket of fruit with a Cradle of Filth album buried in the bottom, all tied up with a black satin bow. 

It was the fourth day in hospital when it happened. 

It was a Saturday, midday actually. Moss had just persuaded Roy to go and buy him chocolate-covered pretzels from the M&S downstairs. Roy had not been sitting down for more than five minutes, and Moss was just about to open the packet when the door creaked open. 

At first, both of them ignored it, thinking it was a visitor for someone else, as they weren’t expecting anyone for a couple of hours. Then the nurse came up and whispered something in Roy’s ear. Moss looked up from where he had been concentrating on the packet, confused. 

“There’s someone here to see you,” Roy said to him, a small smile on his face. 

“Who?” Moss asked. Roy just smiled and turned towards the door. 

Naturally curious, Moss turned to look too. In the doorway were two women, a mother and daughter pair. The mother he didn’t recognise, but the daughter he did. He definitely recognised her. 

And it brought everything flooding back. 

“Be safe, darling!” 

Moss smiled at his mum, waving to her as he began to walk down the road. Since he had convinced Roy not to pick him up-- he could tell his boyfriend was tired, he needed to get some sleep-- he was going to walk down to the main road from his mum’s and get a cab. It was already dark, even though it was only ten, and Moss wasn’t paying much attention. He knew these streets inside and out. He was nearly on the main road when he turned into this side street to get there quicker. There was only one streetlight, halfway down the street. 

He didn’t see the guys until they stepped out in front of him. 

Immediately Moss froze. There were four of them, all taller and more muscled than him. Classic skinhead types. Tattoos and vests and everything. Moss gulped, shrinking down as they loomed over him. 

“Hello, Maurice Moss,” one of them said, with a leering smile on his face. 

“We’ve been looking for you,” another said. 

“Why have you been ignoring our calls?” the original added. Moss could not find anything to say, only shrinking down further. 

The first blow came to the side of his head. It knocked the lights right out of him, making his head crack to the side and sending him sprawling onto the ground. He didn’t even think to protect himself, instead assuming the foetal position, his arms over his head and his knees drawn up to his chest to protect himself. 

After this the blows came thick and fast, hailing down on him. Fists, boots, elbows, even headbutts were used against him. They were screaming at him the whole time, horrible things, telling him he was disgusting, a freak of nature, someone who didn’t deserve to be alive. 

It wasn’t until they mentioned Roy that he started to pay attention. 

“We’re gonna get that faggot boyfriend of yours,” one of them panted as he kicked him hard in the ribs. Moss whimpered a little, but he was paying attention now. “We’re gonna kill you here and take you to your house--” 

“We know where you live,” one of the others jeered. 

“We’re gonna take your body back there and we’re gonna let your fag boyfriend find it and then we’re gonna kill him.” 

“And it won’t be quick,” another said as he pummelled his fists into Moss’ head. “It’ll be a long, drawn-out death. You’re getting off lightly, sunshine.” 

For Moss, that was it. They could do what they wanted to him, but they would not get to Roy. Not Roy. 

Uncurling a little, he kicked upwards at them. He caught one of them in the jaw, and relished a little in the grunt of pain that came from the man. When one of them went to punch him in the mouth, he clamped down on the skin with his teeth. At the same time, he tried to punch the others as the man he had bitten cried out in pain. This scuffle continued for a minute or two, until Moss let his attacker go. 

When one punched him in the chest and he heard a crack, he found his voice. 

“HELP!” he hollered as loudly as he could, twisting on the ground as he attempted to crawl away. One of the attackers grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, pulling him back and punching him in the nose. Again there was another crack as his head reeled backwards, and he could feel warm blood beginning to run down his top lip. He groaned in pain. His head was spinning, his vision beginning to tunnel and become black at the edges. “Please, somebody help!” 

The biggest guy of the group, clearly the ringleader, reached forward and grabbed Moss by the shirt, dragging him upright so his feet were dangling off the ground and pulling him close to his face. Moss could feel the man’s hot breath on his damaged cheek. He turned his head to the side, spitting out blood onto the floor. 

“You say another word,” the guy hissed. “Or anyone shows up, we will kill your bender boyfriend. We’ll go round there and kill him, and if he’s not there then we will wait for him and kill him then. Do you hear me?” 

Moss nodded, terrified. He clamped his mouth shut. 

“Hi, it’s so good to meet you,” Roy said, getting up from his chair and offering his hand to the women. They both shook it with smiles on their faces. “I honestly can’t tell you how grateful we are.” 

“It’s my daughter, really,” the mother said with a smile, putting her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “For once I’m thankful she wasn’t asleep!” 

The girl laughed a little, nodding. 

“Moss, aren’t you gonna say hello?” Roy asked, turning to his boyfriend. 

The guy kept Moss dangling above the ground, holding him in such a way that he couldn’t protect himself as the other three guys continued to punch, kick and spit on him. 

“Moss?”

Moss was sitting in the bed, staring at the girl. His breathing was shallow and he was completely frozen. 

He screwed his eyes shut, trying to force back a sob. 

“Sweetheart?” 

He could hear the attackers mocking him, calling him every slur under the sun.

“Is he okay?” the mother asked anxiously. 

Another blow landed on his abdomen, and pain shot through his belly. 

“Moss? Speak to me, baby,” Roy said, sounding worried. He reached forward and gently shook his boyfriend. 

The man who was holding him pulled his fist back, ready to punch him…

The daughter stepped forward, breaking away from her mother. 

“HEY!” 

“Um, hi?” she said nervously. 

The guy let go of Moss’ shirt, and Moss crumpled to the ground. He hit his head again and his vision immediately began to swim, his ears starting to ring. 

“I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m the one who found you.” 

The guys looked somewhere up the street, pausing for a mere second before turning on their heels and sprinting away, all the way down the street until they were gone. As Moss’ head spun, he became aware of someone coming towards him, a moment later a girl’s face appeared in his vision. He groaned, trying to roll onto his side.

“And, er, I just wanted to know…” 

“Are you alright?” 

That brought Moss back into the room. He took a deep, startling breath, and immediately began to clutch at the blankets. He was shaking as he muttered under his breath. 

“No, Roy, not Roy, please not Roy,” he was murmuring. 

“That’s what he was saying when I found him,” the girl said, glancing worriedly at Roy. 

As soon as she said that, Roy realised what was happening. 

A quick glance at Moss’ heart monitor told him his theory was correct. It was pinging fast, far too fast. Moss was still whispering under his breath. Roy reached forward, gripping his boyfriend’s shoulders as gently as possible in an attempt to focus his attention. It worked, kind of. Moss looked up at him, eyes wide and terrified. 

“Okay, look at me, love,” Roy said, careful to keep his voice low and calm. He reached forward and took his boyfriend’s hands in his. “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe. I am safe. No-one can get to us.” 

“Safe?” Moss whispered, his voice barely audible. As he said this a nurse appeared, having been alerted by the heart monitor. She looked worried. Roy didn’t even look up, giving his boyfriend a small smile. 

“Yeah, safe.” 

Moss nodded, and his heart rate began to come down. When the nurse realised that his heart rate had not been raised for a serious medical reason, she checked with Roy that he had the situation under control and promised to have the attending doctor discuss it with them when he did his rounds that night. When she went back to the nursing desk, the girl was standing awkwardly by the side. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said, biting her lip. “I-I didn’t mean to trigger anything.” 

“You didn’t mean to,” Roy said. Moss was curled up again on his side, staring at a spot on the far wall with that horrible blank look on his face Roy was starting to get eerily used to. “You couldn’t have known.” 

“We’ll visit another day,” the girl’s mother said with a small smile, coming forward and resting her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. She turned to Roy. “Thank you for letting us come and see him. We’ve been worried about how everything turned out.”

“Just thank you for spooking them,” Roy said, getting up and shaking her hand again. “I just… I don’t know what we’d have done without you. I’ll let you know what happens.” 

With that, the two women left, leaving Roy alone with Moss. 

For the next two days Moss hardly spoke. He would exchange a few words with the doctors when they asked him questions, or reply to Roy or his mother when they asked him simple questions, but his chatty, conversational side seemed to have disappeared entirely. On the sixth day in hospital, when the doctor came round to do his daily round, there was finally some good news. 

“Well, it looks like we can send you home,” the doctor said once he had finished checking Moss over. Roy grinned at his boyfriend. “Bed rest for the next two weeks, no exceptions. And you’ll have to book a checkup at your local GP in a fortnight, just to make sure your spleen is healing properly. How does all that sound?” 

“Okay,” Moss murmured in response, his face still mostly expressionless. 

“And no strenuous activity!” 

Moss was quiet the whole time whilst they were taking his IV out and finishing off all the paperwork that needed doing. Roy busied himself with collecting everything up and stuffing it into his bag. 

As they left the hospital, Roy knew that this whole affair was far from over.

Chapter Text

“Yeah… yep, okay… right. Well, thank you for calling and letting us know. Yeah. Okay, bye.” 

Roy clicked the hang up button, looking down at his phone for a moment before pocketing his phone. He turned back from where he had been standing in the doorway, looking over to where Moss was sitting in bed, looking at him expectantly. He gave him a small smile, clapping his hands against his legs. “They caught them,” is all he said. 

“They caught them?” Moss repeated. His voice was filled with disbelief. Roy nodded. He smiled as he came forward, sitting down next to his boyfriend. 

“They caught them. Found them hiding out by the gas works.” 

At the mention of the gas works, the two of them exchanged a knowing smile. Neither of them had ever quite forgotten that day and their first non-drunk (albeit somewhat forced) kiss together. Moss often said that it was one of the worst kisses he had ever given, but probably the one he was most grateful for. 

“So what now?” Moss asked. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his mug of squash, holding it in both his hands against his chest. Roy shrugged, taking a chocolate bar from his own little stash he had stored in his bedside cabinet. 

“They were already all wanted on drug charges,” he said as he tore the chocolate wrapper with his teeth. “S’pose what happened will just up the charges a bit.”

They both fell quiet. Moss had been on bed rest for a week and half now, and effectively so had Roy. Roy, lazy by nature, had taken to it like a duck to water. He could spend all day in one position, hardly moving except to fetch the two of them drinks or food, and be perfectly content. Moss, however, was not. He was used to being up and about and doing things. Now he wasn’t even allowed to get up to get himself food! Sure, he enjoyed spending more time with Roy (and the two of them had almost completed Lego Star Wars on the PS3 together) but he was getting restless. 

“Right!” Roy announced all of a sudden as he swallowed his last bite of chocolate, pulling Moss out of his thoughts. “Better go to the supermarket then.” 

He moved to leave, but Moss reached out and caught his hand before he could get far enough away. Roy suppressed a sigh, closing his eyes. He couldn’t turn back. If he turned back now he’d never get to the shops in time and they’d have to order takeaway for dinner again . As much as he loved a kebab, he wasn’t sure if he could stomach one for the fifth day in a row. 

“Don’t go,” Moss said, his voice small and quiet. Roy could feel him trembling. 

“Sweetheart, I need to go out and get food. I want to go before the shops get busy.” 

“Just order it online.” 

“You know they never get it right.” 

“Then take me with you!” 

“You’re on bed rest, you know you can’t come with me.” 

“Roy!” 

Ugh. That way that Moss said his name, his voice filled with fear and that slight breaking at the end of it, always got him. He turned back to Moss, kneeling on the edge of the bed. He took both of his boyfriend’s hands into his. 

“You’re perfectly safe,” he said, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible. “I’ll lock the door, and you’ve got your phone in case anything happens.” When Moss’ eyes widened, he hastily added, “which it won’t. Because you’re safe.” 

It took a moment, but Moss nodded. Roy smiled encouragingly at him, leaning over and giving him a quick kiss. After this he got up off the bed, grabbed his keys from the side and gave his boyfriend one last smile before leaving the room. A minute later, Moss heard the front door slam shut. 

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit. No, this wasn’t right. There was a strong feeling of apprehension and worry growing in the pit of his stomach. It didn’t matter that the police had caught the people who did it. Instinctively he knew that something was going to happen to Roy. What he wasn’t exactly sure, but something was going to happen. What if they hadn’t caught all of them? Surely there had to be other people involved with them? They would no doubt be angry about their mates getting arrested. They were probably baying for blood. God, he never should have let Roy leave the house. 

He needed to get up. His legs were killing him, and if he rushed then maybe he could beat Roy to the shops and meet him there. Yes, that would work. 

At least, he thought it would work until he actually got up. 

His legs were so weak from having barely been used that as soon as he tried to put any weight on them they almost collapsed beneath him. He just about caught himself on the edge of the bed, and sat down for a moment. He gathered his strength before getting back up again. 

He managed to stagger into the corridor before the pain in his chest and the throbbing in his head became too much. His legs turned to jelly and he found himself slumping against the wall, sliding down to the floor. He closed his eyes, hissing in pain as he put his hands to his ribs. God he was tired, so tired… He didn’t have the energy to drag himself up and back into the bedroom. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick nap here? Yeah, he’d be up and back in bed before Roy had even left the shop. Already he could feel his eyes slipping closed… 

“You fucking disgrace!” 

“You’re a fucking freak of nature, you disgusting little fucking faggot!” 

Fists coming down on him, skin bruising, ribs cracking… 

“We’re gonna kill your fag boyfriend.”

“HELP!” 

Hot breath on his face, body being pummelled with anger…

“If anyone comes, then we’ll wait for him and we’ll kill him.” 

“HEY!” 

A face. A voice. They run. 

They run to the house. Roy answers the door, thinking it is him, that he had just forgotten his keys again. He doesn’t have time to think. A knife appears. They sneer and jeer and smirk at him before kicking him whilst he’s down and leaving. 

Roy bleeds out, alone, before help can arrive. 

Blood. So much blood. Roy is lying in a puddle of it, it soaks his hands, his shirt, his eyes are wide, blank, unseeing, dead -- 

“Moss! Wake up!” 

Moss’ eyes flew open at the sound of Roy’s voice, high and raised and panicked. He seemed almost confused for a second, as if he didn’t realise nor understand that he was lying on the floor in the hallway, wedged between a cabinet and a bookshelf. Roy was kneeling next to him, both hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders. He looked worried, Moss couldn’t help but think. 

Soon that thought was pushed out by the overwhelming fear of what he had just seen. 

He sat up, reaching out for Roy with shaking hands. That image of his boyfriend, the love of his life, covered in blood with that cold blank expression permanently etched on his face flashed before his eyes and he couldn’t take it any longer. He flew at Roy as fast as his body would allow him, burying his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder and letting out a deep, guttural sob. That of course hurt his poor fractured ribs, which only made him want to cry harder. 

“Baby…” Roy murmured. He seemed to be at a loss for what to say as he tentatively wrapped his arms around the other man. 

“They had you,” Moss sobbed, his voice muffled by Roy’s t-shirt. “They told me what they were going to do and they did it, they did it! I knew they’d do it and I couldn’t do anything!” 

“Do what?” Roy asked. Moss didn’t respond, instead just shaking his head and beginning to cry harder. Then he made a pained noise. “Hang on, baby, do what?” 

“Kill you,” Moss eventually said after a lengthy pause, where Roy had sat himself down on the floor, Moss effectively in his lap as he held and attempted to comfort him. “They stabbed you and left you on our front doorstep to die. There was so much blood I, I…” 

He couldn’t go on, shaking his head and turning his head to the side to cough weakly. Roy shushed him gently, rubbing comforting circles into his boyfriend’s back. 

“They’re not here, sweetheart. It’s just me and you here. No one else.” 

They were both quiet for a little while longer, Moss crying into Roy's shoulder and Roy doing his best to hold back his own tears. 

“I love you,” the Irishman whispered fiercely. “Whilst I’m here nobody can ever hurt you again, okay? I won’t let them.” 

Moss, of course, was thinking along other lines, but decided not to voice anything. 

Neither of them knew quite how long they were both sitting there, but it was long enough for the ice cream Roy had in one of the bags to almost completely melt. Roy helped Moss back into bed and gave him some painkillers before going back into the kitchen to put away the shopping. 

He could still hear Moss sniffling away to himself in the bedroom. It was breaking his heart. This had happened every time he’d left the house since they had got back from the hospital. He always came back to find Moss curled up in the corridor, thrashing about and muttering under his breath in his sleep. The first time it had happened Roy had thought he’d been having a seizure. He’d been terrified, about to call the emergency services when, thank God, he had woken up.

Moss wouldn’t eat tonight, not now. He’d spend the whole night complaining of nausea and a headache before finally dropping off at around midnight. God it was a nightmare, an actual nightmare. In a way, Roy couldn’t wait until they were both back at work. At least then there would be something to keep both of their minds off of everything. 

Idly, he got his phone out and clicked it on. Seventeen emails, all from his company one, a few texts from his mother and a reminder to call someone to look at the fridge. He ignored the boring things and opened the texts from his mother. 

Hi baby, how is everything going? Have they caught them yet?? Xx

Call me when you see this xx

Also your dad wants to know what you want for Christmas xx

Roy chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He leaned against the kitchen side, dialling his mother’s number and holding the phone to his ear. 

“Hiya, mum,” he said when she picked up, reaching into one of the bags for a packet of crisps. 

“Hi, baby,” she replied, sounding anxious. “So?” 

“Yeah, they caught them,” he said. She made a small noise before falling quiet again. “But…” He glanced towards the bedroom, lowering his voice. “Another incident.” 

“Again?” she said sympathetically. 

“Ye-up. Went out to get the shopping, came back and… yeah.” 

“Same thing?” 

“It always is. He’s insistent he’s fine, but…” 

“Bring it up at the checkup,” his mother insisted. He sighed inwardly. 

“He won’t let me.” 

“Just say it to the doctor when you’re there, sweetie. He might be annoyed at you but you know it’s for the best.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Roy replied. He paused for a moment, sighing. “Anyway, why does Dad want to know about Christmas? It’s still October. It hasn’t even been Halloween yet.” 

“Yes, but you boys are coming here!” she said. Now she sounded all happy and joyful. Roy smiled as he took another mouthful of crisps. “We’re not limited by what we can send by post anymore!” 

“Mam, we’re both grown men,” he replied, holding the phone with his shoulder as he tried to dig the list of things Moss had written for him to ask out of the cupboard. “I’ll let you pick. Look, Moss has--” 

“Have you asked her the questions yet?” Moss’ voice came from the other room. Roy chuckled to himself.

“I’m asking her now, love!” he called back. “Yeah, Moss has some questions about Christmas Day at ours?” 

“Fire away,” she replied. 

“How many people are gonna be there?” 

“Well all of your sisters are coming, and they’re all bringing their husbands and the kids, so including you boys… seventeen?” 

“Where are we all gonna sit?” 

“Why does Moss need to know that?” 

“No, that’s a question from me, mum. There’s no way we’ll all fit in the dining room.” 

“We’ll stretch out into the living room. You Da is going to get the old foldaway tables out of the loft.” 

Roy envisioned this going spectacularly badly, but elected not to say anything.

“Okay, er… right, is the phone signal reliable? He promised his mum he’d call her.” 

“Yeah, the phone signal is good.” 

“Good. If he doesn’t know what’s going on in church will he get in trouble?” 

His mother chuckled. 

“No, of course he won’t.” 

“Last one, how loud is everything gonna be?” 

“We’ll keep it as quiet as possible, just like always.” 

“Alright, good,” Roy said with a smile. “I’ll call you next week?” 

“Sounds good, sweetie. Love you.” 

“Love you too, mum. Bye.” 

He pocketed his phone, and finished up packing the shopping away. Once he’d done that, he fetched drinks from the fridge and headed back into the bedroom. 

“Seventeen people, good phone service, don’t worry about church, yes it is quiet,” he sat as he sat down on the bed again. Moss mumbled something in reply, curled up facing the wall. Roy leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. “I got pasta for dinner.” 

“Not hungry,” was the mumbled reply. At this the Irishman did his best not to show his annoyance on his face. He did love Moss, but the man needed to eat properly if he wanted to heal faster. 

“Can you at least try to eat some?” he asked coaxingly. “For me?” 

Moss turned onto his side to look at him, an annoyed look plastered on his face. 

“If I’ll eat, I’ll throw up,” he said. “Do you want me to throw up?” 

Roy took that as a signal to shut his mouth. 

***

Four days later it was time for the doctor’s check-up, meaning Moss could finally leave the house. 

There had been two more Incidents (as Roy called them) since: once when Roy went out to post a letter, and another when he had been stuck in the airing cupboard fiddling around with the hot water tank and so had not heard Moss calling for him. Both had ended in what Roy thought (but wasn’t sure) were panic attacks. No, it hadn’t been pleasant. 

But he was trying not to think about that now. He was concentrating more on keeping Moss calm in the waiting room. 

“It’ll be fine,” he whispered, softly squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. Moss nodded a little as he glanced nervously around the room. “Love, seriously. I promise.” 

“How do you know that?” Moss hissed back. 

“Because most of your bruises are gone, and that cut on your side is very nearly healed.” 

“Oh.” 

They were both quiet again, until the doctor came out and called Moss’ name. Roy helped his boyfriend up, and held his hand as they walked over to the doctor. When he noticed a couple of people staring at them, the Irishman sent them such a glare that they immediately looked away. 

“Good morning,” the doctor said once they had made their way in and sat down. Moss smiled weakly at him. “How have you been, Moss?” 

“Okay,” Moss replied. 

“Much pain?” 

“A bit, in my ribs. And the cut on my hip is painful if I catch it on something.” 

“Can I have a look?” 

Moss nodded, untucking his shirt and peeling the waistband of his trousers back to show the dressing. The doctor reached forward, peeling back the dressing. There was some light bruising still around the area, but the cut had scabbed over now. Roy winced when he looked at it, but the doctor seemed like it was okay. He nodded, changing the dressing quickly before leaning back and letting Moss sort himself out. 

“How about your ribs?” the doctor asked, typing away on his computer. Moss made a small noise, tilting his head to the side. 

“They’re okay, I suppose,” he said. “A bit sore but okay.” 

“Well, another one to three weeks and they should be okay,” the doctor replied. He did one last click on his computer, and turned to the two of them with a strange compassionate look on his face. “But how are you? Mentally, I mean? Anything that’s worrying you?” 

“No,” Moss said quickly. 

“Actually I’ve noticed that he’s very reluctant to be alone,” Roy chipped in before Moss could stop him. His boyfriend turned to him, glaring at him. 

“Roy,” he murmured, his tone low. 

“I’m sorry, love, but it’s true,” Roy said before turning back to the doctor. “And nightmares too.” 

“Have you suffered from any panic attacks?” the doctor asked. He leaned forward slightly. Moss shrugged and sat back in his chair. Roy cleared his throat, realising that he was basically going to have to take over from here. 

“I think he had one the other day,” he said. “I’d left the room and I came back and he was just… yeah.” 

“Any physical symptoms? Headaches, nausea, increased heart rate?” 

“Yeah, he was complaining about nausea the other day.” 

The doctor nodded his head, taking a moment to check something on his computer before turning back to them. 

“Well, it sounds a bit to me like something called acute stress reaction,” he said. “We sometimes see it after these sort of traumatic events. We do need to deal with it, though, because if it isn’t dealt with it can lead to PTSD, which will be much worse for you, okay?” 

“Do I have to go to therapy?” Moss asked, his voice quiet. The doctor shook his head. 

“We like to try and avoid therapy if we can, but we encourage you to talk to your family and friends in order to help you process what happened.” 

Moss nodded, glancing at his boyfriend. “I’m going to write you a prescription for an antidepressant called sertraline, just because of the physical symptoms you’ve described. It’s a very common anti-anxiety medication but it can take about two weeks to get used to. During that time you might feel more anxious. It’s also been reported that some people experience suicidal thoughts.” Both Moss’ and Roy’s eyes widened at this, and they looked at each other in alarm. “But if you experience these, stop taking the medication straight away and call us, okay? Sometimes it can take a few tries to get these medications right.” 

The two of them nodded. The doctor smiled at them. 

“What about work?” Moss asked.

“Well, since I know that your job isn’t physical, I suppose you can go back whenever you feel like it,” the doctor replied. Moss nodded at him, visibly relaxing a little. The doctor smiled again. He wrote out a prescription, told them to make a follow-up appointment for three months’ time and bid them farewell. 

***

As soon as they got home, Roy knew that it was crunch time. 

He watched as Moss walked slowly around the kitchen, putting things away in cupboards and turning the pill box over in his hand. He bit his lip, looking away to the side. Part of him wanted to avoid this, but he knew it was inevitable. It was going to have happened at some point anyway. 

“Moss, we need to talk,” he said as he pushed himself off the kitchen door frame. Moss froze in place, and Roy watched him swallow shakily. 

“Um… what about?” Moss asked, his voice unusually high. 

“You know what.” 

Moss sighed, but nodded. He turned, leaning against the kitchen side. He looked down to the floor. When he looked back up, there were tears in his eyes. Roy moved to go towards him.

“I’m scared, Roy,” he said, his voice cracking. Roy stopped where he was. Was he supposed to go over there? Or stand here and listen? “I’m scared for you. I’m scared that you’re going to go out one day, and you won’t come back. I’m scared that I’m going to wake up to the police knocking at the door telling me that you’re never coming home. I’m scared that I’ll lose you.” 

A tear fell down Moss’ cheek, and he wiped it quickly away with the heel of his hand. 

“So… you’re not scared for yourself?” Roy asked quietly. Moss looked up at him. 

“Of course I am!” he exclaimed. “I’m… flipping well terrified! But I can’t imagine my life without you, and that scares me more than anything!” 

Roy came forward, reaching for Moss. Moss reached back and Roy pulled him into a hug. When his boyfriend began to cry into his shoulder he felt his own tears starting to well up. He leant his cheek atop of Moss’ head. 

“Everything is going to be fine,” he murmured, his voice soothing. Moss’ breath hitched, but he nodded against Roy’s shoulder. “They’re gone now. We’re both safe, safe as safe can be, okay? It’s all gonna be okay. I’m not going anywhere.” 

And somehow, deep down, Moss knew that Roy was right. 

Chapter Text

Once again, a month or so went by, and slowly, things began to return to normal. Of course Moss was still on the sertraline tablets, but had not suffered too many nasty side effects. One that he did suffer from, however, was drowsiness. Whilst Roy tried his best to be sympathetic, Moss did now seem to have the habit of falling asleep in the weirdest of places. The most memorable had been when they had been waiting to cross the road, and Moss had fallen asleep leaning against the traffic light pole. Roy had had to suppress a chuckle as he’d gently woken his boyfriend up. Sometimes Moss still had nightmares too, but they were definitely less frequent and more manageable. 

Before they knew it, it was a week until Christmas and they were due to be going to Ireland in four days. 

Roy had been stressing all week. Despite the fact that it was about going back to his childhood hometown again after so long, the stress was manifesting itself in obsessive checking. 

Very. Obsessive. Checking. 

He was checking everything. The presents, the money they were taking, the plane tickets. You name it, he had probably checked it. He’d weighed their luggage so many times that Moss was surprised the scales hadn’t given up in protest. 

In fact, Moss found the whole thing rather confusing. Like, he understood that Roy was nervous about how the people in his hometown were going to perceive him, but he was going to see his family again! Surely that was exciting? Moss couldn’t imagine what it would be like if his mother lived so far away that he couldn’t just nip and see her. 

They sat watching the telly together, as they did most nights, Moss cuddled up to Roy, when all of a sudden Roy shifted. This jolted the sleepy Moss awake. He made a small noise, trying to pull Roy back towards him. 

“Where are you going?” he murmured. Roy chuckled a little, gently moving Moss off of him and getting up, heading back into the bedroom. Moss considered getting up and following him, but he was tired. He sighed, slumping over to lie down on the sofa. “Roy-y-y-y-y-y!” he called, putting on his sweetest voice. Sure enough, a moment later his boyfriend’s head appeared, poking around the doorframe. 

“Yeah, baby?” Roy asked, smiling at him. 

“What are you doing ?” Moss said. He twisted onto his back, looking up at his boyfriend. Even upside down Roy’s smile was magical. 

“I’m just checking that everything’s packed, baby,” he said. He blew him a quick kiss before disappearing again. Moss made a small whining noise, trying to pull Roy back into the room. It didn’t work. A pout made its way onto his face and he shifted back onto his side, turning his eyes to the television.

About ten minutes or so later, Roy returned. He didn’t sit down, instead reaching over and clicking the telly off. He leaned down, resting one hand on Moss’ cheek and kissing him. Moss smiled, sitting up a little to kiss his boyfriend better. Soon, however, it became clear that Roy definitely wanted more than a kiss. Moss broke away. 

“Not tonight,” he said. “I’m not in the mood, okay?” 

“Yeah, alright,” Roy replied. They kissed quickly again and Moss got up from the sofa, stretching out his limbs. “I love you, sweetheart.” 

“Love you too.” 

They kissed again, and Moss couldn’t help but smile at what he had right in front of him. 

***

When they arrived in Ireland, it really sunk into Roy that he was going back home. 

Well, home was a relative term. For over twenty years now London had technically been his home and he loved it there, he really did (especially since he’d met Moss), but it wasn’t the same sort of home that Ireland was. This was where he had been born, been to school, grown up! He was always going to have some sort of nostalgia towards his hometown. He’d have a good childhood there, after all. 

His father Michael and sister Shania were waiting for them in the lobby of the airport. Roy was a little surprised: he hadn’t been expecting his sister. As soon as they spotted them they began to wave, grinning at them. Roy took a moment, glancing at his boyfriend. Moss was looking straight ahead, a smile on his face and one hand on the strap of his backpack. The other was holding Roy’s hand. 

Whilst he was happy to be seeing his father and sister again (the first time in three years now) he couldn’t help but feel as if people were staring, whispering, judging. He looked down at his shoes, taking a deep breath. Yeah, this was going to be fine, right? 

As soon as they reached them, Roy’s dad reached forward and pulled his son into a tight hug. Roy stopped. His father wasn’t usually as affectionate as this. 

“Hi Dad,” he said a little awkwardly. His father let him go, and before Roy could recover his sister was pulling him into a hug too. “Hi Shania.” 

“How are you?” Roy asked once she let him go. His dad nodded his head, so Roy assumed that meant he was okay. He turned to his sister. “How are James and the kids?” 

“Same as always, to be honest,” Shania replied, smiling. She turned to Moss, looking him up and down. Moss glanced at Roy, a terrified look in his eye. “So… you’re my baby brother’s boyfriend then?” 

“I’m thirty six,” Roy grumbled, but his sister ignored him. She stood between the two of them, causing them to drop each others’ hands. She narrowed her eyes, walking round and round Moss. Roy watched as both of Moss’ hands gripped the straps of his backpack, his eyes glued to his shoes. Shania watched him scrupulously. 

“You really chose this one?” she asked. When both Moss and Roy gave her betrayed looks, she burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, Roy. He seems good.” 

“Thank you,” Moss murmured. Shania laughed again. After that, they all moved out towards the baggage area. Roy’s dad was chattering away to them, telling them about the plans for Christmas Day, and the fact that Roy would have to put up decorations outside when they got back as no-one else could reach. 

Before long, they were in the car and nearly back at the house. Roy felt like a child all over again, relegated to the back seat of the car whilst his sister taunted him from the front. Except it was different, he supposed, because Moss was sitting next to him, holding his hand as he looked out of the window. 

“Everyone’s at the house already,” Roy’s father said, glancing at them in his mirror.

“What, everyone?” Roy asked. 

“Yeah. Your mam’s been cooking since nine this morning.” 

“The kids and everything?” 

“It’s chaos, my lad. Chaos.” 

“Tommy’s taken to trying to climb the tree in the front garden,” Shania chipped in. Roy winced. The tree was huge, good for climbing but dangerous. Tommy was Shania’s middle child, at seven years old. 

“They’re all excited to see you though,” Michael said with a grin. “Well, maybe not baby Rosie so much, but she’s three months old.” 

“God yeah, I haven’t met her,” Roy said. “Did Niamh and Jonathan get the present I sent?” 

“Yeah, they got it.” 

At this point, they were pulling into the driveway of the house. It was an old farmhouse, surrounded by fields and greenery. There were already three cars on the gravel driveway. On the huge front garden stood a tall oak tree. Off one of it’s lower branches, hanging upside down was a young boy, his long hair hanging down and getting in his eyes. Shania sighed, shaking her head and getting out of the car. The men watched as she went over, kissed her son on the cheek and told him to try not to kill himself. Tommy nodded, but didn’t move. Michael chuckled, turning to the boys. 

“Leave the cases, we’ll sort them later,” he said. The two of them nodded, getting out of the car. 

The first thing Moss noticed was that it was cold. Really, really cold. It didn’t seem to phase Roy, who wasn’t wearing anything different from his normal jacket, but to Moss it seemed almost arctic. He shivered, automatically leaning into Roy. His boyfriend, of course, put his arms around his shoulders, but Moss was sure he heard him chuckle. 

“If anyone gets on at my boyfriend for being English I’ll bite your head off!” Roy shouted as they entered the house. 

The sound of Roy’s voice seemed to summon everyone in the house, as not a moment later there was a tremendous chorus of crashing and shouting and people began pouring out of the door in front of them. There were three women, three men and six kids-- who ranged in age from ten to three months-- all there, talking together and trying to reach for them. Moss gave his boyfriend a worried look, looking up at him. Roy noticed, and cast his family a look. At this, they all fell silent, and the majority of them backed away, disappearing back into whatever room they had come from. 

Only Roy’s mother Joan remained. She was a small woman, with short grey hair and a kindly smile. As Roy looked at her, standing there and smiling at him, it suddenly consumed him that he hadn’t seen her for three years. Stepping forward, he let his smile show on his face as he reached forward and pulled her into a hug. She smiled into her son’s shoulder as she hugged him back. Moss stood awkwardly to the side, not quite knowing where to look. 

“I’ve missed you,” Roy whispered. His mum let him go, resting her hands on his cheeks and smiling at him. 

“I’ve missed you too, my darling boy,” she said. They both paused for a moment, and then Joan moved away from him to look at Moss. Moss was staring at a family picture of all six of them that was hung on the wall in almost fascination. Joan cleared her throat and Moss jumped, looking over at her. “You must be Moss,” she said with a grin. 

“Yes,” Moss blurted. He looked over to Roy again. Joan chuckled. 

“You don’t need to be so nervous,” she said. She turned and walked away into what Moss guessed was the kitchen. Roy followed her, so Moss did too. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to take his shoes off, put his bag down, where he was supposed to put his coat… As he felt his panic begin to rise, he remembered the techniques that Dr Mendel had taught him all that time ago. He took a deep breath, running his hand along his thigh. “Are you boys hungry? I can make you something to eat.” 

“We’ll wait ‘till dinner,” Roy said, kissing his mother on the cheek before reaching around her and taking a pre-made sandwich from the counter. Joan smirked to herself. Clearly she had been anticipating this. She turned to Moss. 

“What about you, dear?” 

“I’m okay, thank you,” Moss murmured, staring at the floor. 

“His meds suppress his appetite, he’ll be fine until later,” Roy said through a mouthful of sandwich. He was sitting up on the kitchen side. Moss’ cheeks flushed, and he looked off to the side. Joan turned to her son, hands on hips. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, get down off that side and let your boyfriend speak for himself,” she snapped. Roy paled, nodding and quickly getting down. As soon as he did, she smiled at him. “Good. I raised you to be polite, young man.” Roy mumbled something to the ground as his mother turned back to Moss with a smile. “Sorry about him. Are you okay, then? For food?” 

“Yes, thank you,” Moss replied. He couldn’t suppress his giggle. “Roy’s right, thought, so it’s fine.” He paused, glancing down at his shoes for a moment. He lowered his voice. “You don’t… mind?” 

“Of course not, dear,” Joan said. She gestured to the boys, leading them with her into the living room. She said something to one of the women in the room before disappearing back into the kitchen. Roy followed her, leaving Moss standing by the sofa, feeling even more awkward than normal. 

Before he knew what was happening, Roy’s sister with the baby was approaching him. He looked up just in time to see her thrusting the baby towards him. 

“Hold her a second?” she asked. Moss nodded, speechless. The sister, Niamh, smiled at him, and off she went into the kitchen too! Before long, both Shania and Roy’s other sister Jessica retreated to the kitchen, leaving Moss alone with the sisters’ husbands and the children. He sat down on the sofa, not daring to look anyone in the eye, nor move in case he woke the baby up. She was sleeping peacefully in his arms. 

“Here, I’ll take her,” one of the husbands said with a smile. Moss nodded, relieved. He came over, sitting down next to him and taking the baby. He smiled at Moss. “Hi, I’m Jonathan, Niamh’s husband. You’re Moss, right?” 

“Yes,” Moss replied, smiling shyly. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“You too.” Jonathan paused, looking Moss up and down just like everyone else had. “So how did you and Roy meet?” 

“We work together,” Moss said. He let out an internal sigh of relief. This he could talk about. “In IT. Well, we did before Douglas ran off, and then we ended up being CEO’s. But we don’t really do much, it’s more Jen that does all that. Jen used to be our relationship manager, but now--” He stopped himself, looking down at his lap and chuckling nervously. “Sorry, I’m rambling.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Jonathan said with a smile. “Is this your first time meeting the parents?” Moss nodded. Jonathan gave him a sympathetic look. “Don’t worry about it, they’re lovely.” He looked down at his daughter with a smile. “Just wait until you come round with a kid!” 

Before Moss could process this, Roy came back in from the kitchen. He sat down next to his boyfriend, putting his arm protectively around his shoulders. Moss noticed that his cheeks were very red. He stifled a giggle. 

“Alright, Jonathan? How are things?” Roy asked his brother-in-law. Jonathan nodded with a laugh. 

“Yeah, alright,” he said. “Sleep-deprived.” 

“Yeah, congrats! Is this the little one?” 

Jonathan nodded. Roy smiled at him, leaning over to look at his niece. “She’s beautiful.” 

Jonathan grinned at him, gently repositioning his daughter. The three of them made small talk for a while before Roy’s mother poked her head into the living room and asked for Moss and Roy to help her bring the dinner out. It took longer than they anticipated-- there was a lot of food-- but before long they were all sitting at the table. The baby was asleep in the other room. 

“So Moss, what do your parents do?” Roy’s father asked once everyone had filled their plates. All of a sudden, all eyes were on him, and Moss could feel the pressure starting to mount. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that it was fine, they weren’t out to get him. 

“Um, my mother is a legal secretary,” he replied, doing his very best not to stare down at his plate. “My father died when I was young.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Michael said. Moss shook his head, shooting him a weak smile. 

“It’s okay. It was a while ago now.” 

“Still…” Michael said, trailing off. After a moment, he shrugged and went back to his food. 

“Where did you go to university, Moss?” Joan asked, leaning forward. “Our Roy went to Staffordshire University’s London campus.” 

“I went to Cambridge,” Moss replied. All of the adults around the table made approving noises, nodding their heads. Moss didn’t miss the looks that were shot towards Roy. He did his best to keep his nerves off his face as he looked down at his food. His pill was sitting by the side of his plate. He’d almost forgotten about it. 

“What’s that?” 

This question was voiced by five-year-old Flora, Shania’s youngest, who was sitting next to Moss. She was pointing at the pill. Panicked, Moss looked over to Roy, grabbing his arm and giving him a pleading look. Roy nodded, leaning forward. 

“It’s, ah, a special sweet,” he said. “That only grown-ups can have.” 

“Why?” Flora asked. Roy made a face, looking to his sister. Shania leaned over the table towards her daughter. 

“Just eat your dinner, sweetheart.” 

She nodded, and Moss let (some of) his tension go. 

***

By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, Moss was far more relaxed. To be honest, as soon as everybody had left that first night most of his anxiety went and he seemed much more at ease. Roy, too, was much calmer. He was enjoying being home again. He’d forgotten how much he had really missed his parents over the past few years. He had to start coming over more often. 

Now thought, it was eleven p.m on Christmas Eve, they were watching a movie with his parents and Moss was having a nightmare. 

Most onlookers wouldn’t have been able to tell, but Roy knew. Moss was twitching ever so slightly, his lips moving but no sound coming out. The meds did help, but they hadn’t got rid of the nightmares completely. Roy knew that Moss would be distraught when he woke up-- especially if he had that nightmare where Roy himself was killed again-- and it often took a good quarter of an hour to calm him down. The Irishman bit his lip, glancing towards his parents. 

“I’m just going to warn you now,” he murmured to them. They turned their heads to look at him. “In about two minutes Moss is probably gonna wake up screaming.” 

“Is he okay?” Joan asked worriedly. 

“He will be,” Roy said. “Just don’t stare at him or anything, okay? He gets embarrassed and it’ll just make him feel worse.” 

Roy’s parents nodded. As if on cue, Moss let out a short sharp scream, shooting upright from his boyfriend’s lap as his eyes snapped open. He took a moment, taking a few deep heaving breaths before turning to his boyfriend. 

“We’re safe?” were the first words out of his mouth. 

“Yeah, we’re safe, sweetheart,” Roy replied. He stayed still as he let Moss rest his hands against his t-shirt, feeling along his boyfriend’s abdomen. Once he was sure that his boyfriend hadn’t been stabbed, he reached forward and pulled Roy into a tight hug. Roy’s hands went straight to Moss’ hair, starting to mess with it. “Shh. You’re alright. They can’t get you.” 

Today it didn’t take too long to calm him down, only ten minutes or so. Almost immediately Moss went back to sleep, curled up against Roy’s side. Soon he was snoring softly again. Roy smiled a little, putting his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. 

When he noticed his parents smiling at each other, he chose not to ask any questions. 

***

“Merry Christmas!” 

Roy groaned, rolling over onto his side. He didn’t know what time it was, but it was way too early. Why was his mum trying to get him up already? Did she know what time--

Wait. Was Moss here? 

Opening one eye, he reached across the mattress. It was empty, but still warm. That meant it was probably around quarter to eight or so in the morning. 

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he forced himself to sit up. The mattress next to him dipped and his mother sat down on the bed next to him. “Where’s Moss?” 

“He’s just gone in the shower,” she said. Roy nodded. The two of them were quiet for a moment, sitting side-by-side next to each other on the bed. 

“Mum?” Roy eventually said, his voice quiet. “You do like him, don’t you?” 

“Oh sweetheart ,” his mum exclaimed, pulling her son into a tight hug. “Of course I like him. He’s sweet and kind and clearly loves you to bits. He’s just perfect for you.” 

“You really think so?” 

“Definitely. 

Now Roy couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He leaned into his mum’s hug. To be fair, his question still hadn’t been answered. 

Oh, wait. Church. Of course.

All of a sudden he didn’t feel quite so thrilled.

***

The rest of Christmas just passed like… well, Christmas. Moss and Roy mumbled their way through church, they all wore silly paper hats from the crackers, everyone overindulged on food and drink. All the kids seemed fascinated by how the crown sat balanced atop Moss’ hair, and when everyone sat down on the sofas Moss found himself being climbed on by six eager children, which he handled surprisingly well.

By nine p.m, all the kids were in bed, the alcohol was out and they were all playing Monopoly. 

Moss had decided to stay sober. Because of this fact, he and Roy were absolutely beating the shit out of everyone else at Monopoly. 

“I love this man!” Roy drunkenly proclaimed as Jessica and her husband were forced to hand over all of their money to them. “I love him stupid clever brain and everything about him!” 

Moss blushed, and reminded himself to remember this as one of the greatest Christmases ever.

Chapter Text

One month later: January 2015 

Moss knew there was something afoot when Roy didn’t eat his dinner. 

Things had been rather uneventful since Christmas. Work had been normal, they had been normal, everything had just been… normal. Jen had reconnected with Peter File on Friendface, and was managing to look past the name for now. Apparently they were doing very well together. 

But back to Roy. 

Moss had noticed that Roy had been very gloomy all day. Every time he’d gone to kiss or hug him, he had been gently pushed away and sent back over to his own desk. Even when they got home Roy made him stay at a distance. That wasn’t too hard, however, as almost as soon as they got home Roy went straight into the bedroom and fell seemingly asleep. 

Moss let him sleep until eight p.m, once he’d made dinner. It was one of Roy’s favourites: spaghetti with little bits of hotdog cut up in it. He crept into the bedroom. Roy was curled up on the bed, facing the far wall away from the door. Moss went over to the bed, giving him a gentle shake. 

“I made dinner,” he whispered. “Spaghetti and hot dogs. Your favourite.” 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Roy murmured back. “But ‘m not hungry.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

Worried, Moss furrowed his brow but accepted this answer. He leaned over, intending to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek, but Roy simply rolled further from him. Right. Moss stood up, casting one last anxious look back before going back into the living room and shutting the door behind him. 

He ate his dinner alone in front of the television. It was a rather strange experience, one he hadn’t really had since uni. He could hear Roy tossing and turning in the other room, and it was taking everything he had not to march in there and demand to know what the ruddy hell was going on. Thing was, he knew Roy. He would come clean and tell him eventually anyway. There was no reason to pressure the situation. 

Meanwhile, Roy was lying in the bedroom feeling like actual death. 

For the past couple of hours, his body had been trying to decide whether he was freezing cold or boiling hot. Currently he felt as if he’d just been dunked in a tank of ice water. He was shivering violently, his teeth were chattering and he was resisting the urge to crawl under the blankets. He knew that as soon as he did, the switch would probably flick and he’d be boiling again. His head was pounding, his stomach swirling. Oh God, he felt awful. He had done all day. He was extremely good at hiding it though, he thought. He hadn’t told Moss a thing. He knew he would have to tell him eventually, but he was holding off for as long as possible. He hadn’t been letting him kiss him, though. He didn’t want his boyfriend catching whatever he had. 

Almost two hours later, whilst he was trying to fight through the invisible lake of molten lava his body had clearly just been dropped into, he heard the bedroom door creak. The mattress dipped, and then there was a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey,” Moss whispered. Roy made a small noise of acknowledgement. “Look, I’m going to sleep on the sofa tonight.” 

“No, it’s fine,” said Roy with a groan. He forced himself to sit up, trying to ignore the flash of pain that shot through his head. When he moved to get up, Moss forced him to sit back down. 

“You have a bad back as it is,” he said. Roy nodded, too tired to argue. The two of them sat side-by-side in silence for a little longer. 

“I don’t think I can go to work tomorrow,” Roy groaned. He closed his eyes as Moss leaned forward, resting the back of his hand against his boyfriend’s forehead. 

“You’re burning up,” Moss said. 

“I feel like shit.” 

“You look it.” 

Roy didn’t even have the energy to muster up a glare. It was probably true, anyhow. He lay back down, curling up on the bed. He couldn’t be bothered to get changed. 

Somewhere around midnight, he threw off most of his clothes, unable to stand to heat anymore. He’d barely got more than an hour and a half of sleep by the morning. The time had dragged, but eventually he heard Moss waking up in the other room, so he knew that it was half seven. He didn’t feel any better. If anything, he actually felt worse. He was pretty sure his fever was getting worse, he’d started coughing and he couldn’t breathe through his nose at all. Ugh. Why him? Why did he have to suffer like this? 

“I’ll be home around five-ish,” Moss said quietly before he left, coming over and sitting down on the bed. Roy turned to look at him, pulling the sheet tighter around himself. “Will you be okay on your own?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Roy replied. 

“There’s cold and flu pills on the side here.” 

“Thank you.” 

“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He paused, smiling at his boyfriend. “I would kiss you, but…” 

Roy giggled, and then began to cough as it aggravated his lungs. Moss rubbed his back gently, giving him a worried look. 

“Ow,” Roy said weakly, once he’d stopped coughing so much. He leant his head on Moss’s shoulder. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Moss asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.” 

“Well, call me if you start to feel worse?” 

Roy nodded. Moss gave him a quick hug before getting up, clicking the light off and casting one last look back before closing the door behind him. A moment later, Roy heard the front door slam. 

He tried to sleep, he really did, but he just couldn’t. He ended up putting on a terrible kids movie, and when he cried at the ending he knew that he was definitely sick. He didn’t cry at stuff. Well, very rarely anyway. 

At around lunchtime his phone went off. He dried his eyes quickly, pausing the telly and grabbing his phone. Moss, of course. He clicked the answer button. 

“Hey,” he said. His voice was hoarse and quiet. 

“How are you?” Moss asked, sounding anxious. Roy shrugged. 

“As well as can be, I s’pose.” 

“Have you been crying?” 

“Only at a film. How’s work?” 

“Boring without you here.” Roy smiled as he listened to Moss giggle a little. “Do you feel any better?” 

“Not really,” Roy said. Moss made a small sympathetic noise. 

“Do you want me to come home?” 

“No, it’s alright, stay at work,” Roy replied, lying through his teeth. He would have very much liked Moss to come home, but he knew that it was best for his boyfriend to be at the office. 

“Are you sure.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

There was a pause. 

“I’ll be home in half an hour.” 

“Oh thank God.” 

Moss giggled a little, and Roy smiled again. 

“Love you.” 

“Love you too. Bye.” 

***

Over the next three days, Roy didn’t improve at all. On the second day, his fever tracked nearly all the way up to forty degrees and Moss had been adamant about taking him to A&E, but Roy’s slurred pleading managed to dissuade him. He’d hardly eaten a thing, and was only drinking because Moss was forcing him. Once, when he’d tried to get up, he’d fainted right back down into the bed. It had only been for a few seconds, but Moss could’ve sworn that in those few seconds he felt his heart stop dead.

On the third day, Roy’s fever finally broke. Little by little, he started to eat more again. When he was able to breathe through his nose again, Moss chose to ignore the way his boyfriend cried a little bit. 

“Thank you, by the way,” Roy said quietly one night whilst they were sitting watching the telly. He turned and coughed into his elbow before looking back at Moss. He was picking at his food a little, but he had eaten almost half a plateful, which was an increase on the night before. 

“For what?” Moss asked. His eyes were glued to the telly. 

“For taking care of me. You didn’t have to.” 

“Roy, I think you’re very clever,” Moss said, looking over to his boyfriend. Roy smiled at him. “But what you just said was very, very stupid.” Roy’s smile dropped. Moss grinned at him. “I love you. You don’t have to thank me for looking after you.” 

“God, what did I do to deserve you?” Roy asked. He leaned forward to kiss his boyfriend, but then thought better of it and leaned back. Moss smiled a little, pushing his glasses up and snuggling up to his boyfriend. 

When he got sick two days later, Roy was happy to return the favour.

Chapter Text

It was their first Valentine’s day as a couple, and Moss was nervous. 

Truth be told, Moss was nervous most of the time. However for Valentine’s, he was extra-nervous. You see, all of the years leading up to this that they’d known each other, he had watched Roy seal up dozens of “anonymous” Valentine’s cards with a generic message and his number on them. Whoever messaged him first, he would go and have dinner and then usually mediocre sex with them. Just last year, he’d spent the whole day trying to convince Jen to pretend to break up with him in a crowded bar in order to get some, what he called “pity sex” . Spoiler alert, it hadn’t worked. More than once, Moss had imagined what it would be like if Roy was sending just one Valentine’s card out and it was addressed to him, but now it was actually going to be happening, he all of a sudden wasn’t so thrilled about it. 

You see, Moss had never had a Valentine before. Not once. Not even in primary school, when you picked your best friend of the opposite gender and proclaimed them to be your “date”. Once, when he was six, he had come home to a card from a “secret admirer” , but he had immediately known that it was his father’s handwriting. He actually still had that card floating around somewhere. In secondary, everyone had expected him and Morgan to be each other’s Valentine, but that never actually happened. He’d gone the majority of his adult life without having any meaningful or long-lasting relationships. There used to be this one guy he’d drunkenly hooked up with when he was twenty-three who would text him every six months or so until he changed his Friendface status to in a relationship, and a couple of times he had texted him on Valentine’s day… Did that count? He’d asked Jen, but she’d just hugged him and told him he was “too sweet for his own good” . No, he didn’t get it either. 

He’d been trying to muster up the courage to ask Roy about it, but every time the subject got brought up he would panic, and would end up simply telling his boyfriend that it was a surprise. In the end, Google became his solace. Never before had he been so ruddy grateful towards the internet: and he was always ruddy grateful towards the internet. Finally, he managed to find something that he hoped Roy would like, along with a card. He got his mum to pick up a fancy box of chocolates (so Roy wouldn’t see, obviously), which he went and picked up the night before under the guise of helping her put up a shelf. 

On the morning of Valentine’s day, Moss woke up to the sounds of clattering in the kitchen. He rolled over, yawning as he reached for his glasses. Roy was not in bed next to him. 

“Roy?” he called, his voice still thick with sleep. The clattering stopped for a moment, and then a few seconds later Roy’s top half appeared in the doorway. His hair was wild, he was still in his pyjamas and he had a tea towel thrown over his shoulder. Moss giggled a little, looking down at the bedsheets. 

“Mornin’, baby,” Roy said. He grinned at his boyfriend. “Happy Valentine’s!” 

“Happy Valentine’s,” Moss replied. He got up out of bed, coming forward and kissing Roy quickly on the lips. 

“I’ve nearly finished making breakfast,” Roy said as he turned and walked back to the kitchen. Moss followed him. There was no smoke, so that was good. Actually, it smelled very good: pancakes and chocolate and strawberries, all of his favourite things. He smiled at his boyfriend, sitting down at the kitchen table. He yawned again, rubbing his eye to get the sleep out. “Jen wants us to nip into the office for a couple hours this morning.” 

“Doesn’t she have plans with Peter?” Moss asked. He took the mug of tea (milk, two sugars) from his boyfriend with a smile. Roy shrugged, turning back to the stove.

“She just said she needed our help clearing up a couple of things.” They both fell quiet, Moss sipping his tea and Roy concentrating on trying not to burn the pancakes. “Oh, yeah… she told us to bring our Valentine’s presents for each other.” 

“Why did she say that?” Moss said, leaning forward. Roy shrugged as he tipped the pancake out onto a plate. He turned his back to his boyfriend, doing some secretive thing. Moss watched him almost amusedly as Roy made some strange noises. Eventually the Irishman turned back, looking a little dejected. He was holding a plate. He came forward, putting it down in front of his boyfriend. Moss looked down. The pancake was in a weird, unidentifiable shape, covered in copious amounts of chocolate, whipped cream and strawberries. 

“The chocolate sauce was supposed to say I love you ,” Roy said nervously, biting his lip. He pointed to the pancake. “And it was supposed to be in the shape of a heart. But it didn’t really go very well.” 

“I think it’s lovely,” Moss said, looking up at his boyfriend. Roy smiled and leaned down, kissing him gently. 

“You’re so perfect,” he said. Moss blushed and looked down at his breakfast. As he started to eat, Roy watched him nervously. Swallowing his first bite, Moss smiled and looked at him. 

“It’s good,” he said. Roy’s face split into a huge grin and he kissed him again, turning back to the stove. As soon as his boyfriend’s back was turned, Moss did his best not to spit the pancake out. For once he was wishing they had a dog so he could feed the pancake to it under the table. 

That’s not to say he didn’t finish his breakfast. 

***

The building was strange when it was empty, Moss thought as they walked through the deserted lobby towards the stairs to the basement. It was a Saturday, you see, so normally there would be nobody here. Neither of them were quite sure what Jen wanted from them, but they were too tired and too wise to argue with her. As instructed, they were both carrying sappy-looking gift bags. 

Jen was already waiting for them in the office. She jumped up as they came in, smiling at them. Roy gave her a weird look, closing the door behind him as Moss went straight to his desk and sat down. He swivelled once in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Jen, in the nicest way possible, why the hell are we here?” Roy asked. He came forward and threw himself down on the sofa, looking over to his boyfriend. Jen rolled her eyes. 

“I need you two to sign some paperwork,” she said. 

“Couldn’t we have done that Monday?” 

“Just do it, please?” 

The fury in her voice was so mighty that they both nodded immediately. Moss got up and came to sit next to Roy. The documents, along with a pen, were sitting on the coffee table. They both quickly signed where they needed to sign before turning back to Jen. Roy shrugged. 

“So?” he said. “Why else are we here?” 

“I wanted to see what you got each other for Valentine’s!” she squealed, grinning at them and sitting down on the armchair. Roy groaned, throwing himself back against the sofa. 

“Do you really have nothing better to do on a Saturday morning?” he grumbled. Jen paused for a moment.

“No.” 

Roy smirked, but nodded. He turned to look at Moss. 

“Do you wanna go first or shall I?” he asked. Moss made a non-committal noise, making a gesture that seemed to say up to you . Roy reached behind him, getting his sappy gift bag out and handing it to his boyfriend. Moss took it with a smile. 

The first thing he pulled out was a card. He opened it up to see an even sappier card. There was a heart taken out the middle of the front, the space filled up with lots of different sizes of googly eye. The writing said “I only have eyes for you” . Moss giggled, looking at his boyfriend. Roy smiled at him. He opened the card up. It didn’t say much, just “I love you and look forward to sending you these cards for the rest of our lives” . Moss looked up from the card, tears in his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed Roy. Then he reached back into the bag. He pulled out a box of assorted chocolate bars (clearly handmade, as it contained all of his favourite chocolates), a small teddy bear and then a bunch of flowers. They were beautiful, lots of different colours. Unfortunately he had no idea what type they were. He smiled again, raising them to his nose and smelling them. There was a pause. 

Then he started sneezing. 

He sneezed so much that Roy started to look worried. The Irishman reached forward, resting his hand over his boyfriend’s. Moss shook his head, pushing the flowers back towards him. 

“Allergies,” he forced out. Roy’s face dropped and he quickly threw the flowers across the room. 

“I’m sorry!” he said quickly. “I didn’t realise you were allergic to lilies! I knew you were allergic to carnations and orchids and sunflowers, but not lilies.” 

“It’s fine,” Moss said once he’d stopped sneezing. In the background, Jen was trying not to choke on her own laughter. “They’re lovely, they really are.” 

“You like it?” Roy asked hopefully. 

“Yeah.” 

They smiled at each other. Moss put his things to the side, reaching for his sappy bag and handing it to Roy. “My turn,” he said eagerly, pushing the bag forward.

Roy took it from him, opening it up. Like Moss, he pulled out the card first. On the front of the card was a load of binary code, with a message written underneath: “I may think in binary but you are the only 1” . Roy shook his head with a chuckle. That was classic Moss. Inside was a very long and rambling message, which essentially read as “I love you” . Roy smiled at his boyfriend, putting the card to the side. He reached back into the bag, and pulled out four poster frames. Inside them were hand drawn posters of vintage computers. They looked expensive, and immediately Roy loved them. He turned one of them over in his hand, looking up at his boyfriend with wide eyes. 

“My gift looks shit now,” he said, his voice a little choked. 

“It’s not,” Moss said, leaning forward and putting his hand over Roy’s. He bit his lip nervously. “Do you like it?” 

“Sweetheart, it’s perfect,” Roy replied. They hugged, Roy burying his face in Moss’ shoulder. Jen watched them, a proud look in her eyes. After a minute or two, they broke apart. Roy dried his eyes, turning back to Jen. “So? Why are we here?” 

Jen just smirked and tapped the side of her nose.

***

They spent the rest of the day at home, playing video games and watching telly. The prints were up in their living room, taking pride of place above the sofa. At around six, Moss disconnected from the game. He got up and disappeared into the kitchen. Roy watched him bemusedly. 

“What are you doing?” he called. 

“Nothing!” Moss called back. He did not sound very convincing. Roy chuckled, shaking his head and going back to the game. 

Over the next hour, some very strange noises came out of the kitchen. Roy tried not to think too much about it, not even when there was what sounded like a bit of a mini-explosion, but when he heard Moss let out the most unnatural squeal he looked up. 

Smoke was starting to come out of the kitchen, and he could smell burning. He could hear Moss coughing in the kitchen. 

“Is everything alright, love?” he called nervously. 

“Fine!” was the frantically yelled reply. “Don’t come in here!” 

Of course, Roy completely ignored this and got up, walking over to stand in the kitchen doorway. He got there just as the smoke alarm went off. He coughed, waving his arms around to try and dissipate some of the smoke. Obviously this went wrong, and no sooner had he done this when he felt soft flesh and a tooth against his hand, and Moss let out a small yelp. Roy stumbled forward, reaching for the fire extinguisher he kept in the cupboard by the stove. He couldn’t see any flames, so just grabbed it and aimed it towards where most of the smoke was coming from.

By the time he had finished, most of the kitchen and them were coated in white foam. As the last of the smoke disappeared, Roy blinked to get his vision back to normal. Moss was in the corner of the room, clutching his asthma inhaler and coughing weakly into his elbow. He was covered pretty much head-to-toe in white foam. It was even coating his glasses. Roy, too, was almost entirely covered. On the corner, just peeking out through a sea of foam, was a still smouldering tea towel. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Roy said, his voice hoarse from the smoke. He coughed again. The smoke alarm was still going off. “Did you try to Masterchef it?” 

Moss nodded miserably, coughing again. Roy looked around the ruined kitchen. This was going to be a nightmare to clean. Plus that had been their best Star Trek tea towel. He watched as Moss reached up, wiping the foam off of his glasses. As they stared at each other, Roy’s lips began to quirk upwards. So did Moss’. It wasn’t long before they were both howling with laughter, doubled over on opposite ends of their wrecked kitchen. 

“Bloody typical!” Roy chuckled as they both managed to get control of themselves. Moss nodded in agreement, trying to dry his eyes with foamy fingers. Roy smiled at him. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Moss said. His voice, too, was hoarse. Roy looked around the kitchen again. 

“Guess we should clean this up.” 

“Yep,” Moss replied. There was a pause. 

“O-o-o-or we could go take a shower together, stick a shitty rom-com on, order a pizza and worry about it tomorrow?” 

Well, Moss had never been one to say no to his boyfriend.

Chapter Text

Three weeks later, they found out why Jen wanted them to sign those forms. 

It turns out she was orchestrating a deal with another company, and those signatures were helping to confirm this deal. She hadn’t told them anything until the day before the top businesspeople from this other company were due to come in. 

“Oh, by the way, you need to come in smart, clean clothes tomorrow,” she said suddenly over lunch. This was coupled with a glare over at Roy, who had shown up with a suspicious-looking white stain on the front of his black t-shirt that morning. 

“For God’s sake, how many times, it is yoghurt !” Roy hissed, his cheeks flaming bright red again. At his desk Moss began to giggle, putting his hand over his mouth. Roy swivelled in his chair to glare at him. “And you laughing isn’t helping!” 

“Anyway!” Jen shouted over him, shooting them both a deadly glare. They both fell quiet. “As I was saying, we’ve got some people coming in for a meeting tomorrow morning. A potential merger.” 

“Why are we only finding out about this now?” Roy asked a little angrily. He looked up from his computer, sending Jen an angry look. Jen shrugged a little as she flicked over the page in her magazine. 

“The important thing is you’re finding out now,” she said. Roy narrowed his eyes at her. Moss wasn’t really paying attention, as he had now put his earphones in and was ignoring both of them. “Look, it’s not that big a deal--” 

“It sounds like a big deal,” Roy commented. Jen paused. 

“Okay, it is a bit of a big deal. But it’ll be fine!” 

Roy gave her a disbelieving look and then turned to look at his boyfriend. He had been half-expecting him to say something by now. Of course he then saw that Moss had his music on, and wasn’t listening to a word they were saying. He turned back to Jen. 

“So who’s this company, then?” he asked. 

“Throckmorton and Co. Associates,” Jen replied. When Roy began to laugh a little, she gave him a look. “Weird name, I know, but they’re really interested in investing in the Abracada-bra. We need them on our side.” 

“You realise this isn’t a war, Jen?” Roy joked. Jen narrowed her eyes at him, picking up her empty drinks bottle and lobbing it at him. It hit him right on the head. “Ow! Hey!” 

“Can you just stop being such a knobhead!?” she shouted. She stood up from her seat indignantly. “Tomorrow, nine a.m, be here in smart clothes, okay!?” 

Roy nodded, scared. Jen nodded, giving him one last glare before turning on her heel and stalking back into her office. She slammed the door behind her. Roy shook himself, clambering over the back of the sofa and sitting himself on top of Moss’ desk. His boyfriend took one earphone out, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Did she hear what Jen said?” Roy asked. Moss shook his head. Roy chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s head and moving back over to his own desk. 

***

The next morning, Moss and Roy were at the office early. They were both dressed in their nicest suits, but Roy was rather messing with the illusion of professionalism as he was scuffing the toe of his shoe along the floor. Jen was pacing around the conference room, had been since they had all got there. Moss was sitting at the head of the table, going over the back-up powerpoint again and again. He was murmuring under his breath. 

When Stephanie came into the room and cleared her throat, they all jumped about a foot in the air. Jen stopped pacing, Roy put his foot flat on the ground and Moss looked up from his computer. 

“Mr Throckmorton and his team are here,” she said, her voice quiet. “Shall I show them in?” 

Jen cleared her throat, smoothing down her suit jacket. She glanced at the boys. Turning back to Stephanie, she nodded, forcing a smile. Stephanie nodded back, turning and walking back out presumably towards the lobby. A couple of minutes later she returned, this time leading what looked like a small army. The three of them gulped. All they had was themselves, and maybe Gary from Accounts in case things got really sticky. 

Jen shot the boys a glare, and they quickly came to stand next to her. The Throckmorton crew began to filter in: first Mr James Throckmorton himself, then the assistant directors, then various other people. Jen was the only woman in the room. They shook hands with everyone as they came in and Moss hadn’t been paying much attention, staring at his shoes. They had nearly all come in, and Stephanie was starting to close the door. 

“Well, I never thought I’d be seeing you again, Maurice Moss.” 

That voice. Moss knew that voice. It was a deep baritone, rich and smooth like an expensive chocolate mousse. It belonged to someone who he knew well, far too well…

He looked up so quickly he nearly cricked his neck. Yes. He had been right. Tanned skin, tall, a strong jaw, sparkling white teeth, clean-shaven and grinning at him. At least this time he was wearing more than just a pair of grey jogging bottoms. 

“Z-Zach,” he stammered, his voice shaking. “It’s been a long time.” 

Everybody in the room was staring at the two of them. Mr Throckmorton, who had just gotten comfortable in the seat at the head of the table, stood up. 

“Mr Fernsby, do you two know each other?” he asked a little accusingly. Zach laughed, shaking his head. 

“We were neighbours during the first year of university, sir,” he said. Moss’ breathing grew subtly heavier as he watched Zach’s eyes flick over him, and then a smirk come over the other’s face. “Let’s just say it’s been a while.” 

“Excuse me,” Moss murmured. Before anyone could stop him, he pushed past Zach and wrenched the door open, not daring to look back as he sprinted out into the hall. Nobody even tried to call for him, but if they did then it was too late because as he rounded the corner he knew he was too far away to hear. Before he realised what he was doing, he opened the first door he saw, ran into the room and closed the door behind him. 

It turned out that he had run into an old supply closet, and once he closed the door the room was plunged into pitch darkness. Moss didn’t care. He scrambled to the back corner of the room, collapsing down against the wall and pulling his knees up to his chest. 

His heart was hammering. He felt dizzy, there was cold sweat on his forehead and he felt as if he was about to throw up. He tried to take a deep breath, but it felt as if there was a stone sitting on his chest. The skin that had brushed against Zach when he had pushed past him was tingling in a very strange way. He felt as if he’d been drenched in ice water. There was some invisible thing in his throat, blocking the breaths he was trying to take. He lowered his head, resting his forehead on his knees and letting out a sob. 

“Moss, this is fun, but nothing more is going to happen between us.” 

Everything had been going so well! He and Roy were just perfect, work was finally sorting itself, he was getting on with his life… and now this had come back for him! 

“I’m not gay.” 

This was so ruddy typical! This didn’t matter, right? He had Roy now. Roy was all that mattered. 

“Oh, don’t be such a baby about it, Moss. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

He hadn’t known then. What if he didn’t know now?

There was a quiet knock on the door, bringing him out of his thoughts. He looked up. It was useless really, as he couldn’t see any more in the dark. He sniffed, dragging a hand over his face. His ears were ringing a little. Breathing still felt difficult. 

The door creaked open, and there was light for a moment. Moss just about made out Roy’s face before his boyfriend closed the door again. A moment later, the low glow of a phone screen filled the room. Moss looked down at his feet. 

“As much as I love being in an old supply cupboard with you,” Roy whispered as he came forward and sat down cross-legged in front of his boyfriend. “Care to tell me what’s going on?” 

Moss took a deep breath as he did his best to look up. Well, might as well just come out with it now. Roy would probably find out anyway. 

“Roy, I used to have sex with that man,” he said, his voice quiet. 

There was a pause, and then Roy began to laugh. Moss gave him a confused look. 

“Alright, very funny, now out with the real reason,” the Irishman said. When Moss started to glare at him, his laughter began to taper off. He shook his head, putting his hand over his mouth. “W-wait, really?” 

“It was university, we met on the first day, things just got a bit… out of hand,” Moss said. His breathing was starting to quicken again. “I said I wasn’t going to go all the way with him, but…” 

“I thought I was the first guy you… y’know… slept with,” Roy said. He sounded almost annoyed. In that moment, Moss forgot about the panic of seeing Zach again as a strange, unfamiliar anger began to fill him. 

“Well surprise surprise, I’m not as innocent as you thought I was,” he replied, his voice angry. “Sorry to disappoint you!” 

“I never said I was mad at you about it!” Roy replied. At this point, Moss had given up trying to guess how he sounded. “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?” 

“Depends who you ask!” Moss shot back. He pushed himself off the wall and stood up, stepping past his boyfriend and walking towards the door. Just as he was about to open the door, he turned back. “Autism, avoidant personality disorder, reactive attachment disorder, social communication disorder, OCD, schizophrenia? Would you like me to dig out my medical files when we get home?” 

“Okay, Moss, calm down,” Roy said. He clambered up, coming over and standing in front of his boyfriend. He reached down and took his hands in his. Moss tried to pull away, but Roy held him there. “You’re spiralling. You’re going to say something you don’t mean and we’re both going to get mad and that never ends well. Just try and take deep breaths, okay? Remember it’s not me you’re annoyed at at the moment.” 

“Oh no, I’m definitely annoyed at you,” Moss shot back, but he did start taking a few deep breaths. After a few minutes, he seemed better. He bent his head, doing his best not to cry. 

“I’m sorry I said something was wrong with you,” Roy said quietly. “That was wrong of me, because there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect. You’ve always been perfect.” 

“I’m not perfect,” Moss replied. His voice was full of tears and he was staring at the ground. Roy made a small noise, reaching forward to wrap him in a hug, but Moss shook his head and stepped away. “I’m going home. Don’t follow me.” 

“Moss--” Roy tried to say, but Moss was gone before he could finish his sentence.

Chapter Text

Over the next week, things did not get better between Moss and Roy. If anything, they only got worse. Almost every night they were arguing. And they never argued. Ever since that first argument in the supply cupboard Moss had slept alone on the sofa. Work had been awkward as hell. 

Speaking of work, that had only gotten more awkward. It turned out that Throckmorton and Co. Associates were not the easy steal they had thought previously. Negotiations were tough-going, and with Moss struggling with Zach even being in the room it was difficult to get anything sorted out. 

Unfortunately, this only became more difficult on the eight day of negotiations when a woman walked into the room. 

She was utterly stunning. Tall, curvy and clearly ready for anything, most of the mens’ eyes were firmly locked on her. This included Roy’s, except not for the reason you’d think. You see, he knew this woman. He knew her both not at all and all too well. It had been a few years, but yes, there was that mole on her neck, yes, it was definitely her… 

“Shi-i-i-it,” he murmured, trying to slide down in his seat. Jen gave him a strange look. Moss, who was sat a few seats over, hadn’t noticed. She nudged him a little. 

“What?” she hissed. 

“That woman cannot be here, not now,” Roy replied. He was careful to keep his voice quiet. 

“Why not?” Jen shot back angrily. 

“Because things with Moss are tenuous and having someone I once slept with show up isn’t going to help!” 

Jen gaped at him in disbelief. She shook her head, looking to the woman and to Roy and then back again. 

“No,” she said. 

“Yes.” 

“That woman never slept with you!” 

“Well she did and here we are, so help me out a bit!” 

Jen rolled her eyes, but nodded. The two of them continued to pretend to make small talk, allowing Roy to watch the woman out of the corner of his eye. She was talking to Mr Throckmorton in the corner of the room, twirling her hair around her finger. Every so often, she would glance over at Roy. As her and Mr Throckmorton came over to the table, she flashed Roy a winning smile. Roy tried to smile back, but it didn’t really work. Threatening look, Jen thought with a wince. 

She glanced over to Moss. Uh oh: he’d clocked on to this woman. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were following her around the room like a hawk. Had he heard her and Roy’s conversation? Perhaps he had. Or had it been her smile, dazzling like bright sunlight towards Roy? Whilst she didn’t know whether Moss was the possessive type, she did know that he loved that crafty Irish bastard so damn much. What would he do if threatened by someone else? 

Over the next three hours it became clear that this woman was not one to be messed with. She was a tough negotiator, and if Jen had to guess she would have said this woman was some sort of debate team champion. It was shocking. The three of them had no idea what to do. Finally Jen called a lunch break, and pulled the boys into a side room. 

“What are we going to do?” she asked, leaning her back against the door. Moss and Roy both shrugged. They were on opposite ends of the room, not even looking at each other. Jen huffed, rolling her eyes. They were going to be useless. She would have to do it herself. “You know what, I’ll sort it out myself. You two just…” 

She stopped herself, shaking her head. Before the boys could say anything, she wrenched the door open and stalked out. The boys were left alone together. 

They stood there, not looking at each other, for a full ten minutes. Eventually, just as Moss was about to say something, Roy turned and walked out of the room. Moss paused for a few moments, trying to process what to say before following after his boyfriend. 

Thing was, he really, really wished he hadn’t. 

He had been about to round the corner when he spotted Roy stood leaning against the wall. He was facing him. In front of him, her back turned to him, was that woman from the board room. She was laughing so much that even Moss could tell it was fake. 

“You’re so funny , Roy!” she giggled. Roy smiled at her. Moss felt a pang of jealousy shoot through his stomach. That smile was his smile. Not her’s. “God, I don’t know why we ever broke up!” 

Wait. What? Moss stumbled backwards a little, blinking in shock. They had dated? Roy hadn’t told him that. Why hadn’t Roy told him that? Was there a reason behind that? 

“Well…” Roy chuckled nervously, tilting his head to the side. He shook his head after a moment, smiling at her again. “So! You’re working for this Throckmorton dude now?” 

“Yeah, it’s crazy, isn’t it?” the woman replied. She leaned forward towards Roy, and Moss craned his neck to be able to see better. “I heard that you’re dating a… guy?” She sounded almost confused as she said this. “I didn’t know you were gay.” 

“Bi, actually,” Roy said. “But… yeah. We’ve been together about nine months now, and--” 

“Cut the bullshit, Roy,” the woman said. She leaned forward, tilting Roy’s chin up with one long finger. “You know as well as I do we belong together. We were so good as a couple. We fit together.” 

“Danielle, I-I…” Roy stammered, but the woman cut him off. 

“He’s just a distraction, some plaything to satisfy your naughty little desires,” she purred. Her hands were trailing along his chest, and in Moss’ mind she was smiling up at him, her tongue tracing along her lips. “We both know you don’t really love him. Not properly. He doesn’t love you properly, either.” She paused. “I can love you properly.” 

She grabbed Roy’s face, pulling him forward and kissing him. It was a deep kiss, full of lust and passion. No. Moss couldn’t watch any more. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to watch, he didn’t want to listen, because, because, because…

Because he couldn’t help but think she was right. 

Not about him. He knew he loved Roy with all his heart. But what if Roy didn’t love him fully? What if it was just empty words, tricking him into a false sense of security? Oh God. What if Roy was going to get bored of him? Was he going to be alone again? 

He took a shaky breath, looking back over to the two of them. Oh God, they were still kissing. Roy didn’t seem like he was into it, but he still wasn’t pulling away. Yes, that confirmed it. Moss looked down at his shoes, taking a few short breaths. Then he let out a small sob. 

He looked up just in time to see Roy lock eyes with him. Roy shoved Danielle away from him, taking a step forward towards Moss, reaching out for him. Moss stepped away, shaking his head. He put his hand over his mouth to stifle another sob. 

“Moss!” he heard Roy shout, but he ignored him. He turned on his heel, booking it down the hallway. He could hear feet after him, but he didn’t care. He was almost to the stairs to the basement when he felt a hand on his arm and he froze. 

“Moss, please, just let me explain!” Roy begged. Moss turned slowly to look at him. He pulled his arm away. 

“Explain what?” he asked, his voice filled with tears. “You can’t lie to me, Roy. I saw what happened.” 

“That wasn’t me!” Roy replied desperately. “It was her! She kissed me.” 

“Then why didn’t you pull away?” 

Roy fell quiet at this. Moss shook his head. “I knew it,” he said. He took a deep breath. “Roy, I think--” 

“Moss, just remember--” 

“For fuck’s sake, it’s not the meds!” Moss exploded. Roy took a step back, feeling as if the wind had just been knocked out of him. Moss, swearing? This wasn’t right. Moss never swore. In fact, this was the first time he’d heard him use the word fuck . “This is why you’re never going to love me properly! Danielle’s right!” He paused. “Well, partly!” 

“Moss…” Roy said, but the lump in his throat was blocking any words from coming out. 

“Roy, I love with all my heart,” Moss said. He took another step back. “And that’s why… that’s why…” 

“Why what?” Roy asked, his voice soft. 

“That’s why I can’t do this anymore.”

Chapter Text

“Roy, I love with all my heart,” Moss said. He took another step back. “And that’s why… that’s why…” 

“Why what?” Roy asked, his voice soft. 

“That’s why I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what, Moss?” Roy asked. His voice was no louder than a whisper, and not by choice. It felt as if he’d forgotten how to speak or move or do anything . What he thought was happening couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. 

“I can’t be with you anymore,” Moss said. At this point, everyone in the lobby was staring at them. They weren’t even trying to conceal it. Roy wanted to glare at them, but he couldn’t wrench his eyes away from Moss. “You deserve… I don’t know, someone who can give you everything you want. Someone who always knows what you’re feeling without having to even concentrate. And that’s… not me.” 

“But I want you, Moss,” Roy said, stepping forward towards him. Moss shook his head, looking away to the side. 

“You think you do, but you don’t.” With this, Moss stepped away and began to walk towards the door. Just before he got there, he turned back. Roy felt a glimmer of hope in his chest. Had he changed his mind? Was he coming back? “I’ll be out of the flat in a week, don’t worry.”

“And then he just… left,” Roy finished with a sigh. He took another gulp out of the wine bottle. He and Jen had been down in the basement for nearly an hour now, talking and drinking wine straight out of the bottle. Under the circumstances, the two companies had agreed to stand down negotiations for a week or so. “I really didn’t think he’d leave like that.” 

“Okay, okay, hang on,” Jen said, leaning forward. She drank the last dregs out of her bottle of red. “So a week ago, some God-like dude that Moss boned a few times--” 

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me,” Roy murmured, taking another drink. Jen glared at him. 

“So this dude shows up, you two fight for a week, a gorgeous woman you apparently once had sex with shows up, she tells you that you’ll get bored of Moss, kisses you whilst Moss is watching, and then he breaks up with you in the lobby of the building?” 

Roy paused for a moment, thinking. 

“Yeah, you’ve pretty much covered it,” he said. He drank the last of the bottle, throwing the empty bottle onto the sofa. Leaning forward, he put his head in his hands. Jen watched him with a sympathetic look on her face as he struggled not to cry. “I just… Moss is the one , y’know? The One the one.” 

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Jen said, reaching over and rubbing his forearm in the most comforting way she could. “Could you not try calling him?” 

“He’s got it in his head that I don’t want him deep down or some bullshit,” Roy said, bringing his head out of his hands. He sighed heavily, looking away to the side. Then he looked back to her. “He’s talkin’ about moving out, Jen. I think this is serious.” 

“Of all the things I imagined happening with you two, I never thought this would happen,” Jen said. Roy nodded. “I mean… you’re so perfect for each other! Like, it’s been so obvious from the first time I met you both, you just have a strange sort of--” 

At this point, Jen stopped talking as Roy had begun to softly cry, one hand covering his face. She made a small noise, shifting a little closer to him. She put her arm around his shoulder. Immediately he turned and pulled her into a tight hug, and began to sob into her shoulder. 

“I love him so much,” he said in between sobs. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without him.” 

Jen just hugged him, unable to admit that she didn’t know either. 

***

When Roy stumbled back into the apartment drunk, tear-stained and full of self-loathing, it was nearly midnight. He and Jen had been drinking all afternoon and all night. Nothing more than wine, but there had been copious amounts. In the end, the night cleaner had made them leave, bundling them both into a cab and paying it forward for them. 

“I’m ho-o-ome!” he shouted out of habit. Of course there was no response. Yeah. Moss was probably at his mum’s, or maybe Morgan’s. 

The whole flat was dark, but in a way that made it easier. If he slept out here on the sofa, he could pretend that Moss was just in the other room. Staggering over to the sofa, he threw himself down on it, putting his hand over his eyes. 

“Hey, baby,” he murmured as he shut his eyes. “I know you can’t hear me right now, and I know you’re pissed off-- like, really pissed off… but I wanted you to know that I love you, okay? I love you so much. I love you more than booze or computers or Mario on the Sega Megadrive. You’re just the most perfect person in the world and…” he trailed off, sniffing back tears. “I don’t deserve you. I get it. I get why you’ve gone. But please, if there’s any chance you’ll come back… I’ll take it, baby. I love you. All I want is you back here in my arms.” 

He paused, screwed his eyes even tighter shut, praying, just hoping for a miracle. Nothing came. He sighed. “I see how it is. Was worth a try, s’pose.” 

With that, he turned on his side, closed his eyes properly and fell almost instantly to sleep. 

***

Inevitably, Roy did not show up for work the next day. Jen stumbled in somewhere around eleven, clearly extremely hungover. She groaned, taking a moment to look over the office when she walked in. Empty, empty, empty… Moss. 

He was sitting at his desk. Well, sitting perhaps isn’t the right word. He was slumped over it, his forehead resting against it.

“Moss?” she said, her voice quiet. He sat quickly upright, looking over to her. He looked awful, tear tracks staining his cheeks and his eyes all swollen and bloodshot. “Oh, sweetie…” 

“Sorry, I didn’t think you were going to be here today,” he mumbled. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute, I--” 

“No, stay here,” Jen said. Moss nodded. She sat down on the sofa, looking towards him. “Where did you stay last night?” 

“Morgan’s,” Moss said. “She let me sleep in their spare room, just for one night.” 

As Jen listened to Moss ramble a little, she couldn’t help but notice that his voice sounded a little hoarse. “Are you coming down with a cold or something?” she cut in, giving him a concerned look. 

“No,” Moss replied a little confusedly. “Why?” 

“Oh, you sounded a bit…” Jen trailed off. “Never mind.” 

And that’s how each morning after this seemed to progress. For two whole weeks, it was just awkward, stilted interactions between all three of them. In the end, Throckmorton and Co. Associates pulled out of the deal, much to the relief of everyone in the company. Most people over the last month or so had had the feeling that the other company was bad news. 

Moss never actually mustered up the courage to move out of the flat. In the end he wound up sleeping on the sofa. Roy, however, was not making the whole affair any easier by getting blackout drunk every night and bringing a different girl back to have sex with. More than once in the past fortnight Jen had been awoken in the middle of the night to a tearful Moss on her doorstep asking to crash on her sofa because he couldn’t take it at the flat anymore. 

Actually, it was one of these nights that became the turning point. 

It was 1:17 a.m, and Jen had just been woken up by knocking on her door. She groaned, forcing herself to get up. When she unlocked the door and flung it open, she was hardly surprised to see Moss there, his bag hanging off of one shoulder and an apologetic look on his face. 

“ Again ?” she groaned. Moss nodded miserably. “Alright, well you better come in then.” 

“Thank you, Jen,” Moss said in a small voice as he stepped into the flat. Jen closed the door behind him and led him into the living room. 

“Why exactly did you break up with him in the first place?” she asked as they were digging through the airing cupboard for the spare blankets. Moss shrugged a little, fixing his gaze straight ahead. 

“Well, I suppose seeing him with that girl made me think he doesn’t really love me,” he finally replied after a considerably long pause. “And that’s not his fault. It’s just… how it is, I suppose.” 

“Moss, he loves you so much,” Jen said. She stopped what she was doing to turn and look at him. 

“Then why is he currently at his flat rutting with some stupid flea-brained--” 

Moss stopped himself before his voice rose too much. Jen sighed frustratedly. 

“He’s miserable!” she exclaimed. He turned to her, confused. “He’s missing you so much and in his own stupid fucked-up way he’s trying to fill that gap. Surely you must be missing him too?” 

“Of course I am!” Moss replied. He was looking back in the airing cupboard. “I’m just…” 

“Just what?” 

“Worried.” 

“What about?” 

“That he won’t want me back. That I’ll just get rejected again, just like always.” He paused, shrugging a little. “It’s fine. Nobody sticks around for that long.” 

“Sweetheart…” Jen murmured. In that moment, she felt as if she’d just got a sudden glimpse into a part of Moss she’d never seen before. At work he always seemed so happy, so positive… whenever she was having a bad day or if she was going through some awful breakup or something, it was always Moss she went to to cheer her up. This Moss in front of her, the one wracked with anxiety and self-doubt and with so little confidence, didn’t seem at all like the Moss she knew. “Have you thought about talking to someone about all of this?” 

“I’m talking to you right now,” Moss replied. He reached right into the back of the airing cupboard and pulled out the pile of blankets. 

“I meant someone professional. Like that Dr Mendel woman.”

There was a pause. They both stepped away from the cupboard, and Moss shut the door. He leaned against it for a moment. 

“Maybe,” he said, his voice quiet. Jen smiled a little, reaching forward and pulling him into a quick hug. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said. Moss just about managed a smile before he walked away, disappearing into the living room. 

As Jen went back to her bedroom, she was pleased to see that her phone had been recording the whole time. 

***

“Roy, can I speak to you for a second?” she asked the next day, poking her head out of her office door. Roy, who hadn’t really been doing anything, nodded, getting straight up and coming in. Jen checked that Moss had his earphones in before shutting the door behind her. She went back behind her desk. 

“What’s up, Jen?” Roy asked. It was painfully obvious that he wasn’t paying attention: he was picking at his nails, looking around the room, slouching in the chair. Jen cleared her throat, sliding her phone and a pair of earphones over to him. 

“Moss appeared at mine again last night,” she said, her tone icy cold. At the mention of Moss’ name, Roy looked straight up at her. 

“What--” 

“Just listen, please.” 

Roy nodded, a little perturbed. He reached forward and put the headphones on, pressing play. Jen watched the emotions cycle through his face as the recording went on. As it reached the end, Roy’s hands were trembling as he removed the headphones. 

“I…” he croaked. He had to stop, swallowing for a moment. “I had no idea he felt like that.” 

“Roy, you need to stop sleeping around,” Jen said. She leaned forward, clasping her hands on the desk. “I know you feel awful right now, but if you want him back this is the best way, okay?” 

He nodded. Jen watched as he stood, as if he was in a trance, and walked back out into the main office. Grabbing her phone, she sent Moss a quick text: he’ll be alone tonight: make your move . 

Then she sat back, and waited to admire her handiwork.

***

It was around 3 a.m, and Roy was alone in bed. 

He wasn’t asleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep very well without Moss there to cuddle with. He was lying on his side, facing away from the door. It was open. He left it open every night now, in the hope that Moss would come back. As of yet, he had not. 

Actually, he was just starting to count sheep when it happened. He kept getting distracted thinking about that sheep that his family used to have that he could have sworn had some sort of vendetta against him whenever he got to about five or six. At that moment, the third imaginary sheep had just hopped over the imaginary gate when all of a sudden, there was someone lifting up the bedcovers and slipping into bed next to him. 

Straight away he was wide awake. He actually held his breath, barely daring to look. It couldn’t be. Could it? Taking a deep breath, he chanced it and turned around. Sure enough, lying there on his side with his glasses still on, was Moss. 

“W-what?” Roy stammered quietly, hardly able to believe it. 

“I love you,” Moss whispered in the fiercest voice Roy had ever heard him use. “And I am not giving you up this easily. These past two weeks have only reminded me that my place is here, with you. I belong here .” 

“Oh baby, I love you too,” Roy said with a sob. They both pulled each other into a tight hug as they began to cry a little. When they broke apart, they both reached up and wiped each other’s tears away. 

They went to sleep in each other’s arms, and they knew that they never wanted to be apart again.

Chapter Text

Over the next month or so, Moss and Roy slowly began to get back to normal. It wasn’t easy, and there was the odd hiccup here and there, but they were getting there. For Jen this was a relief, as she wasn’t sure if she could have taken them being broken up for much longer. She wasn’t sure whether or not they were sleeping together again, but the little looks she kept catching them giving each other sappy little looks, so she guessed they probably were. 

As a rather large company, Reynholm Industries had certain obligations. One of these was fancy charity dinners where rich shareholders came and donated obscene amounts of cash in an attempt to cover up their rampant affairs and shady business deals. Not in the thirteen years they had been working at the company had Moss and Roy been invited (or even really aware that it happened), but as the (official) head of the IT Department Jen had been invited to one or two over the years. Whilst the Abracada-bra had given them a decent boost, they still needed something more, just to give them that last little boost they needed to convince people that they were a good company. 

So, they were holding a charity dinner. Neither Moss or Roy were entirely sure exactly what charity they were helping, as they had just been told to show up in a decent suit on the night. 

It was now late April, and Roy was starting to miss his parents again. As a courtesy to his mother, Moss was allowing her to come to the dinner on the pretenses that she did not embarrass him. As they were lying in bed one night, Roy turned onto his side to face his boyfriend. 

“So, you know how you’re bringing your mum to this charity thing?” he whispered. Moss shifted to look at him and nodded. “I was thinking… I might see if my parents wanna come? I haven’t seen them since Christmas, and it’ll be nice to them to come see London.” 

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Moss replied quietly with a smile. They were quiet for a moment, grinning at each other. “Do you think our parents will like each other?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Roy replied with a shrug. “Your mum’s mental--” 

“Hey!” 

“You say it yourself!” Moss grumbled a little, but nodded. Roy giggled a little. “My mum’s mental, they’ll get along great!” 

Moss laughed. He reached forward, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. Roy immediately snuggled into him with a smile. 

He called his parents the next morning. They happily accepted the invitation, saying that they would come over in a week. Sure enough, a week later Moss and Roy were meeting Roy’s parents at Heathrow. They weren’t staying with them (much to Roy’s joy) but they were being nice. 

Two nights later was the charity dinner, and both Moss and Roy were stressing. 

“How are we gonna get there?” Roy asked as he fastened the cufflinks on his suit. Moss shrugged, barely looking up from where he was trying to fix up his hair in the mirror. “Shall we take a cab or the car?” 

“A cab sounds fine,” Moss murmured in response. He turned to Roy, looking a little panicked. “Does my hair look okay?” 

“It looks perfect, baby,” Roy said, coming forward and kissing his boyfriend on the forehead. He patted his pocket to make sure his wallet was there. “You okay?” 

“A bit nervous,” Moss admitted. “You?” 

“Same. I reckon it’ll be fine, though.” 

Moss smiled at his boyfriend, resting one hand on Roy’s cheek and kissing him softly. 

“I love you,” he whispered. Roy smiled at him, leaning forward and kissing him again. 

“Come on,” Roy said, breaking away with a grin. “Let’s go see this shitshow through.” 

***

When they got to the venue, both of their parents were already there. Moss’ mum was standing at one side looking at something on her phone, whilst Roy’s parents were on the other talking between themselves. As their respective sons got out of the cab, they both looked up, smiling. It was only when they started to walk towards the boys that they realised who the others were. They turned to each other, smiling. 

“Hi!” Moss’ mum said, stepping forward towards the other two. She offered her hand to them. Roy’s father took it. “I’m Gillian, Moss’ mother.” 

“Michael,” Roy’s father replied a little gruffly. “Roy’s dad.” 

“I’m Joan,” Roy’s mum cut in, pushing her husband out the way a little and giving Gillian a winning smile. “Can I just say what an honour it is to meet the woman who raised this fine young man?” 

“Oh sweetheart, the pleasure is all mine,” Gillian replied. The two women hugged. Moss and Roy glanced at each other. Roy raised his eyebrows, and Moss shrugged his shoulders a little. “Your son is such a pleasure, he really is.” 

Joan blushed a little, smiling and looking away. A moment passed, and then they seemed to remember that their sons were standing there. The mothers turned and embraced their respective children. Roy hugged back, whilst Moss did his best not to squirm in his mother’s arms. Once the mothers had let their sons go, Moss and Roy linked arms and led their parents into the room. 

Already there were rather a few wealthy people wandering around. Jen was up at the main table, chatting with one or other of the major shareholders. Moss and Roy looked around a little, and quickly came to the same conclusion: they were not going to speak to anyone unless they were approached. 

“So,” Moss’ mum said, turning to Roy’s parents. The boys turned, realising what was happening, but it was too late. There was nothing they could do. “What was Roy like as a child?” 

Roy groaned, throwing his head back. Moss’ face was reminiscent of a deer in headlights. Joan chuckled, shaking her head. 

“Well…” 

Roy was eight years old, and he was waiting for his mother to stop paying attention to him. 

Now, most eight year olds would love it if their mother paid attention to them every second of every day. Roy was not one of these eight year olds. You see, Roy was a superhero. Well, not technically, but he had a homemade Superman costume and a strong will. He could do anything! 

When his mother left the room, anyway. 

He was waiting for one of his sister to do something stupid. Shania was out, but Jessica and Niamh were still in. Right now he was sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of the television, playing with his Legos whilst his mum watched some random soap opera. Why wouldn’t she leave? 

Sure enough, no more than five minutes later there was a loud crashing and a yell of “Mum!” from the other room. His mother sighed, ruffling Roy’s hand before getting up and going into the other room. 

Roy took his chance. He got up, glancing around before sprinting out of the backdoor of the house. His dad was firmly locked away in his outhouse. His mum was busy. It was time. 

Grabbing the metal bucket his mother used to take the water down to the vegetable patch, he dragged it over and rested it against the wall of the shed. Slowly, he pulled himself up, wriggling on his belly to get to the centre of the roof. He stood up. He put his hands on his hips as he looked out over the garden and the field overlooking their house. It was September, and it was already starting to get dark at 6 p.m. The sun was setting over the field. He inched forward towards the edge of the roof. 

At the same time, Shania was walking up the field towards the house. As she closed the back gate, she looked up to see her little brother standing on the shed roof. He was getting close to the edge now. Shania froze for a moment, staring up at the shed. Then she rushed forward, poking her head in the backdoor of the house. 

“MAM!” she screamed.

“What!?” Joan shouted back. 

“Roy’s on the roof again!” 

“Then tell him to get down!” 

“Mam, you know that won’t work!” 

“Then just-“ 

Thump! 

Whilst the other two had been arguing, Roy had taken the opportunity to assume a superhero pose and throw himself off the roof in an attempt to “fly”. He had been so sure that it was going to work this time. Unfortunately, gravity had other ideas. Roy slammed into the hard plastic toy box by the side of the wall with a thump and rebounded, landing on the patio with a sickening crack . He skidded along a little before coming to rest in a silent heap at the edge of the patio. 

“MU-U-U-U-U-UM!” Shania screamed again, running over and kneeling down next to her brother. A few seconds later, Joan sprinted out of the house. She gasped when she saw her only son and ran over. At the same time, the door to the outhouse opened and Michael poked his head out, having heard all the noise. When he saw what was happening, he dropped what he was doing and ran over to them. 

“Oh God, not again,” he groaned as he knelt down next to his daughter. 

“Roy, sweetie, talk to mum,” Joan said, her voice tearful. Sure enough, Roy began to move again, groaning a little. Joan gasped, reaching forward and pulling him into her arms. When she caught his wrist, he seemed to come back to himself a little, beginning to cry. “Oh sweetheart, shh shh shh, mum’s here.” 

“My wrist hurts,” Roy sobbed. Michael reaches forward, taking hold of his son’s wrist. It was sitting at a slightly odd angle. 

“I think we’re going to have to take him to A&E,” Michael said. 

“Again?” Joan said with a groan. “They’re going to think we’re beating him or something!” 

“Love, I think his wrist is broken, we can’t just leave it.” 

Joan sighed a little, but then she looked down at her son and nodded.

“Did they think that, then?” Gillian asked with a smile. At this point they were all seated at a table. Roy was trying to slide down under the table whilst Moss was trying to stifle the giggles that kept rising every time he looked at his boyfriend. Joan shook her head, laughing. 

“No, they realised we were telling the truth when they saw the outfit and realised who we were,” she said, grinning. She turned to her son and burst out laughing when she saw her son’s harrowed face. She turned back to Gillian. 

“What about Moss?” she asked. At the mention of his boyfriend’s name Roy sat straight back up, whilst said boyfriend’s cheeks began to go red. Gillian smiled, leaning forward. 

“Well, there was this one time…” 

Moss was three years old, and wondering why he was being dragged around some huge garden. 

This morning he had woken up on a train on his mother’s lap. Suffice to say he had not been happy, as he had been expecting to wake up at home in his own bed, not on a moving vehicle. His father had managed to calm him down, and then his mother explained that they were going to Edinburgh for the day. Being three, Moss didn’t really know where this was, but his parents seemed sure about it so he guessed it would be fine. 

Thing was, being three also meant that he found walking around the Royal Edinburgh Botanical Gardens rather boring. After a few hours he started dragging his feet and making irritated noise, tugging on his father’s sleeve. It didn’t work. He still had to walk. 

It was getting towards the end of the day now, and Moss was very tired. He was lagging along behind his parents, trying not to lose them. His parents were talking amongst themselves. Moss sighed, looking over to his right. There was a huge pond, covered in big lily pads. 

He gasped, moving away from his parents. He’d been reading about lily pads just the other day. Well, look at the pictures. Frogs used the small ones to hop over the water. These ones were big. Maybe he could hop over them? 

Before anyone could see or stop him, he ran over towards the water. There was a sign there, but he could barely read so it didn’t phase him. Kneeling down, he reached out with one hand and pressed down on the lilypad. It felt fairly stable. Standing back up, he turned around. His parents had stopped to look at some informative sign or other. He grinned. 

“Mum!” he shouted as loudly as he could, waving at her. Sure enough both of his parents looked up. His mother mouthed something at him, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He turned away, taking a deep breath and launching himself onto the lilypad. 

As soon as he made contact, the lilypad broke and he was engulfed in icy cold water. 

On instinct he gasped. That was a bad idea, as water went into his mouth and down his throat. He tried to kick, but he’d never been swimming before and so didn’t know what to do. He struggled, reaching up towards where he knew the lilypad was, but it was slippery and he couldn’t hold onto it. He was panicking, trying to get out but he couldn’t, he couldn’t…

Then his father was pulling him out of the water and into his arms. 

Moss coughed, but it didn’t really help much. His father picked him up, sitting him upright and gently hitting his back. Moss coughed again, and this time some water came up. He groaned a little, closing his eyes. He was cold and soaked to the bone. There was a hand on his forehead, and he opened his eyes again to see his mother standing there, looking at him worriedly. She gently moved his hair out of his eyes. 

“Home,” Moss said miserably, letting out a weak cough. His mother nodded. His father picked him up, balancing him on his hip. His mother glanced over to the side: there was a security guard walking towards them. 

“We need to go,” she hissed to her husband. He nodded at her, shifting their son on his hip. 

With that, they turned and ran. 

“God, that must have been terrifying,” Joan said. Gillian nodded, taking a drink. 

“We came to laugh about it,” she said. “But yes. His father insisted on teaching him to swim after that, but he was so scared of water that it really wasn’t much use.” 

Roy turned to his boyfriend, a small smile on his face. Moss was face-down on the table, groaning softly to himself. 

“A lilypad?” the Irishman said with a smirk. “ Really ?” 

“Shut up, Superman,” Moss murmured. 

Roy took it as a signal to shut up. 

***

The rest of the night went fairly well. The parents continued to bond over embarrassing stories of their children, and after an hour or so the two of them gave up with it. They moved away to their own little corner. 

“You know, I’m calling you Frog from now on,” Roy said as he downed another drink. Moss giggled, nodding. “That’s gonna be your name in my phone.” 

“Okay, Superman,” Moss said. He kissed his boyfriend quickly on the cheek. 

“Are you gonna call me that forever?” 

“Guess.” 

Roy laughed, throwing his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. 

“Love you, Frog.”

Chapter Text

They had already known it was going to be a bad day: they never could have anticipated what was going to happen. 

They had been awoken that morning by the persistent pinging of their phones. Actually, Roy was awoken. Moss was still dead to the world, would be until half seven just like always. The Irishman groaned, rolling over away from his boyfriend. Moss simply snored a little more and flopped over onto his back. Roy rubbed his eyes, yawning a little. His phone, lighting up every second or so, caught his eye and he reached over for it. He squinted at it. There were messages from Jen, both of his parents, all of his sisters, people from work, even from Moss’ mum. He tilted his head to the side, rubbing his eyes again. 

“Moss,” he murmured, giving his boyfriend a small shake. It was nearly half seven anyway. He opened his messages as he did so. He went with his mum first. It seemed very cryptic, asking him if he’d seen the Daily Mail this morning. Confused, he texted back saying that he hadn’t. Everyone else’s messages were the same. Jen’s mentioned something about “damage control”. “Moss, wake up.” 

“What?” Moss mumbled, rolling over onto his side. 

“Check your phone.” 

“Why?” 

“Just do it?” 

Moss groaned, but opened his eyes and reached for his glasses. Putting them on, he grabbed his phone and squinted at it, just as Roy had done. He sat up a little. 

“Why does everyone want us to read the Daily Mail?” he asked. Roy shrugged. Moss looked back down to his phone. “Hang on, someone sent me a link…” 

Roy shuffled closer to his boyfriend, looking over his shoulder. Moss clicked on the link, and the two looked anxiously at each other as they waited for the screen to load. It didn’t take long. 

There, plain as day on the screen, was a picture of their faces, and a huge red exclusive sign in the corner. 

“Oh God,” Roy whispered, leaning forward. Moss, trembling a little, began to scroll down. Roy barely had time to read what was on the screen, but he knew his boyfriend would have done. “What does it say?” 

“I…” Moss stammered. He turned to his boyfriend. “It’s about us.”

“What about us?” 

“Our lives.”

Once again, Roy was confused. He tilted his head to the side again. 

“Our lives?” he repeated. Moss nodded. 

“It’s got information, interviews…” Moss paused, clearly sniffing back tears. He looked down at the bedsheets, and then back up. “It says where my dad’s buried.” 

Shit, Roy thought. It was May seventeenth, of course. 

“Sweetheart…” he said. 

“ Nobody is supposed to know where that is,” Moss said, his voice low and quiet. 

“Oh shit,” Roy murmured. He had taken Moss’ phone, and had been scrolling through the article when he had come across one of the interviews. Moss looked over to him. “They found Jack.” 

“The boy who you--”

“Yes, that one.” 

Moss shook his head. 

“How?” he said. He sounded angry now. “How did they find this out?” 

“More importantly, why?” Roy asked. He handed his boyfriend his phone back. Moss shrugged as he sniffed again. Gently the Irishman reached over and put his arm around his boyfriend. “You know, if you want to cry…” 

That was all he had to say. Moss bent his head and let out a sob. Roy pulled him a little closer, fighting back tears of his own. For some reason, even with Moss he felt like he still had to be strong and “manly”, as it were. Sure, he let his guard down sometimes, but his and Moss’ dynamic had always been more about him almost looking after Moss. Maybe looking after wasn’t the right word… looking out for? Yes, maybe that was right. Whatever it was, it meant that he’d hardly ever cried in front of Moss. He could probably count the amount of times on his fingers. 

That’s not to say he didn’t trust Moss. Of course he trusted him. He trusted him more than anyone in the world, it was just… well, boys don’t cry, right? Moss was an exception to this rule, but in Roy’s mind it applied to himself, and always had done. He wasn’t exactly sure, but he was trying not to think too much about it. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispered. He started to rub soft circles into his boyfriend’s back. Moss turned and buried his face in Roy’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright.” 

“No it’s not!” Moss exclaimed. 

“No, it’s not really.” 

They were both quiet for a little longer, sitting there together in bed. Roy had no idea what to say, and Moss seemed too upset to say anything. Eventually Moss shifted, moving off the bed. He pocketed his phone and went into the kitchen. Roy followed him. 

“Are you still gonna go up there?” the Irishman asked. Moss didn’t even look up at him, instead concentrating on making his tea. 

“Roy, I’ve been going there for thirty-one years,” he said quietly. “Nothing is going to stop me.” 

“You want me to drive you?” 

Moss shrugged a little. He moved away from the kitchen, abandoning his tea before the kettle had even boiled. Roy furrowed his eyebrows, pausing for a moment. That was… weird. Moss usually meticulously finished every single task he started. He never abandoned anything, unless it was very very difficult. 

Roy took a second, trying to consider the best way to approach the situation. Should he ask questions? Should he let Moss come to him? It had taken Moss three years to even tell Roy about it, and even to this day the Irishman only knew the basics. Handling delicate situations was not exactly Roy’s strong suit. He’d never been very good at it. It was something pretty much all of his ex-girlfriends had complained about. Adding to everything, they had only been back together for a month or so. He was terrified that one wrong move would ruin everything. So, he did the only thing he could think to do at that moment. 

He went back to bed. 

***

Unusually, Roy’s move actually turned out to be the best one. About an hour later, the door creaked open and Roy looked up just in time to see his boyfriend coming back into the room. He let his head fall back onto the pillow, sighing a little. A moment later, the other side of the mattress dipped and there was a pair of warm arms around his middle. 

“Are you okay?” Roy murmured. Moss made a small noise. 

“A bit,” he said. “What about you?” 

Roy took a moment to think about this. 

“Yeah, I suppose I’m alright,” he said. “Bit pissed off that some dickhead reporter has somehow found out everything about us and we didn’t even know, but you know. Perils of the job.” 

Surprisingly Moss giggled a little at this. Roy shifted, turning over onto his other side to look at his boyfriend. 

“Roy?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I really don’t want to go into work today.” 

“Me neither,” Roy whispered. He reached forward, brushing a stray curl away from Moss’ forehead. “Shall we bunk off?” 

“Now remember how that went last time,” Moss said a little disapprovingly. The two of them giggled a little. Roy sighed, leaning forward and resting his forehead on his boyfriend’s shoulder. It was vaguely uncomfortable, but it felt right somehow. 

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” he murmured. Moss paused to think about this, and then nodded. 

“Sounds lovely.” 

***

Of course, they did end up leaving the house. After a lengthy phone call to Jen, telling her not to speak to the press and to leave the entire affair alone for now, the two of them got dressed and had breakfast (although neither of them were very hungry). Roy had been about to change back into his pyjamas, as he didn’t exactly know why he’d changed out of them in the first place, when Moss reminded him that he had promised his mother they would go to the graveyard that morning. It was their custom, after all. So, into the car they got, driving to Moss’ mother’s house. 

All three of them were on edge for the entire drive to the graveyard. Hardly a word was spoken, but Roy couldn’t help but notice the nervous glances the other two were making out of the window every few seconds or so. He pursed his lips, choosing not to say anything. 

Thankfully when they reached the graveyard, it was deserted. Roy let out a sigh of relief. Thank God. That was one potentially emotionally catastrophic situation avoided. He sat back, promising his boyfriend he would wait and watching him and his mother walk up and into the graveyard. Letting out a sigh, he leaned back against the seat. 

Meanwhile, Moss was struggling with what to say to his mother. 

The two of them had been quiet the whole walk up to the grave. He kept glancing over at his mum, wondering what to say, if anything. These trips were usually silent, but today it felt like there was something brewing in his stomach, like he was going to have to say something. Before he knew it, they were standing once again in front of his father’s grave. 

“Sometimes,” his mother said quietly, as they stood looking down at the flowers she had just placed. Moss turned to look at her in slight alarm. She hadn’t moved, her eyes fixed on the flowers. “I look at you and it’s like he’s still here.” 

“I miss him,” Moss whispered. At this, his mother turned to look at him. 

“He would be so proud of you,” she said. “I remember when I was pregnant, he told me that he knew you’d be so perfect for us.” She paused, smiling. “I wish he could see you now.” 

“Thank you, mum,” Moss said suddenly. His mother tilted her head to the side. 

“What for?” 

“Everything. My whole life.”

She smiled again at him, even wider this time. Reaching forward, she wrapped him in a hug. 

For once, he actually hugged her back.

Chapter Text

“Happy one year, baby.” 

Moss smiled as he felt his boyfriend’s lips brush against his cheek. This is the best way to wake up , he thought, your partner by your side and the sun just coming through the window. He shifted onto his side so he was facing Roy. Without his glasses his boyfriend wasn’t much more than a blurry mismatch of colours (his vision was at its worst when he first woke up), but he still smiled at him.

“Good morning,” he murmured, leaning forward and trying to kiss Roy on the lips. He missed by about half an inch, catching the edge of his cheekbone. Roy giggled, and a moment later Moss felt his glasses being pressed into his hand. Gratefully he put them on. 

Ah, now he could see his boyfriend. Roy was grinning at him, with a light in his eyes that Moss suddenly found himself wishing was there more often. There was an envelope on his lap, and he was holding out a bunch of flowers. Not ones he was allergic to this time. 

“I checked with your mum,” Roy said with a chuckle. “She gave me a list of all your allergies for future reference.” 

“Probably helpful,” Moss replied, laughing. He reached forward and took the flowers. They were pretty. He took what he felt like was an appropriate amount of time to admire them before placing them on the bedside table. He turned back to his boyfriend. “Sorry about the weird cheek kiss. Glasses.” 

Reaching forward, Roy gently took the glasses from his boyfriend and put them on himself. Moss blinked a little. Now he was more awake, his vision wasn’t entirely awful, just a bit blurry. After a moment, Roy shook his head and took the glasses off. Moss took them back. 

“Jesus, how blind are you?” the Irishman asked. Moss gave him a look as he adjusted his glasses. Roy giggled a little. “Okay sorry, that was mean.” 

“It was,” Moss said matter-of-factly, shifting to snuggle perfectly in the crook of Roy’s elbow. He glanced over to the cabinet. All of the things they needed for the day were there. He let a smile make its way onto his face, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. “I’m excited about later,” he said in a quiet voice. 

“Me too,” Roy whispered in reply. “Are you nervous?” 

“Not really.” Moss paused, looking up at him. “Are you?” 

Roy shrugged a little, shifting to sit more upright. Moss moved with him, and Roy pulled him a bit closer. 

“A bit, I guess,” he said. “It’s just… weird, you know?” 

“I suppose I can see that.” 

“I’ve just never been to a Pride parade before,” Roy said. He leaned forward, taking his arm from around Moss and burying his face in his hands. Moss rested his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, a little unsure of what to do. 

“But you’ve seen them?” he said, sounding apprehensive. Roy groaned a little, nodding. Moss bit his lip. He really had no idea what to say. “Um… did you, er…” 

Moss’ stuttering and stammering quickly caught Roy’s attention. He brought his head out his hands and gave his boyfriend a reassuring look. 

“Don’t worry, love,” he said. Moss fell silent, giving him a worried look. “I know it’ll be okay.” 

“We’re just on the side for this one,” Moss said. Roy nodded. 

“You still want to do the face paint?” 

Moss nodded, and just like that the smile was back on his face. Roy chuckled a little. Both Moss and his mother had been talking about Pride since the start of June now. Roy himself wasn’t overly fussed about it, but Moss said that he wanted to go and Roy wasn’t adverse to the idea. Moss’ mother had come up with the idea for them to paint Pride flags on their cheeks (the gay flag for Moss and bisexual for Roy, of course), and no sooner had she finished her sentence that Moss was running down to Poundland for a packet of face paints. He’d ordered a rainbow flag off Amazon as well, and was insisting on wearing it as a cape. Roy had a feeling that after this, that flag was either going to end up on a wall in their flat somewhere or shoved into the back of the cupboard in the spare room. 

“I didn’t get you a present,” he said as he got up out of bed. He stretched out, and as he stood there he felt Moss come up behind him and wrap his arms around him. He smiled, looking to the side to look at his boyfriend. God he loved him. “But I’ll buy you whatever you want when we get to Pride, yeah?” 

“Anything?” Moss asked. His voice was muffled by Roy’s t-shirt. Roy laughed. 

“Yeah, anything.” 

“You’re going to regret that,” Moss whispered in a sing-song voice, gently squeezing his boyfriend. Roy chuckled again, shaking his head and looking towards the ceiling. He put his hands over his boyfriend’s. 

He stayed quiet, wishing he could stay in that moment forever. 

***

Later that morning, they met with Morgan, Leanne and Isabella for breakfast. This had been arranged for a while, but when it turned out to coincide with Pride it worked very well. 

As always, the second they sat down Isabella sat herself next to Roy and began to talk about anything and everything. Having grown up with many cousins, Roy knew how to deal with small children and so encouraged her, listening intently as she explained her theory on how heaven worked to him. 

“He’s very good with her, isn’t he?” Leanne murmured. Moss nodded, looking rather proud. 

“He’s good with all kids,” he said. “It’s sweet to watch.” 

“Have you two talked about kids yet?” Morgan asked. 

It took Moss all he had not to spit the orange juice he’d just drunk all over the table. He did his best to swallow it, but half of it went down the wrong way and he let out a harsh cough, staring at Morgan with wide eyes. This made Roy look up, giving his boyfriend a worried look that seemed to say “are you okay?” . Moss nodded, coughing again as he grabbed a napkin and tried to stop his eyes being so watery. Roy took a moment before nodding to himself and looking back down to Isabella. Moss turned back to the married couple. 

“I’m guessing that’s a no ,” Leanne said, quirking an eyebrow and glancing at her wife with a grin. 

“You two would be such good dads!” Morgan told him, leaning forward. “You could adopt, or get a surrogate…” 

“We’ve never even mentioned it to each other,” Moss said, careful to keep his voice down. 

“When we were young you told me you’d love to be a dad one day,” Morgan said. “Is that still what you think?” 

“Well, yeah…” Moss mumbled. 

“Then you should talk to him about it!” 

Moss bit his lip, taking another sip of his drink. After a moment, he nodded. The women grinned at him, glancing at each other for a second or so. 

The food came quickly after this, much to Moss’ delight. As much as he loved Morgan, he did not want to talk to her about this anymore. In fact, the thought of children had been swirling round his head for months on end now. He still remembered being fourteen and looking at that picture of his parents in their kitchen, thinking about his future family. He would love to have a little baby, someone who he could help nurture and grow and tell silly stories to. For so many years he had thought it was going to be impossible…

With Roy, anything seemed possible. 

He was lost in his thoughts as he ate his breakfast, hardly tasting it. He didn’t notice Roy watching him worriedly from the other side of the table. 

“Is he okay?” the Irishman asked, leaning forward towards Morgan. Morgan glanced at Moss, and then nodded. 

“He’s just thinking,” she said, smiling at him. “But it’s sweet you’re worried about him.” 

Roy smiled at her as he nodded. He watched his boyfriend for a little while longer before shaking his head and looking back at his breakfast. 

God he loved that man. 

***

Pride, Roy had decided, was the best. 

He and Moss were standing up against the barrier, watching the parade together. They both had their face paint done, which had led to a few people smiling at them and giving them compliments. Watching the other couples show clear displays of affection gave Roy a boost of confidence he didn’t realise he had. He had been kissing and hugging Moss way more than normal. Moss seemed to be enjoying it. Right now, he had his arm slung across his boyfriend’s shoulders as they watched the next float go past. 

“You having a good time?” he said into Moss’ ear. Moss turned to look at him. He had a bit of rainbow candy floss hanging out of his mouth. He nodded, and Roy chuckled a little. “Yeah, me too.” 

“Everything’s so pretty,” Moss said once he’d swallowed his candy floss. He grinned at his boyfriend. “Especially you.” 

“Oh shush,” Roy said with a laugh. He leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. 

“I love you,” Moss said. He smiled, his eyes flicking down to Roy’s lips. 

“I love you too.” 

They both took a moment, looking at each other. Moss smiled again before turning back to the parade. Roy had been about to too, when all of a sudden his phone began to go off. He got it out, squinting at the screen. It was Jen. “Baby, I’m just gonna slip off for a moment, Jen’s calling,” he said. Moss nodded, hardly looking up. Roy smiled once again before taking his arm from around his boyfriend and making his way through the crowd. He did his best to find a quiet spot, but in the end the only quiet space was the nearby public bathroom. He slipped in, thanking God it was empty. Getting out his phone, he quickly called Jen back. 

“Okay sit down and shut up, because you’re not going to believe this,” was the first thing Jen said before Roy could say anything. 

“Hello to you too,” Roy said with a chuckle. He paused for a moment. “You sound tired.”

“You would be too if you’d just gone through what I’ve gone through.” 

“What?” 

“So I was in bed with Peter last night,” Jen said. Roy winced. 

“Too much info, Jen.” 

“Ew, not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter!” 

“Sorry.” 

“Anyway, as I was saying, I was in bed when I got just the worst cramping in my belly. I thought it was just Aunt Irma stuff, you know, just gearing up because I’ve just stopped taking my birth control, but then it kept getting worse and worse and worse.” 

“Jesus, are you okay?” Roy asked, feeling his worry mounting a little. He heard Jen chuckle a little. 

“Eventually Peter insisted on taking me to A&E because blood started making an appearance--”

“Blood!?"

“Yes, blood, keep up Roy. They took me into the back pretty quickly, and the doctor took one look and went ‘are you pregnant?’ ” 

“But…” Roy paused, confused. “You’re not?” 

“That’s what I thought,” Jen said. Roy could practically hear her smirking. “Apparently there’s this thing called cryptic pregnancy. It’s surprisingly not that rare, occurs in one in four-hundred-and-fifty births. And…” 

“Oh my God!” Roy exclaimed, putting his hand over his mouth. He stopped for a second, letting the feelings rush over him.

“Yeah,” Jen said with a small laugh. 

“You had a baby !?” 

“Look, I’m as shocked as you are. Peter’s practically catatonic.” 

“Hang on, I have to go get Moss,” Roy said, holding the phone to his ear and running out of the bathroom. 

“What? Where are you?” 

“Pride. It’s our anniversary, remember?” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Happy anniversary!” 

Roy chuckled, rolling his eyes. He fought his way through the crowd until he finally spotted Moss, with his rainbow cape and painted cheeks. Gently pushing another couple out of the way, he tapped his boyfriend on the shoulder. Moss turned to him with a smile. 

“Jen had a baby!” Roy shouted. Moss’ eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. 

“What!?” he replied after a moment. “But she wasn’t pregnant!” 

“Apparently she was and didn’t know it!” 

Moss stood for a moment before coming forward and grabbing Roy’s hand. He led him away from the crowd and back over to a quiet bench. He reached for Roy’s phone, taking it and clicking it on to speaker. 

“Hi Jen,” he said. “Roy said you had a baby?” 

“Yeah!” Jen said with a laugh. “A little boy.” 

“Congratulations!” Moss replied with a smile. 

“What’s his name?” Roy asked. He leaned forward towards the phone. 

“Well we didn’t have much time to prepare anything, but we chose Reginald, after Peter’s father,” Jen said. “We’ll call him Reggie for short.” 

“That’s lovely,” Roy said, grinning. “Where are you now?” 

“Still at the hospital,” Jen replied. “Everything happened so fast that they just wanted to make sure he’s okay. Peter’s run down to town to get some things for the baby.” 

“When are you getting discharged?” Moss asked. 

“Sometime tonight.” she said. 

“Do you want us to pop up tomorrow, come and see you?” Roy said. 

“Yeah, that’d be nice. See you tomorrow then?” 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow. Congratulations again, bye!” 

With a smile. Roy hung up and pocketed his phone. He sat back against the bench, looking at his boyfriend. “So…” he said, biting his lip. “Jen has a baby.” 

“Yeah,” Moss said. He let out a small laugh. Taking a deep breath, he took down at his lap. “So, um… what do you think of kids?” 

“I mean, I like ‘em,” Roy said. He let out a sigh and stretched back over the bench. “Y’know, I grew up as the youngest, but I always had my cousins and I…” 

It was at this point that Roy realised exactly what Moss was getting at. He trailed off, making a small ahh noise as Moss looked away to the side. After a moment, the Irishman looked back over to his boyfriend. “You’d… want kids?” he asked, his voice breaking a little. 

“I mean…” Moss said, trailing off with a shrug. He bit his lip. “Yeah. I’ve always wanted to be a dad, and I never really thought it would happen but then we got together and all of a sudden it seemed possible.” He paused, looking up at his boyfriend. “Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah, perfectly,” Roy said quickly. He smiled, putting his arm around his boyfriend and scooting a little closer. “I mean, not right now, but I would definitely love to have a kid with you one day.” 

At this, Moss smiled and launched himself at Roy, pulling him into a tight hug. Roy chuckled, returning it with a smile. He rested his cheek against the top of his boyfriend’s head as said boyfriend squeezed him around the middle a little. 

And in that moment, Roy knew exactly what he wanted to do.

Chapter Text

Two days later, they went to see Jen, Peter and the new baby. 

They had spent the whole of Sunday out and about, buying things for the baby. Considering that Jen had not known the baby was coming, she and Peter had not had a chance to buy anything. Peter had managed to pick up some clothes, changing supplies, bottles, a simple crib and a car seat, but they had nothing else. Moss and Roy had spent the whole day in various baby shops, and had managed to get a suitable pushchair, a lot of baby clothes and some toys for the baby. Moss had insisted they pick up a babygrow that said “Daddy’s little angel” for their future child, which had made Roy laugh a little. They got a few dirty looks from some people in the shop, but a few well-placed looks from Roy whilst Moss was otherwise occupied did the trick. 

Peter answered the door to them. He looked tired, and had a muslin cloth thrown over his shoulder. He looked tired. Roy offered him a smile, whilst Moss stared down at his shoes. You see, Moss still felt rather bad about the whole Peter File/Paedophile thing, and rather responsible for the subsequent break-up. 

“Congratulations, mate,” Roy said. 

“Thank you,” Peter replied with a tired smile. “Jen’s just upstairs.” 

Roy nodded, gently tugging Moss forward and into the house. Peter shut the door behind them, following them up the stairs. The other two paused on the landing, unsure of where to go. Peter came past and led them into the bedroom. 

Jen was sitting up in bed. Cradled in her arms was a small bundle, wearing a little blue cap and a white babygrow. Roy raised his hand in greeting, creeping forward and looking at the baby. 

“He’s gorgeous,” he murmured. Jen looked up at him, smiling. 

“He is, isn’t he?” she replied, her voice hushed. Roy nodded. Peter came forward.

“Let me take him, darling,” he said. Jen nodded, handing her partner their son. He kissed her on the head before settling the baby in his arms and leaving the room. 

“So, cryptic pregnancy?” Roy asked, sitting himself in the chair next to the bed. Moss shuffled forward from the doorway. Jen nodded, grinning at him. 

“I was on the Pill and everything,” she said. Over in the corner, Moss winced and suppressed a small groan, folding his arms over his chest. Roy glanced over at him. 

“Sweetheart, why don’t you get the stuff out of the car?” he suggested. Moss gave him a grateful look, nodding before bolting out of the room. Jen chuckled softly, shaking her head. 

“Honestly, he’s always the same,” she said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Jen, can I talk to you about something?” Roy asked nervously. This caught her attention. She nodded, shifting in bed. She gestured for the cup of tea that was on the side. Roy handed it to her quickly. “So the other day me and Moss were talking about kids--” 

“You two want kids!?” Jen exclaimed. Roy gave her a strange look, nodding. She shrugged, taking a sip of tea. 

“Yeah, we were talking about kids, and I was sitting there and he was hugging me and I realised that I want to spend the rest of my life with him!” 

Roy stopped here, chest heaving a little. He gave Jen a panicked look. She took a moment to think about it, drinking her tea. 

“When you say the rest of your life…” she said after a minute or two, giving Roy the cup back. He placed it on the side. “What exactly do you mean?” 

“I don’t know…” he shrugged, sighing. “I wanna do stupid stuff with him and get married and raise a kid together and get a retirement home in Cornwall and grow old together--” He stopped, eyes widening. “Oh my God, I want to get married to him.” 

Jen grinned at him, clapping her hands together. 

“Oh, I was hoping you’d say that!” she squealed. 

“So you think I should… y’know, propose?” he asked. She nodded. 

“Definitely,” she said. Roy bit his lip, giving her a nervous look. “Honestly, I thought Moss was going to come to me about this before you did.” 

Roy paused for a moment to think about this, trying to figure out if he was offended or not. He was staring down at his lap, twiddling with his fingers. Just as he looked up and opened his mouth to say something, Moss appeared in the doorway. He was carrying a big cardboard box. He smiled at Jen, coming forward and placing the box on the bed next to her.

“The other stuff’s downstairs,” he said. As Jen turned away to look through the box, Moss braced himself against the bedframe and huffed out a few deep breaths. Roy giggled a little, giving his boyfriend a small look. Moss nodded in return. 

“Guys, you didn’t have to do this!” Jen exclaimed, looking up from the box. She lifted up a black baby grow that said “Version 1.0” in bright green writing. She chuckled under her breath. That was so them. 

“Jen, you just had a baby and didn’t know it,” Roy said, raising one eyebrow. “You need all the help you can get right now.” 

“There’s a pushchair downstairs as well,” Moss cut in. He straightened up. “As well as some toys, blankets, y’know… general baby stuff.” 

“Well thank you,” Jen said, unable to keep the smile off her face now. “It means a lot.” 

They were all quiet for a little while longer, Moss and Roy exchanging loving looks as Jen dug through the box of clothing. She guessed the little suits with the bow-ties were Moss’ doing. Ah, they were sweet anyway. Eventually the sound of crying started coming from downstairs, and not two minutes later Peter reappeared in the bedroom. 

“He wants you,” was all he said, handing their son back to his mother. Jen took him in her arms, Peter took the both and Moss and Roy took that as their cue to leave. 

Text me, Jen mouthed at Roy just before he left. Roy glanced back at his boyfriend, who was already halfway down the stairs, and nodded with a smile.

Chapter Text

1:34 a.m.

JennyWenny64: roy u awake

RoyBot165: its 1 in the morning what do u want 

JennyWenny64: sorry baby woke me up

JennyWenny64: tell me what ur gonna do

RoyBot165: what

JennyWenny64: with moss u idiot 

RoyBot165: u really wanna know that

JennyWenny64: ur disgusting 

JennyWenny64: i meant with proposing 

RoyBot165: idk

JennyWenny64: how do u not know 

RoyBot165: look its like half 1 in the morning

RoyBot165: i’ll talk to u tomorrow 

RoyBot165: before moss gets up 

JennyWenny64: k

JennyWenny64: wish me luck tryna sleep

RoyBot165: good luck lmao

6:30 a.m. 

RoyBot165: okay im awake now 

JennyWenny64: morning 

JennyWenny64: i’ve been up for an hour already

JennyWenny64: reggie threw up on us 

RoyBot165: bad time?

JennyWenny64: nah its fine 

JennyWenny64: did u think about it

RoyBot165: yh

RoyBot165: but i couldnt think of anything

RoyBot165: im useless

JennyWenny64: roy normally i would be happy to play to ur need for approval but im so tired

JennyWenny64: youll come up with something 

RoyBot165: like wat

JennyWenny64: idk

JennyWenny64: what was ur first thought 

RoyBot165: wdym

JennyWenny64: when u first thought about proposing

JennyWenny64: did u picture anything special 

RoyBot165: tbh u don’t wanna know what i was thinking at the time

JennyWenny64: ew

JennyWenny64: i stg i will make you change the baby next time u come over 

RoyBot165: kk sry

RoyBot165: really tho idk

RoyBot165: theres too many ways

JennyWenny64: what about just dinner

RoyBot165: too public

JennyWenny64: in the office 

RoyBot165: too boring

JennyWenny64: take him on holiday somewhere

RoyBot165: too different

JennyWenny64: okay fuck this 

Roy just felt himself lucky that Moss was a heavy sleeper when his phone’s ringtone began to blare. 

He quickly hopped out of bed, careful not to nudge his boyfriend too much. Slipping into the other room, he pressed the answer button and held the phone to his ear. 

“Really, Jen?” he groaned, still a little sleepy. Texting he could handle this early in the morning, calling he couldn’t. “I was in bed, you could’ve woken Moss up.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

“You’ve clearly never had to deal with Moss when he’s grouchy.” 

Oh yeah, he could hear her rolling her eyes down the phone. 

“Look, there’s so many different ways for you to propose,” Jen said, getting straight to the point. “I’m sure you can find one that works.” 

“But I have to get this right ,” Roy replied. He yawned, dragging himself through the living room and into the kitchen. As he grabbed the coffee machine, he held his phone to his ear with his shoulder. “I have to get a ring and a speech and--” 

At this point there was movement in the bedroom and Roy froze in what he was doing, eyes widening. Luckily a few seconds later everything fell silent again, but the Irishman still lowered his voice as he said, “yeah, all of that.” 

“When is Moss going to his mum’s next?” Jen asked. Roy made a face as he grabbed a mug from the cupboard. 

“Wednesday I think. Why?” 

“Come round here. I’ll help you look for a ring and stuff.” 

“Really? Are you sure?”

“If you bring groceries with you I’ll love you forever.” 

“Okay,” Roy said with a chuckle. “I’ll be there about seven?” 

“Bring food!” 

***

“So, why are you going to Jen’s again?” Moss asked. Roy shrugged a little, careful to keep his eyes and attention on the road lest he make some sort of facial expression that gave him away. 

“I’m just gonna drop some shopping off and keep her company for a bit,” he said, his voice almost troublingly level.

“But Peter’s there. She has company.” 

“Well different company, then.” 

Moss fell quiet after this, going back to his phone and his game. Roy’s jaw tightened and he gripped the steering wheel even harder. He couldn’t let Moss find out what he was doing. Then again, he didn’t want to be acting all suspicious: it still hadn’t been that long since they’d got back together. Really he wasn’t sure how to play it. God, he’d always been bad at hiding things. Even when he was two and tried to hide the fact that he’d drawn all over the wall of his bedroom with his sister’s best felt tips. 

“I’ll see you later?” Moss asked, giving his boyfriend a hopeful look as they pulled up outside his mum’s house. Roy smiled at him as he nodded. 

“Yeah, course.” 

They kissed quickly, and Moss grabbed his bag before getting out of the car. As was customary now, Roy watched him go into his mother’s house. As normal, Moss’ mother gave him a small wave and a smile. Roy returned the gesture. He waited until the front door closed before letting the panic in the pit of his stomach go and driving away. 

True to his word, he picked up groceries and Chinese food (Jen’s favourite) on his way to Jen’s. Peter greeted him at the door again, smiling at him and thanking him for the shopping. 

“Jen told me your plans,” Peter said as he led Roy upstairs again. He flashed him a smile. “Congratulations. I never would’ve thought you two would end up together when I first met you.” 

“Neither did I,” Roy said, chuckling. 

“And yet here we are.” 

They both paused at the top of the stairs, sharing a laugh. Peter went forward and knocked on the bedroom door. “Honey? Roy’s here, he brought food.” 

“Let him in!” Jen called. Peter stood back, allowing him to enter the room. 

Once again, Jen was cradling the baby in her arms. She was smiling down at her son, and only looked up when the door creaked as Roy closed it. Roy grinned at her, holding up the bag with the food in. She gave him a grateful look. 

“How’re you feeling?” Roy asked. Jen made a face, leaning over and putting Reggie down in his crib. 

“Well I’ve been bleeding for five days straight and I’ve barely slept, but my baby is adorable so I’m good,” she said. She began to smile again, resting her head on the edge of the crib. “You?” 

“I’m… not sure,” Roy replied. He settled himself down in the chair by the bed. “Thanks for letting me come round here.” 

“Did you bring your laptop?” 

Roy nodded, pulling it out of his bag. He placed it on the side. Jen looked at him, sitting up straight and reaching for the food. “So have you thought about it anymore?” she asked as she pulled out a box. 

“I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about it,” he said. “I’ve done some Googling but the suggestions were all the same. Useless.” 

“Sweetheart, you’ll figure it out soon,” she said through a mouthful of noodles. Roy quirked an eyebrow, reaching for his beef in black bean sauce. “This is Moss . You’ve known him for what…?” 

“Fourteen years.” 

“Exactly, fourteen years! Surely you can figure out some way to propose that he would enjoy?” 

Roy paused, biting his lip. Jen was right. He should have been able to figure this out by himself. He knew Moss better than almost anybody else. Why couldn’t he work it out?

If he were being completely honest, this was making him feel a bit like shit. He just felt… well, useless. He couldn’t even manage this simple thing. Desperately he wanted to make everything good, everything perfect, but every time he tried he only seemed to make things ten times worse. For God’s sake, because of him his boyfriend was in therapy and on anti-anxiety medication! Pursing his lips, he started to pick at his food. All of a sudden he wasn’t too hungry. 

“You okay?” Jen asked, furrowing her eyebrows at him. He started a little, looking up at her. 

“Yeah, fine,” he said. He coupled this with a very unconvincing smile. Jen narrowed her eyes. 

“Roy, they say that motherhood enhances the brain,” she said, her tone dry. “Don’t make me test that.” 

“Okay, fine,” Roy grumbled. He put his food down on the side, putting his hands in his pockets and stretching out as he stared down at his lap. “I’m just… worried, y’know? I want to get this right, and I always screw everything up so--” 

“Hang on,” Jen cut in, giving him a critical look. “What do you mean ‘screw everything up’ ?” 

“Well…” Roy trailed off as he scoured his memory for an example he could use that wouldn’t make Jen pity him too much. Unfortunately nothing suitable was coming to mind. He shook his head. “Look, it doesn’t matter, it’s just true.” 

“Is this still about what happened last year?” 

The Irishman winced. He closed his eyes, looking away to the side. God, he hated whenever this subject even came up. Having to drive Moss to and from his therapy session every week and watching him take his medication every evening only served as a reminder of the mistake he’d made. 

“It’s fine,” he murmured. 

“Roy, you can’t keep blaming yourself for that,” Jen said. She put her food down on the side, reaching forward and resting her hand on his arm. He pulled away, shaking his head. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he said, 

“There was no way you could have known!” 

“The same day it happened, we got a letter threatening us!” Roy shot back. His tone was angry, and he clearly hadn’t meant to say this. “I ignored it and put it in the bin because I didn’t want to scare him, and look what happened! Even if I’d just picked him up, I could’ve stopped it! I could’ve stopped it happening!” 

“Roy…” Jen whispered. She didn’t know quite what to say. She leaned forward, and had just opened her mouth to speak when the baby began to cry. Roy let out a deep breath through his nose, shaking his head and sitting back. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, sounding thoroughly miserable. 

“It’s fine,” she said quickly. She picked the baby up out of his crib, holding him against her. It didn’t work: in fact, no amount of rocking seemed to be helping. He didn’t need changing, she’d only fed him half an hour ago… she was going spare trying to stop him. After twenty minutes, in which she was surprised that Roy hadn’t upped and left, she turned to her friend with a desperate look in her eyes. “Look, can you please take him? Just for a minute?”

“S-sure,” Roy stammered. He let Jen hand Reggie to him, careful to support his head and neck. “Hello, little man,” he cooed, careful to lower his voice. Reggie paused in his screaming, looking up at the person who was holding him. “I’m Roy. You probably don’t know me, but I work with your mum. You really sprung yourself on us, huh?” The baby gurgled a little, yawning. “Yeah, that’s okay. Go back to sleep, buddy.” 

Sure enough, not a minute later the baby was happily sleeping again. Roy put him back in his crib, giving Jen a shy smile. 

“Wow,” she murmured. Roy watched her worriedly. After a moment, she bent her head and began to cry. “How come you can get him to stop crying and I can’t?” 

“Hey, hey, Jen, it’s alright,” Roy said quickly, reaching forward and putting his arm around her. She shook her head, continuing to sob. “He was probably just scared! Yeah, I mean, look at me! He probably wanted me to shut up and go away!” 

Strangely enough to Roy, that actually worked. Jen looked up, laughing a little. She wiped her eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“Sorry,” she said, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling. “It’s just hormones.” 

“You have no need to apologise,” Roy said. When she shook her head, he gave her a stern look. “Jen, seriously. Don’t worry about it.” 

Getting up out of the chair, he grabbed his laptop and sat next to her on the bed. He opened it up and looked over at her. “Now c’mon, help me find a ring to propose to my bloody boyfriend with before I have to go pick him up. We’ll sort out logistics later.” 

Jen laughed and nodded. 

***

Over the next four weeks, every Wednesday night Roy would drop Moss off at his mother’s house, and would go round to Jen’s. Jen was starting to be more up and about now, and the baby was developing beautifully. He had a little shock of dark hair now, thin and downy but still sweet. Roy felt a little proud when he came round one week and the baby was wearing one of the baby grows that he and Moss had picked out together. 

“Did the ring come?” he called as he walked in the door (Jen and Peter had told him to just let himself in now). 

“Yes!” Jen shouted back. She sounded excited. “We’re in the living room!” 

He came in, a smile on his face. Reggie was in his rocker, already sound asleep. Peter and Jen were sitting on the sofa together, curled up watching the telly. On the coffee table was a small box. Roy’s eyes lit up and he rushed forward, grabbing the box. He sat down on the other sofa, cupping the box in his hands. 

“This is really happening,” he whispered a little reverently. He glanced up at the other two. They had now paused the telly and were watching him, smiles on their faces. He turned the box over in his hands before taking a deep breath and opening the box up. 

The ring was perfect. It wasn’t anything special, just a plain gold ring, but to Roy it was just so special. He couldn’t wait to give it to his boyfriend. 

“What do you think?” he asked, passing it over to Jen. Her and Peter nodded, and Jen smiled at her friend. 

“It’s lovely, Roy,” she said. 

“I still haven’t figured out how to ask him yet,” the Irishman sighed, sitting back against the sofa as he took the ring back. He placed it carefully into the box. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really not sure sweetheart,” Jen said. She unpaused the telly again. “We’ve had a fun week, though. Got some alphabet and number magnets for the fridge. Reggie probably won’t use them until he’s older but--” 

At this point Jen stopped talking, as Roy had gasped loudly. She looked over and he had his hands over his mouth. 

“That’s perfect!” he exclaimed, looking over to her. She and Peter glanced at each other, confused. Roy jumped up, coming over and pulling her into a one-armed hug. “Jen, thank you, thank you!” 

Roy straightened back up and rushed out of the room. Jen craned her neck, watching him put his shoes on. 

“Where are you going?” she called. Roy looked up at her. He was grinning. 

“The office.” 

“What?” 

“I’ve got a proposal to plan!” 

And with that, he was gone.

Chapter Text

It was nearing three in the morning, and Roy was struggling with spelling. 

Now, this was not normally what Roy struggled with at three in morning, if he was struggling with anything at this time. However, on this particular morning (a Wednesday morning, to be exact) he was sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, surrounded by colourful letter magnets and his brain didn’t seem to want to work. 

“Come on, come on…” he murmured to himself, running a hand through his hair. It was greasy, and really needed a wash. He’d been meant to go for a shower that night, but he and Moss had got a little… ahem… distracted , shall we say. Not that Roy was complaining, of course. “I just need another r …” 

Reaching forward, he began to scrabble through the pile of letters. In a panic, he’d ordered twenty-two packets instead of two, and the seller had just emptied them all into a cardboard box. Given that he didn’t even have the kitchen light on, this was exceedingly difficult to do. This blasted r was doing his nut in! He had one, he just needed the other on. This was for the word “marry” , he couldn’t exactly afford to fuck this one up. 

He was tired, so tired! Quite happily he could’ve gone back to bed and sorted this out in the morning, but part of him desperately wanted this all to be perfect, and it was that part of him that seemed to be controlling his ability to sleep. He sighed, dropping the letter he was holding and putting his head in his hands. 

“Roy? What are you doing?” 

The Irishman looked quickly up, trying to push the letters behind him as fast as possible. 

“What’re you doin’ up?” he asked, trying his best to sound all tired and sleepy. It wasn’t too hard. He squinted at Moss in the darkness. His boyfriend was standing in the doorway, one hand rubbing his eye and the other holding his glasses loose at his side. His hair looked simply insane. 

“Brian,” Moss simply said. Roy paused, confused. Ah yes, now he could hear it. It was Wednesday morning, of course. Brian’s wife must have finally had enough of his cheating and confronted him as he came back. He’d been so in his own little world that he hadn’t even registered it. 

“C’me here,” he murmured, gesturing to his boyfriend. Moss came over and sat down next to him, putting his glasses on and resting his head against Roy’s shoulder. Roy slipped his arm around the other’s shoulders. He knew that Moss didn’t like people fighting. 

“Have you ever been cheated on?” Moss asked after a minute or so of quiet, his voice low. Roy made a non-committal noise, shrugging. 

“A few times,” he replied quietly. 

“What was it like?” 

“It sucked. Big time. I mean, sometimes you kinda expect it, but there were a couple times where I didn’t expect it, and… yeah, that was bad.” 

“I’m sorry,” Moss said suddenly. Roy gave him a strange look. 

“Why?” he asked. Moss looked up at him, his eyes wide and questioning. “‘S not your fault it happened.” 

“I know,” Moss said with a sigh. He rested his head back in the crook of Roy’s neck. “I just… I don’t know, feel bad for you.” 

Roy smiled a little. This had reminded him just how sweet his boyfriend could be sometimes. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, turning his head to the side and pressing a kiss to Moss’ head. “Now c’mon, let’s go back to bed.” 

Moss nodded, and as Roy followed him to the bedroom he thanked the Lord that his boyfriend was very unobservant when he was half-asleep. 

***

It turned out finding the letters he needed was much easier at half past six in the morning and the light was starting to filter through the kitchen window. It was the middle of July, and it was starting to get warmer and warmer now. It was quite nice, Roy supposed. The sun definitely helped in seeing which letter was which. Yes, he’d finally managed to spell out those perfect words, and now he was positioning them on the fridge, trying to get them perfect. 

The ring weighed heavy in his pyjama trouser pocket. It was a little hot to be wearing them, really, but he needed the pockets. As he positioned the last letter, he leaned back to admire his handiwork. Oh, it was perfect. He grinned to himself, folding his arms as he looked at it. 

Only ten minutes more until Moss woke up. 

To distract himself, he made himself a cup of extra-strong coffee and clicked the morning news on. Nothing too interesting was happening. He couldn’t help but keep glancing back at the kitchen. The letters were so clear on their white fridge. The nerves were starting to build in the pit of his stomach now, mixing with the coffee in some sort of devilish concoction. He gulped nervously, slipping his hand into his pocket and holding onto the ring for dear life. 

About twenty minutes later, Moss stumbled into the room. He murmured a quick “good morning” to his boyfriend before turning and going into the kitchen. Roy held his breath. His fingers tightened around the ring box. Was it time? Oh God, he was so nervous. What was he going to--

“Have we got anything in particular to do at work today?” Moss asked quietly as he came back into the living room. He was holding a glass of squash. 

“No, um, not really, I don’t think,” Roy replied. Moss made a small noise, coming over and sitting down next to his boyfriend. Roy bit the inside of his cheek, taking a few subtly deep breaths before saying, “sweetheart, can you go and get me cereal?” 

“I just sat down,” Moss whined. When Roy gave him the puppy-dog eyes, however, he soon relented, nodding and getting up. Roy held his breath again. When he heard the fridge open, he really thought he was going to hear his boyfriend say something, but there was nothing. A minute or so later, Moss returned holding two bowls of cereal. He passed one to Roy. 

“Thank you,” Roy managed to say. 

As they sat together and ate their cereal, Roy couldn’t help but speculate whether his boyfriend was simply fucking with him. Surely Moss wouldn’t do that? He could barely bring himself to eat. After about half a bowl, he gave up and put his bowl on the side. 

“Are you okay?” Moss asked, giving him a concerned look. Roy started from where he had been staring blankly at the television. 

“What?” he mumbled. 

“You didn’t finish your breakfast.” 

“Fine, yeah I’m fine,” the Irishman said quickly. Moss gave him a disbelieving look. 

“I think we’ve got some apple juice in the fridge,” he said. “I’ll get you some.” 

“Just check if we’ve got any crisps on top of the fridge!” Roy called as his boyfriend got up and went into the kitchen. He held his breath, getting up and creeping behind Moss. This had to be it. 

“What’s all this colourful stuff on the front of the fridge?” Moss asked. He glanced backwards. Roy was standing just in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. He was struggling to keep the grin off his face now. 

“Just read it,” he said. 

“Okay…” Moss said. He gave him a strange look before looking back at the fridge. “Maurice Moss, will you ma--” 

At this point Moss stopped dead. He turned and looked at Roy, eyes wide and mouth open. Roy smiled at him, nodding. 

“Keep reading,” he said. Moss nodded, turning back for a moment. He stopped, taking a deep breath.

“Maurice Moss, will you marry me?” 

When he turned back Roy was on one knee, the ring box popped open and held forward. Moss shook his head, putting his hand to his mouth. “Oh my gosh,” he said, his voice hushed. 

“I love you,” Roy said. He was starting to get a little choked up himself now. “And it would mean everything to me if you would do me the honour of being my husband?” 

There was a long pause. It was such a long pause that Roy’s legs actually started to hurt a little bit. He kept his eyes glued on Moss, who had pretty much completely frozen. After a minute or so Moss came back to himself. Slowly, he nodded. 

“Yes,” was all he said. 

Roy smiled wider than he’d ever smiled before. He got up, rushing forward and pulling Moss into a tight hug. Moss buried his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder, starting to cry a little. 

“I love you,” Roy whispered. “I love you so much.” 

When they broke away, Roy took Moss’ hand and slipped the ring onto his finger. Moss smiled at his now fiance, glancing down at the ring.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. His voice was still very quiet. 

“Don’t worry, I asked your mother’s permission,” Roy said a little jokingly. Moss giggled, and then made a small ahh noise. 

“That explains why she was acting like that,” he said, mostly to himself. Then he smiled at Roy again. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, baby.” 

They hugged again. 

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

Chapter Text

“I still can’t believe we’re engaged,” Moss said quietly, his voice filled with awe. They were in the car on the way to work, and Moss was looking down at the ring. There was a small smile on his face. Roy grinned at his fiance. “And I can’t believe my mum knew about it!” 

“Every single part,” Roy replied, smirking. Moss chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I love you,” he said. “And I can’t wait to marry you.” 

“How are we gonna tell people?” Roy said after a moment of quiet. Moss made a small noise, shrugging. 

“What about the internet?” he said. Roy glanced over at him. 

“Really?” he asked. “I would have thought you’d want to do it in person.” 

“Well obviously we can call the people we want to tell personally first,” Moss replied. He was still smiling, now messing a little with his engagement ring. “But the internet seems very… I don’t know, ‘us’ , as Jen would say.” 

“Okay,” the Irishman said with a smile. Moss grinned back. “What were you thinking? Friendface, Jitter, Instagram?” 

“Jitter,” Moss said after a moment. “That’ll reach the most people the fastest.” 

“Clever, just like always,” Roy said. He smiled at his fiance as he pulled into work’s car park. Moss blushed, looking up at him. Once Roy had stopped the car, they kissed quickly before getting out and heading into the office. 

It was barely nine a.m, so people were only just starting to trickle in to work. A few smiled at them as they walked through the lobby, but other than that they were hardly even noticed as they made their way down to the basement. 

“We’ve got to call your parents, let them know,” Moss said. Roy nodded, going over to his desk and dumping his bag. “And my mum. And Morgan.” 

“We will, we will,” Roy chuckled. He watched his fiance potter around the office, straightening up posters and the coat rack and his desk before holding his arms out. Obligingly Moss came over and wrapped his arms around his fiance, resting his head on his partner’s chest. “I love you,” Roy murmured. 

“I love you too.” 

There was silence for a few moments as they stood there, just hugging. Then: 

“We really need to call your parents.” 

“Okay, okay!” Roy said with a laugh. He untangled himself from his fiance before going around and sitting himself down in his office chair. He gave Moss a look as he reached for his office phone and dialled his parents’ number. He raised one eyebrow as they listened to it ring. “You okay?” 

Moss was suddenly looking rather nervous. He was chewing on his thumbnail as he stared at the phone. Roy’s face softened. He reached forward and took his fiance’s hand. “It’s gonna be fine. They love you, remember?” 

Moss nodded, but he didn’t seem any more at ease. 

“Hiya poppet!” Roy’s mum said as she answered the phone. Moss and Roy glanced at each other. 

“Mum, Moss and I have some news,” Roy said. He grinned at Moss. 

“Oo, tell me!” Joan squealed. Roy took a deep breath. He squeezed his fiance’s hand. 

“We’re engaged.” 

The resulting high-pitched squealing was enough for Moss to make a face and scramble over to the other side of the room. Roy chuckled, shaking his head. His mother was utterly mental . 

“Tell me everything!” she screamed once she had somewhat composed herself. “When!? How!?” 

“Mum, we’re at work at the moment,” Roy said. He glanced over at Moss, who was looking a little better. “We just wanted to let you know before we put it on Jitter.”

“Thank you sweetheart,” she said. 

“I’ll call you later?” 

“Of course. Oh, I have so many people to phone!” 

Roy laughed. 

“Okay mum. Bye.”

Roy hung up the phone with a laugh. He looked over at Moss, a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eye. “Well she seemed happy,” he said. 

“She did,” Moss replied, coming back over. He went to his desk, sitting down. 

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something?” Roy said. Moss nodded, clicking around on his computer. Roy waited for him to finish what he was doing and for him to look up at him. “I was thinking-- and we don’t have to if you don’t want to!” 

“What is it, Roy?” Moss asked. His voice was filled with concern. 

“Well I was thinking, our place is kinda… small. I only got it because I thought it was gonna be some sort of bachelor pad. We’re moving forward in our relationship--” 

“You got that from the internet.” 

“Everyone got that from the internet.” Roy shot his fiance a small glare. It was half-hearted at best, though. “You know what I mean. I meant maybe we could, I don’t know, move house? Buy a place together?” 

“What, um…” Moss said after a moment of silence. His voice was quiet. He stopped for a second, looking down at his desk before looking back at his fiance. “What sort of place were you thinking?” 

“Maybe a nice big flat?” Roy said with a shrug. “I’m not sure. But it would be nice to have a bigger place.” 

“What about Douglas’ place?” Moss asked. He began to click around on his computer again. “You said it was a good place when you went round there.” 

Roy made a face. 

“I don’t think I’d be able to live there. The thought of what happened in some of those rooms…” 

They both shuddered. Moss nodded making a face himself as he turned towards his computer screen. 

“What about a flat like that, thought?” he said. He didn’t look up. “Nice building, spacious place… it could work.” 

There was a pause. 

“Yeah,” Roy said with a smile. Moss looked up from his computer, a look of slight surprise on his face. 

“Really?” he said. Roy nodded. Moss let out a small laugh, nodding. “Okay. I guess we’re going to move!” 

“We’re making so many decisions today,” Roy said, smirking. Moss chuckled. He wheeled his chair over to sit next to his fiance before leaning over and kissing him gently on the lips. 

“Just one more to make,” he said once they’d broken away. 

Roy grinned, grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and reached for his phone.

Chapter Text

Four months later 

Roy had always had the idea that house hunting was supposed to be hard . He didn’t exactly know why. Every time he’d moved somewhere new he had pretty much just moved into the cheapest place he could find. Most of the time he didn’t even go and look at them. 

Thing was, this was the place that he and Moss were going to buy together. It was going to be where they lived together and where (if all went well) they might raise their future child. He wanted it to be perfect. Because of that, he had been convinced that it was going to be rather difficult to get right. 

However, in the end it had been very easy. They had only visited two flats when they walked into one and they had both known immediately that this was going to be their home. It was three bedrooms, spacious, close to a park and a tube station in Central London (so convenient for work), even had a little balcony area… and it was very, very expensive. So expensive, in fact, that the two of them had been considering not even putting in an offer and just trying to find something in the suburbs when the estate agent had come over and told them that the seller had found out who they were and was insisting on giving them a discounted price. So, after talking it over for a while, they put down their deposit and set about moving in. 

Given the opportunity, the two of them had gone a little bit crazy and had decided to basically buy entirely new furniture. There had been an entire day at Ikea, much to Moss’ delight. They’d even picked up a big stuffed shark for Reggie. The little boy had laughed and laughed at it, smiling up at his godfathers. Jen has asked them back in September. 

It was now November. Nearly all of their possessions had been packed up into boxes and shipped to their new flat. All they had left was the sofa, the TV, their playstation and a few basic things for their kitchen. This was one of their last nights in their current flat, and they were making the most of it by… well, packing up the rest of their things. 

“Don’t forget you’ve got therapy tomorrow,” Roy said as he grabbed another book off the shelf and put it in the box next to him. Moss nodded. He was sitting on the bed, flicking through an old photo album of Roy’s. Roy looked up at his fiance, his face softening. “Hey, you okay? You’ve been quiet today.” 

“I’m fine,” Moss said, sounding a little off with the fairies. After a moment he looked up. When he noticed Roy watching him worriedly, he gave his fiance a smile. “Really, Roy. I’m okay.” 

“You know I worry about you,” Roy said. He got up and moved to sit next to his boyfriend on the bed. He wrapped his arm around him. Moss chuckled, nodding. 

“I love you,” Moss replied. Roy grinned at him. 

“Love you too,” he said.

“Hey, um, I know it might be a bit weird, and you don’t have to say yes, but I was wondering…” Moss trailed off her, making a frustrated noise and looking down at the photo album. Roy squeezed his shoulders a little. “Um…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Roy said. He was starting to get worried now. He watched his fiance carefully. 

“I-was-wondering-will-you-come-to-therapy-with-me?” Moss blurted all at once. It took Roy a moment to decode what his fiance had said, but once he had it took him aback a little. Him, going to therapy? Something about it just didn’t sit right with him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about therapy as a whole. Deep down he knew that therapy was a good thing, and that it helped people recover and become mentally healthier, but for him himself to go? No, it just… didn’t feel right. He bit his lip, glancing down at his lap. 

“Sweetheart, I-I appreciate the offer, but, erm…” he trailed off, struggling with what to say. Moss’ shoulders slumped and he shifted, breaking away from his fiance. 

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, his voice low and dejected. “It was a silly suggestion, it was just something Dr Cavanagh mentioned last week--” 

“Wait,” Roy interrupted before he could stop himself. Moss stopped mid-sentence, his face assuming a slightly terrified expression. The Irishman made a conscious effort to lower his voice, reaching forward and taking his fiance’s hand. “Your therapist suggested it?” 

“Well we were talking about you and she said she’d like to meet you, have you sit in on a session,” Moss explained. “She was worried I wouldn’t want to, but I told her that I love you and don’t have anything to hide from you.” 

“Sweetie…” Roy said. He didn’t quite know what to say. He forced himself to smile, nodding. “Yeah, okay.” 

Moss’ eyes lit up. He began to smile again, hopping over towards his fiance.

“Will you?” he asked excitedly. Roy nodded. He chose to keep his apprehension to himself as Moss surged forward and pulled him into a hug. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you! You won’t regret it, I promise.” 

Roy wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t want to argue with his fiance right now. 

***

All night Roy had been up worrying about how the therapy session was going to go. Google had actually been rather unhelpful for once: instead of giving him a concise answer he had just found out about lots of different types of therapy. Cognitive behavioural, dialectical behavioral, humanistic, psychodynamic… He didn’t even know what type of therapy Moss was in . They all looked confusing and difficult. Oh God, he was dreading it. The session wasn’t even until the afternoon. They were supposed to be going to their new place, attempting to build a set of Ikea drawers (and then inevitably calling Jen and getting her to walk them through it), and then going out for some lunch with Morgan, Leanne and Isabella. He didn’t know if he was going to be able to handle all of that whilst being anxious and sleep deprived. He’d probably end up snapping at his fiance, screaming at some unassuming Ikea furniture and then crashing on the sofa in front of the telly.

He couldn’t do that. Not today. This was something that Moss wanted him to do, and would probably help him with whatever his therapist was trying to do. He kind of couldn’t get out of it. He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he shut his internet tab and glanced at the time. When did it get to six thirty in the morning!? Just ten minutes ago it had been two a.m! He slammed his laptop shut, glancing at his fiance. 

Moss was fast asleep, curled on his side towards him. He always looked so sweet when he was asleep. Roy yawned, putting his pillows down and forcing himself to lie down. Even lying there in the (semi) darkness, he couldn’t get to sleep. He shifted onto his side so he could look at his fiance. Sighing as softly as he could, he shook his head and tried to get a little sleep before they had to get up. 

***

“I swear to God I’m gonna go to fucking Sweden and kill Ikea’s head of fucking product design myself!” 

Roy threw his screwdriver down in agitation, flinging the small part across the room. Moss gave him a disapproving look, getting up from his cross-legged position on the floor and going over to grab the part. 

“Is someone sleepy and cranky?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his fiance’s head. Said fiance grumbled, folding his arm across his chest. 

“I’m not a child,” he said grouchily. 

“I know,” Moss replied. He sat back down next to his fiance. “I was making a joke.” 

“Sorry, I just… didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” Roy sighed, leaning over and resting his head on Moss’ shoulder. Moss put his arms around his partner. 

“Are you going to tell me why or not? It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just like to know what I’m dealing with.” 

Roy chuckled, shaking his head. 

“No, I’ll tell you,” he said. “I guess I was just a bit… I don’t know, nervous?” 

“About what?” 

“The therapy session later today.” 

“I suppose that’s understandable,” Moss replied. He snuggled a little closer to his fiance, looking up at him. “I was nervous the first time I went to therapy.” 

“Oh yeah, with Mu--Dr Mendel?” 

Moss let out a giggle as Roy’s cheeks flushed red. 

“It was strange, at first,” he said. “I was never quite sure what to say.”

“But… this is you ,” Roy said. He gave his fiance a slightly strange look. “You always know what to say.” 

Moss made a small noise, shrugging. He moved away, picking up a part of the dresser and grabbing a screwdriver. 

“I guess you’ll understand once you’ve been to a session,” he simply said. 

***

Roy’s anxiety really started to mount when they pulled up outside the therapist’s office. 

Normally Moss would just jump out of the car here, and then Roy would go and waste time for an hour waiting to pick him up. But this time, he was expected to park the car and just march in there with his fiance like nothing was wrong with him being there. It was not right, not at all. 

His stomach was swirling and his palms were sweating. He was gripping the steering wheel as hard as he could, so hard that his knuckles were turning white. He could practically feel Moss’ eyes on him. Really he was doing his very best to ignore that fact, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. Breathing, too, felt difficult. And they weren’t even out of the car yet! 

Maybe, if he could just shift the entire focus of the session onto Moss then it would be just about bearable. Then again, it was Moss who was paying however much an hour to be treated by this woman… if she wanted him here then there was clearly some sort of underlying ulterior motive at work. Lord knows Moss wouldn’t have worked it out. What if she wanted to get between them? Now he couldn’t have that. If this woman thought she could just--

“ROY! You’re going to crash into that wall!” 

That brought him back into reality. He slammed on the brakes, the car stopping just before the wall. Moss shot him a worried look as they both fell back against their seats. Moss shot him a worried look as they both fell back against their seats. Noticing, Roy just shook his head and turned off the car. 

As they walked into the clinic, Roy couldn’t seem to stop shaking. He was trembling from head to toe. His legs felt like jelly and he couldn’t even bring himself to hold Moss’ hand. They moved further and further into the building, he couldn’t escape, the doctor was coming out of her office--

“I have to go,” he mumbled. Before anyone (namely Moss) could stop him, he turned on his heel and sprinted down the hallway. When he spotted a bathroom he threw himself into it, rushing into a stall and not even bothering to lock the door as he threw himself down onto the floor and did his very best to keep his lunch firmly inside his stomach. This is shit, this is shit, this is complete and utter shit was all he could think as he dry-heaved again. He propped his head up with his arm, groaning softly. 

“Um, hello? Are you okay?” 

This wasn’t a voice he knew. It was a soft voice, sort of comforting in a strange way. He looked up and over to the door, where the voice was coming from. It was a young looking person, standing at the doorway. There was a lanyard round their neck. Oh God, they worked here. 

“I’m fine,” he murmured, despite the fact there was about a two-percent chance of them actually believing him. 

“I’m Teddy,” they said, coming forward. “Doctor Cavanagh’s assistant. Your boyfriend wanted to come after you, but Sandra and I thought it was probably best if I came.” 

“Fiance,” Roy said. He swallowed down another gag. 

“Fiance?” 

“We’re engaged.” 

“Oh, congratulations! I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” 

“Moss didn’t tell you?” Roy asked as he forced himself to stand. He went over to the sinks, turning on the water and splashing his face. “He’s told literally everybody we know.” 

Teddy laughed, leaning against the wall. 

“Have you two set a date?” they asked. Roy shook his head. 

“Not yet. But we will.” 

“Back to my original question, though: are you okay?” 

Roy pursed his lips, gripping the edge of the sink. He took a shaky breath as he looked down at his shoes. 

“No,” he whispered. 

“What’s up?” Teddy asked. 

“I don’t know! It’s just…” he stopped, sighing frustratedly. He slammed his hands against the sink. Teddy reached forward and put their hand over his.

“It’s okay,” they said quietly. “How are you feeling?” 

Roy had to stop for a moment to think about this. What… was he feeling? He always hated being asked this question, but always felt obligated to answer. 

“Scared?” he said after a moment, sounding rather unsure about it. His voice was breaking.  “Not wanting to face anything that’s possibly gonna get brought up?” 

“Are you sure you want to come in?” Teddy asked. “Because you’re under no obligation. It’s up to you and no-one else.” 

There was a moment of quiet. 

“No, I’ll come in,” Roy said with a sigh. 

“Are you sure?” 

“For now. Once I’m there--” 

He cut himself off, pursing his lips and nodding. Teddy gave him a small smile, and the two of them made their way out of the bathroom. They led Roy down the corridor, stopping at the end in front of a door.

“You can go in whenever you want,” Teddy reminded him before standing aside. Roy took a deep breath and headed into the room. 

Dr Cavanagh’s office was essentially everything Roy had ever pictured a psychiatrist’s office to be. When Dr Mendel had been in the building (so long ago now), he’d never actually been in her office, and so his imagination for years had run wild. There were models of brains, dark oak bookshelves that wrapped around the whole room, even a bespoke leather chaise lounge. There was a big desk, and then a chair in the middle of the room. Sitting on the chair was the woman who Roy presumed to be Dr Sandra Cavanagh. She didn’t look like his mother, thank God, but she was an older lady in a stern suit and an oddly kind face. Moss was sitting on a chair just in front of the chaise lounge (Roy knew that his fiance found the feel of leather to be unpleasant and overwhelming to his senses). There was an empty seat next to him. 

“Hi Roy,” the doctor said. Her voice was soft. “Can I call you Roy?” 

The Irishman nodded dumbly. The psychiatrist gestured for him to sit and he quickly did so. “I invited you here today so you could see how therapy works, and how to better understand your partner and his needs.” 

“So I don’t have to say anything?” he asked hopefully. As he said this he tried to shift forward in his seat by overshot, and almost launched himself onto the floor. He could feel himself blushing as he caught his balance. Dr Cavanagh shook her head. 

“Out of curiosity, have you ever had any formal diagnoses?” she asked. Roy shook his head. She made a small noise,noting something down in her little book. When she looked up, she smiled at him. “Don’t feel like you have to sit there. Feel free to get up and roam.” 

Roy didn’t need telling twice. Immediately he got up and headed to the opposite side of the room, going right up to the bookshelves. Moss watched his finance for a moment before turning back to Dr Cavanagh. 

“I promise he’s lovely,” he said a little anxiously. She laughed a little, nodding. 

“Remember, you don’t have to prove your partner’s worth to anybody,” she said gently. Moss nodded. “As long as you love him and the relationship is healthy that’s all you need.” 

“Yes. Thank you.” 

“So, have you had a good week?” she asked. Moss made a small noise. 

“Relatively.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Well, on the one hand we’ve been getting ready to move into our new flat.” Moss paused, biting his lip. “But on the other hand it’s a big change.” 

“Do you feel like this has created anxiety for you?” she asked. Moss shrugged a little, folding his arms. She leaned forward. “Okay, let’s look at it in a different way. When you think about things changing, how do you feel?” 

“Like there’s butterflies in my stomach,” Moss replied. “And then those butterflies get eaten by rats, and then they get eaten by cats, and then they get eaten by various other animals until I’m sitting there with a dinosaur in my abdomen trying to crush me to death.” 

“Okay,” Dr Cavanagh said encouragingly. “When those animals are there, what are you thinking?”

“I guess it starts with thinking about one thing changing,” Moss said after a moment. “And then I start thinking about what can go wrong. It’s normally little things, like what if I forget to pick something up, but then it grows and I start thinking that something serious is going to happen and it’s going to end in injury or death.” 

“Okay, let’s take a look at this from a different light,” Dr Cavanagh said. This grounded Moss a little, who had been starting to look a little distressed. “Keeping with the metaphor of animals… you said it starts with butterflies, yes?” Moss nodded. “Well, how about devising a butterfly net?”

“What do you mean?” Moss asked, tilting his head to the side. Unable to help himself, he glanced over to Roy. His fiance was holding a big book and was leafing through the pages, squinting at the writing on them in confusion. He looked back to the psychiatrist. 

“You could use a net to protect the butterflies from being eaten,” she explained. “The net could be talking your worries out, doing a calming activity, any sort of coping mechanism that works for you. It will stop your thoughts from spiralling.” 

“That… makes a lot of sense,” Moss said. He nodded to himself. Then he smiled. “Thank you.”

“That’s absolutely fine, Moss.” 

“Hey, why is the writing in this book so small?” Roy called from the other side of the room. The other two turned to look at him. He was struggling to hold up a hulking book. Dr Cavanagh smiled at him. 

“That’s the DSM Five,” she said. “The manual which names every known mental condition.” 

“Cool!” Roy said, his eyes lighting up. 

“Do you struggle to read small writing?” she asked. The Irishman shrugged a little. 

“Eh, sometimes. It’s not too bad.” 

“Okay,” she said, scribbling a little something down. “I’ll let you get back to what you’re doing.” She turned back to Moss. “So, it’s been about a year since the attack.” 

At this, a muscle in Moss’ jaw tightened. He nodded a little, looking away to the side. Dr Cavanagh noticed, and immediately wrote something down. 

“I mean, I know they’re in prison,” Moss said. Unconsciously he began to clench and unclench his fist on his knee. “But something deep down keeps telling me that something’s going to happen.” 

“You came off your meds about a month ago, correct?” 

“Yeah.” 

“How do you feel about that?” 

“It’s been okay. I’ve been using the coping techniques we went over,” Moss said. He glanced back at Roy. “Roy helps when the nightmares get bad.” 

“You still experience nightmares?” 

“Sometimes. They’re so scary, it’s just like everything happening all over again.” 

As Moss continued to talk, Roy’s focus sharply turned from the big book with the annoyingly small letters to his fiancé. He knew Moss still had nightmares, but hearing about it first hand… that was entirely new. Already he could feel the tears welling up. It happened every time he heard Moss talk about anything sad. As quietly as he could, he crept along the bookcase until he reached the door. When he looked back over the room, he caught Dr Cavanagh’s eye. She gave him a small nod. He took his cue and ran out of the room. 

After a good cry in the car where he was pretty sure everybody who drove by was judging him, he began to feel a little better. Of course something still stung and his feelings of guilt over the previous year’s attack had come back strong, but he was better. More stable. 

To be honest, from what he’d seen, therapy wasn’t all that bad. What he’d seen seemed more like a normal conversation that offered constructive and practical solutions. Would it really be that bad for him to try it again, on his own this time? Taking a deep shuddering breath, he wiped his eyes on the back of his hands. Yes. He would be okay. 

Despite the fact that there was another twenty-five minutes until Moss emerged from the clinic, it was still evident that Roy had been crying. As soon as he got in the car, Moss turned to his fiance and wrapped his arms around him. 

“Are you okay?” he murmured. 

“Yeah,” Roy replied quietly. He gripped his fiance tighter, burying his nose in his partner’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Moss leant back for a moment, regarding him carefully. 

“Are you sure?” 

Roy laughed a little. He reached forward, adjusting Moss’ glasses (they had gone a little askew when they had hugged). 

“I’m sure, baby.” 

Moss smiled at him. 

“Shall we go finish packing up the flat?” 

“That sounds lovely, darling.” 

***

Two days later, they left their flat for the last time. 

The people who had claimed their old furniture (they’d put it all online, saying it was free to anyone willing to collect it) had been and went. Almost everything, save their games consoles, at the new flat was new. As of yet, the only thing delivered there was their mattress, various Ikea cabinets, the kettle and the microwave. Moss had broken out the old mini fridge from the loft at his mum’s place to keep their perishables until their actual fridge got delivered, but other than that the place was just cluttered with boxes. 

“Cheers to our new home,” Roy proclaimed, holding up his wine glass. They were both sat in a gap on the living room floor, takeaway boxes set out in front of them. Roy was a little tipsy, having already had a whole bottle of wine. Moss giggled, clinking his glass of sparkling apple juice with Roy’s. They both paused, drinking. 

“So what do you want to do?” Moss asked, putting his glass down. “It’s not like there’s a TV we can watch.” 

This was true. Strangely enough, though, the internet was already set up. 

“Why don’t we talk about the weddin’?” Roy asked. He downed the last of the wine in his glass. “I mean, it’s been four months and we haven’t really planned… well, anything .” 

“Okay,” Moss said. He tucked his legs underneath him, swivelling on the lino to face his fiance properly. “What about the wedding do you want to talk about?” 

“How about the date?” Roy asked. 

“That’s a good start, I guess.” Moss paused to pick up a slice of pizza and take a bite. “Have you got one in mind?” 

“What about our anniversary?” Roy said after a moment. Moss thought about it for a moment, scrunching his nose up, before shaking his head. 

“That’s Reggie’s birthday,” he said. “And it’s his first as well. Jen should be at our wedding and that will make it awkward.” 

“Okay…” Roy mumbled, trailing off. There was a long stretch of silence. 

“What about on my dad’s anniversary?” Moss said quietly. Roy looked up at him, giving him a careful look. 

“Are you sure?” he said. “That day holds a lot for you.” 

“I know,” Moss replied. He glanced down at his lap. “But… it’ll be like my dad’s there, with us. It might finally let me, I don’t know, put this issue to bed.” 

Roy shifted forward a little, reaching round and pulling his fiance closer. Immediately Moss snuggled into him. 

“Okay,” the Irishman said, kissing his fiance on the cheek. Moss smiled. “So that’s the date sorted.” 

“What are we going to do about the first dance?” Moss asked. Roy made a small noise. 

“Well, can you dance?” 

“Yes!” Moss said indignantly. He scrambled up, and began to do some awful eighties dance. Roy couldn’t help but giggle, looking down at the lino and closing his eyes. 

“Sweetheart, I know you think you can dance...” Roy said. He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as Moss pounced on him, putting his hand over his fiance’s mouth. Roy laughed, moving Moss off of him. “Okay, sorry. But I can’t dance. We’ll have to get lessons or something.” 

“Lessons?” Moss said, sounding scornful. He scoffed. Roy gave him a strange look. “We don’t need lessons !” 

“Yes we do,” Roy replied, nonplussed.

“Roy, we have the entirety of the internet at our disposal. I’m sure there’s a Youtube video that can teach us how to dance.” 

Roy took a moment, and then nodded. Moss smiled, gleefully jumping up and rushing to get his laptop from the box in the spare room. He returned after a moment, tapping away at the keyboard as he stood in the doorway. Then he came forward and balanced the laptop on one of the boxes. He held his hand out to his fiance. Roy took it with a smile, getting up to stand facing his fiance. 

“Place your right hand on your partner’s waist,” the voice on the computer said. The two of them did so obligingly. Moss smiled a little shyly at Roy. “Then one of you steps forward with your left foot, and the other puts their left foot back.” 

Inevitably, they both put their feet forward at the same time. They both laughed, and Roy put his foot back. “Now step to the left,” the voice said. 

They did so. Roy grinned. He hadn’t (really) messed it up yet! Moss noticed and smiled back, leaning closer to him. “Now repeat the last two steps with your right side.” 

Once again they did so. It was all going well, it was looking good, but then as they began to turn, Roy stepped back for his part. Unfortunately their living room was still filled with boxes. One of these boxes was right behind the Irishman, and it was open, so one of his feet went straight into it. Roy flailed for a moment, letting go of Moss at the last possible second before he went over onto his back with an almighty crash. Immediately he began to swear loudly.

“Oh gosh, are you okay!?” Moss exclaimed. He rushed over and paused the video before coming over and kneeling down next to Roy. The Irishman groaned as he sat up. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. He pulled his leg out of the box. Moss helped him stand, but as soon as Roy put any weight on his ankle he yelped in pain. Moss gave his fiance a worried look. “Oh-h-h-h-h, I think I twisted my ankle.” 

“You should put ice on it,” Moss said quickly. Roy gave him a small look. 

“It’s not like we’ve got any here. The fridge-freezer isn’t coming ‘til tomorrow.” 

“Well…” Moss trailed off, shaking his head. “No, it’s silly.” 

“What?” 

“Well, we do have neighbours…” 

“You know what, at this point I just want to not be in pain,” Roy said with a wince. “So give me a hand and let’s go ‘round there?” 

Moss nodded. He came forward, hooking Roy’s arm around his shoulders. They walk-limped through the flat, flinging the front door and not bothering to close it as they made their way to the other door on their floor. They glanced at each other and nodded. Moss took a deep breath, reaching forward and knocking on the door. 

The door was answered by a man. He had a large beard and a bald head, and Roy had to restrain himself from saying that he looked as if he was upside down. His moustache was beautifully groomed and very impressive. He had kind eyes. 

“Hi, we’re your new neighbours,” Moss said, the words coming out all in a jumble. “And, erm--” 

“It’s okay,” the man laughed. He reached behind the door for a moment and then handed them a bag of peas. Moss took it, a little bit in shock. The man laughed again. “I heard it through the wall.”

“Heard what?” Roy blurted, his cheeks going red straight away. 

“The swearing.” 

Roy made a small ahh noise. He nodded. “Congratulations on your engagement, by the way,” the man said. “Welcome to the building!” 

They both nodded, and the moment they got back to their own flat they burst into giggles.

Chapter Text

Another month quickly slipped by. Now it was mid-December and Christmas plans were well underway. Wedding plans, too, were coming along impressively. Ideas were forming, Pinterest boards had been created, and many, many Amazon packages had been ordered and delivered. Nothing particularly concrete had been decided yet, but the planning was bloody spectacular. 

With their date now set, the two of them knew that they had to book a venue, and quickly. Moss had spent every day and night for the last week trawling through the internet trying to find somewhere suitable. He upturned about four suitable-looking locations in and around London. They had a nature reserve in Southwark, a pretty old building, an even older crypt in South London and another tucked away park with a quiet corner with a marquee. 

Personally, Roy didn’t really mind or care where they got married. They could get married in the shittiest registry office in the country for all he cared, as long as he was there with the love of his life. Thing was, Moss wanted it to all be perfect, and so Roy had vowed to himself to pretend to give a shit. For him. 

“See, I’d love to have an outdoor wedding, but you’re always risking it raining,” Moss said. He’d been talking for half an hour straight by this point, barely taking a breath. Roy nodded, suppressing a yawn. They were lying in bed together. It was starting to get late, and Roy was doing his very best not to drop off to sleep. “And this is England… it likes to rain when you least expect it.” 

“Mm hmm,” Roy murmured. He yawned again, shaking his head a little and clicking his phone off. 

“But if we had it in the crypt I’d be scared that the roof was going to fall down on all of our heads. It is very old after all.” 

“Yeah,” the Irishman mumbled. Moss looked over at him at that moment. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was quiet and he sounded almost ashamed. At the sound of his fiance’s voice, Roy shifted onto his side and sat up a little more. 

“Yeah,” he said quickly. He smiled at his fiance. “Yeah, I’m fine, baby.”

“Sorry, I’ve been ranting,” Moss replied. He closed his laptop quickly and put it down on the floor. 

“It’s okay,” Roy replied with a smile. “You’re just excited, that’s all.” 

“You’re excited too, right?” 

“Of course I am! It’s just…” here Roy trailed off as he tried to think of the right words to say. He shifted onto his side, reaching round and wrapping his arms around his fiance’s waist. He looked up at him. “I love you, okay? As long as you’re there it’ll all be perfect.” 

“And people say I’m the romantic,” Moss laughed as he lay down next to his partner. He shifted onto his side so he was facing Roy, leaning forward and kissing him quickly. “We can talk again tomorrow.”

Roy smiled and nodded. 

***

By the time Roy awoke the next morning, Moss was already awake and sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor. He had a magazine balanced on his lap and was flicking through it. As he heard his fiance start to stir behind him he turned, putting the magazine to one side. 

“Mornin’,” Roy mumbled once he had woken up a little more. Moss smiled at him. 

“Good morning, my darling.”

“You’re happy this morning.” 

“What can I say?” Moss shrugged, giggling a little. “I have the best fiance in the world.” 

“You’ve been reading those magazine articles again,” Roy remarked. Moss laughed again, moving to sit on the bed. He leaned down, kissing his fiance softly. 

“We have an appointment at one this afternoon,” he said once they’d broken apart. “So I thought we could go out, get some lunch?” 

“Sounds wonderful, my love.” 

They both laughed, pulling each other close. Moss sighed, resting his head on his fiance’s shoulder. 

Lord knows the two of them could have stayed like that forever. 

***

It turns out that the appointment was to go and look at one of the potential sites for their wedding. It was the tucked-away marquee deal. A woman met them at the entrance to the site, greeting them with a winning public-relations smile and a clipboard tucked under her arm. 

“Hi, it’s so nice to see you,” she said as she shook Moss’ hand. The whole time she was almost entirely ignoring Roy. “Where’s the bride-to-be, then?” 

“Oh, no,” Moss said quickly. He gestured to his fiance. “We’re, um, we’re the ones getting married.” 

“Oh,” the woman said. She sounded a little bit stunned. Moss bit his lip, looking away to the side. Roy, who had been staring at the ground up until now, suddenly looked up. His eyes were angry. 

“Yeah, I’m his fiance,” he said, pushing forward a little and offering his hand to her. Confused, she took it. “Nice to meet you too.” 

Even as she showed them around, the woman seemed not quite sure of herself. She kept catching herself on her words as she explained where parts of the ceremony would take place, how the marquee would be set up, how they ran things. Roy personally was enjoying it immensely. Something deep down liked watching this person who had just assumed that the two of them were little more than friends squirm. 

Eventually, though, the woman told them to look around themselves and quickly scuttled off. They were left standing in the marquee alone together. 

Roy turned around slowly, taking in all of the room. Now they were here, seeing it in real life instead of on a computer screen, it was rather pretty. It was set up for a simple white wedding, nothing too special, but even so it was utterly beautiful. 

“Do you think we should have a top table?” Moss asked. Roy turned to him, and then looked at the table he was gesturing at. It was even on a little raised platform. 

“I don’t know,” he said, coming forward. He slipped his hand into his fiance’s. “It feels kinda cold and impersonal.” 

“I guess,” Moss said, nodding. He held his arm out, gesturing towards the table. “So if we got rid of that table, we could put the buffet there?” 

“Yeah!” Roy said enthusiastically. He whipped around, whirling Moss around with him. He gestured to the entrance of the marquee. “And I like the sound of the barbeque the woman mentioned.” 

“Mmm,” Moss replied, nodding. “That’d be good for the little ones too.” 

“What about the cake?” 

Moss gasped, his face splitting into a huge grin. He jumped up and down a little, shaking Roy’s hand up and down. Roy smiled at his fiance. 

“I forgot about the cake!” Moss said excitedly. “When I booked this session they said it came with a free cake tasting.” 

“How fancy,” Roy joked. They took a moment to giggle together in the middle of the marquee. The Irishman led his fiance over to the dancefloor, pulling him close and starting to step in time with a waltz. Moss laughed, joining in. 

“Well at least we’re not falling over this time,” he murmured. Roy giggled as he nodded. 

“I really like this,” he said quietly after a moment. 

“Me too.” 

They took a moment, looking at each other. Moss smiled and nodded. They stopped dancing, taking a second together before turning to go back out. Just before they left the marquee, Moss reached up and cupped his hands around Roy’s ear. 

“Yeah?” the Irishman said. 

“If you don’t pick the chocolate cake I swear none of this matters.” 

Roy laughed and nodded.

Chapter Text

Since the visit to the marquee a month ago, the wedding planning had been coming along rather well. A venue had been secured, a cake had been pre-ordered from a little boutique bakery in Soho, and the boys were enjoying organising everything. Christmas had been enjoyable: Roy’s parents had come over to visit, Moss’ mum had come to their flat and the boys had hosted a rather nerve-wracking but ultimately kind of fun Christmas Day. All three of their parents had foisted a multitude of general wedding crap upon then. Most of it was from Home Bargains. To be fair to their parents, some of it was salvageable. 

It was January, and London had turned bitterly cold. A sharp icy gale was sweeping through the city. In their new third-floor flat, the two of them were surprised at how cold it could get if just one window was accidentally left open. 

“The heating’s on, right?” Moss asked. His face was just peeking out from the pile of blankets on the bed. Roy was next to him, wearing his old university hoodie as a protection from the cold. “Because it doesn’t feel like it’s on.” 

“It’s on,” Roy said with a laugh. He clicked his iPad off, scooting a little closer to the blankets that were his fiance. 

“How are you not cold?” Moss said, his voice a little muffled.

“Just not, I s’pose,” Roy replied with a shrug. He leaned forward, pushing the blankets out of his fiance’s face in order to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Do you want me to turn it up a little more?” 

“It’s okay,” Moss said. He smiled, shifting closer. “Cuddle me?” 

“Of course, baby.” 

***

It was strange not being alone in the office again, Moss and Roy thought. For the past six months Jen had been at home on maternity leave, and so they had had free reign of the office. It hadn’t been too different to when Jen was there, to be honest, it just meant that Roy had to play Guitar Hero by himself. Now though, she was back. Reggie was safely upstairs in the new nursery and daycare centre Jen had set up from home for all the parents at the company, and she was getting down to business. 

“More responses from the Save the Date cards,” Moss said as his fiance came back into the room. Roy made a small noise, nodding. 

“How many’s that now?” he asked. 

“Well, all of your family, extended or otherwise,” Moss replied. “All of my family, the majority of our friends, Jen and Peter of course… so about eighty or so?” 

“Jesus,” Roy muttered. He threw himself down into his desk chair and put his feet up on his desk. “How many people did we invite again?” 

“Nearly a hundred,” Moss said as he got up and headed over to the mini-fridge by the coffee machine, opening it and peering inside. “And nearly two-fifths of that is just your family.” 

“How many of your family is coming?” 

“My mum’s older sister and her family, mum’s younger sister, and two of my dad’s sisters and their families,” he said. “So… sixteen?” 

“Then it’s just friends and stuff, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” 

They grinned at each other. Moss closed the fridge door with his hip as he turned and headed back to his desk. 

“Guys!” Jen called from the other room. They both looked up. Jen’s office door was open, but they couldn’t see her. 

“Yeah?” Roy shouted back. 

“You’re not doing anything tomorrow night, are you?” 

The other two glanced at each other. 

“I don’t think so…?” Roy replied after a moment, sounding vaguely confused. “Why?” 

There was a pause, and then Jen appeared in her office doorway. She had a shit-eating grin on her face, the same one she had when she wanted them to do something. 

“Do you remember those businessmen from when Douglas was still here?” she asked. The other two nodded. It has been three years now since then, much to everyone’s bafflement. “Well, they’re coming back for a two-day visit. They want to play Dungeons and Dragons with the two of you again.” 

Moss and Roy glanced at each other. They still both played D&D of course, although Moss more than Roy. It was strange, though. True, they hadn’t forgotten about the Johns and Phil, but it had been nearly half a decade since then. The three of them hadn’t been back to Reynholm Industries since Douglas had disappeared. 

“Um…” Moss said, being the first of the two of them to speak. He glanced back at his fiance. “I, um, I guess that would be okay?” 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Jen said, smiling warmly at him. “Did you two stay in contact with them?” 

“Phil contacted me on Friendface a couple of years ago, asking about D&D things,” he said. “But not at all other than that.” 

“I wonder if they know about you two…” Jen said to herself as she turned and went back into her office. Moss shrugged to himself, going back to his computer. Roy was watching him from his desk. 

“You really wanna play D&D with them again?” Roy asked. Moss looked back over at him. 

“Why not?” he said. “They were nice enough last time.” 

“I mean yeah, I guess,” the Irishman replied. Moss took a moment, looking over his fiance. 

“What’s wrong?” he said eventually.

“Nothing,” Roy said quickly. “There’s nothing wrong.” 

“Roy I’m autistic, not stupid.”

“I know,” Roy said. He gave his fiance a small smile. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” 

They smiled at each other for a moment. 

“I guess it’s just they gave me a… I don’t know, a vibe,” the Irishman continued. “They were too similar to Douglas for far too much time for my liking. Does that make sense?” 

“I guess,” Moss replied. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “But I really think it’ll be okay. They probably already know about us anyway, so if they want to see us then it must be okay.” 

“If you say so…” Roy said, although he still sounded a little unsure. 

***

For the next two days Moss filled up a whole notebook coming up with a D&D campaign for them to play. Sometimes Roy would look up when they were sitting in bed, expecting his fiance to already be asleep, and he would be sitting there, bent over his notebook scribbling away. Jen had told them that they wouldn’t have to see the three businessmen until that evening, as she had to show them around the building and all the new additions. Just formalities, apparently. Either way, it meant they got a day and an office to themselves. 

“Babe, quick question, did we pick up bread when we went shopping the other day?” Roy asked. They were both sitting at their desks not doing very much. All of the computers in the building had magically decided to work all on their own. 

“No,” Moss said, giving him a strange look. Roy made a small noise, nodding. 

“We might need to get some on the way home.” 

“Roy, there was an entire loaf in there yesterday!” Moss exclaimed. He turned in his chair to look at his fiance, looking utterly betrayed. Roy couldn’t help but giggle a little. “What happened to it?” 

“I woke up in the middle of the night last night and I was starving ,” Roy explained. “So I got up, intending to make a single piece of toast, but then half an hour later, half a packet of butter and a loaf of bread later there we were.” He paused for a moment. “Oh, yeah, we need butter too.” 

Moss chuckled. He got up, walking over and squashing himself in between his fiance and the edge of the chair. Sighing, he rested his head on his fiance’s shoulder. 

“Richmond sent his RSVP back today,” he said quietly. “So that’s everyone now.” 

“Is he bringing a plus one?” 

“Actually yes.” 

“That’ll be an interesting one.” 

They both giggled, nodding. 

“Um, I actually wanted to talk to you about the guests,” Moss said. Roy turned a little to look at his fiance properly. Moss was looking down at his hands, where he was picking at a loose hangnail on his thumb. Reaching over, the Irishman caught his partner’s hand gently. Knowing Moss, he’d accidentally end up making his thumb bleed, and neither of them were particularly good with blood. 

“What’s up?” he asked. 

“Well, I was thinking that we could invite the Johns and Phil to the wedding,” Moss said. As was common when he was nervous about something, his words were fast and jumbled. “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, and I know we don’t know them the best, but we did play quite a lot of D&D with them when Douglas was here, so I think it might be good to invite them?” 

Now, normally when Moss suggested something, Roy tended to go with it. Not because he just went along with stuff because he was scared they would break up if not, they were well past that. No, nine times out of ten Moss’ ideas were actually very good. Alright, sometimes they were terrible (Roy still fondly remembered the moth bath ladder) but they were usually okay. However, this idea was not one he was too thrilled about. The Johns and Phil just rubbed him up the wrong way. Always had done. They reminded him too much of Douglas. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said. Moss gave him a confused look. 

“Why not?” 

“I just don’t, okay? Can we drop it?”

“No,” Moss said. Roy did his best not to sigh as he got up, grabbing his coffee cup and heading over to the coffee machine. “I want to invite them and you don’t. This is the first thing we’ve disagreed on about the wedding.” 

“Look, I don’t like them,” Roy snapped. He didn’t turn away from the coffee machine. “I think they’re dickheads. They’re bad news, no matter how nice they seem when they’re playing D&D. I don’t want them at our wedding.” 

“I really don’t think they’re like that,” Moss replied. Roy pursed his lips. He paused for a moment, doing his best to quell the anger building in his stomach.

“Okay,” he said, turning and leaning back against the cupboard. “How about this? We be super gay around them.” 

“Super gay?” Moss repeated, tilting his head to the side in confusion. Roy nodded. He couldn’t help but smirk a little as he said: 

“Yeah, so gay that they think they’ve landed in the middle of a pride parade. Hugs, kisses, sappy talk, the lot. Let’s act like parents trying to embarrass their child in front of their friends.” 

“And what exactly will this achieve?” 

“Well, if they respond well, then maybe you’re right. They’re not dickheads, and we can offer them an invite to the wedding.” 

“What if they don’t react well?” Moss asked. He sounded nervous now. Roy shrugged. 

“Then we don’t invite them. Simple as.” 

“Alright,” Moss said, although he sounded rather apprehensive now. Roy nodded. The mood in the room had become a little sour, not like before. Before Roy could go back to his desk, Moss got up and headed over to the sofa, grabbing his laptop from the coffee table and opening it up. The Irishman watched, guilt growing in the pit of his stomach as he watched the anxiety start to show on his partner’s face and him absent-mindedly start to chew on the edge of his nail. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly after a few moments. Moss turned to him, a small smile on his face. 

“It’s okay,” was all he said. 

***

It was around five when Jen arrived back at the office. She was looking tired and a little shocked. Stumbling into the office, she went over to the sofa and sat down on it, letting out a confused sound. Moss looked up from his Rubix cube, and Roy’s head poked out from the kitchenette. 

“Jen, you okay?” Roy asked worriedly. That brought Jen back into the room, and she turned to look at them. 

“You will not believe how much those three have changed,” she said. 

“Hm?” Moss said questioningly. 

“They’re all married. No weird sexual innuendos. No attempts at seduction. John One spent the whole day gushing about his newborn daughter.” 

“Shut up,” Roy said as he came back into the room. He didn’t miss the slightly smug look that his fiance was shooting him. “Really?”

“Yep,” she said. She sighed heavily, forcing herself to stand. “Right, well I’m heading off. Reggie’s teething and he’s an absolute nightmare, so going to try and see if an extra-long bath and soft food helps. Have fun tonight.”

“Give him a kiss from his godfathers,” Roy said. Jen smiled and nodded before grabbing her bag and jacket and heading out of the office. Roy closed his eyes as he heard his fiance let out a self-righteous laugh. 

“I told you!” Moss exclaimed. “I told you they were nice!” 

“Look, we’ll just see,” Roy said, a little irked. Moss smirked, shaking his head. 

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice quiet as he focused his attention. “It’s not like I’m going to complain about being able to snog my fiance in front of other people.” 

It took Roy all he had not to spit out his coffee. 

***

It was still another couple of hours until the three businessmen showed up. At six Roy switched from coffee to beer, and had already drunk three by the time seven rolled around and a knock sounded through the office. 

Moss answered it. He didn’t trust his slightly drunk fiance to not be entirely inappropriate. The first thing he noticed about the three men in front of him was that they looked a lot less pale. They looked more alive, somehow. Phil was holding forward a bottle of wine. All of them had wedding rings on. 

“Hallo,” Moss said, standing to the side to let them in. He took the bottle of wine from Phil before it got to Roy. “It’s nice to see you again.” 

“Likewise,” Phil said with a warm smile. 

“How have you three been since we last saw you?” 

“Married, got a little boy on the way,” Phil said. Ah yes, he had a sort of glow around him now, Moss thought. 

“I have my little girl,” John One said. 

“Married,” John Two added. 

“That’s good,” Moss said. Curling his hand into a fist and digging his nails into his palm to try and stop his anxiety, he headed over and sat down right next to Roy. Automatically the Irishman put his arm around his fiance’s shoulders. Moss smiled as he reached forward and grabbed his notebook. “I trust you brought your character sheets?” 

The three of them nodded enthusiastically, and sat themselves down at the table. 

The next three hours passed surprisingly quickly. Every time Roy rolled well or made a good decision, Moss would hug him or give him a quick kiss. With Roy getting steadily drunker as the night went on, these kisses were rather sloppy towards the end of the night. 

“You need one more hit to kill the dragon!” Moss exclaimed. All of the other three were on their feet, leaning over the table in excitement. Roy would have been standing too, but Moss was sitting on his lap and so he was kind of stuck where he was-- not that he minded, of course. “Phil, it’s your roll.”

Phil reached forward for the die. He glanced at Moss and Roy, and then at the Johns. He nodded to no-one in particular, taking a deep breath and shaking the die. He released it onto the table. They all watched up as it landed on…

“Eighteen!” Moss announced. “Critical hit! The dragon lets out one last smoky breath and flops down into the mountain, finally dead!”

The others let out yells of triumph. The Johns hugged each other, whilst Phil held his hand out to Roy for a high five. Roy tried to give him one, but almost missed due to his slight double vision from the drunkenness. Moss suppressed a giggle. 

“Great game,” Phil said. This was after they had wrapped the game up and cleared the board away. The businessmen were gathering their things, ready to head back to their hotel. “Really great game. Thank you, mate.” 

“It’s no trouble,” Moss said with a smile. They shook hands. The three of them had been about to leave when Roy stumbled forward. He was holding three save the date cards. He held them out to the businessmen. 

“Look, we’re getting married in a few months and I kinda didn’t wanna invite you but you’ve been really chill so here,” he said a little sloppily. The businessmen looked between each other in confusion, and then over to Moss. 

“Married?” John One said. 

“You two are getting married?” John Two said. 

“You two are together?” Phil asked. They all sounded supremely confused. 

“Yes,” Moss said, feeling a little nonplussed. “For nearly two years.” 

“ How do you not know?” Roy asked. His words were a little slurred. “We’ve been kissin’ and hugging all night!” 

“We just thought you were messing around!” John One exclaimed. 

“You know, like you do,” Phil said. Moss and Roy glanced at each other in confusion, shaking their heads. The businessmen shrugged. They reached forward, taking the save the date cards. “Anyhow, thank you for the invite. I guess we’ll see you in…” he paused, looking at the card. “May!”

Exchanging goodbyes, they watched the businessmen go. As soon as they left, they couldn’t help but burst out laughing. 

“Unobservant bastards,” Roy mumbled. Moss giggled, nodding. He glanced at his watch. It was nearly eleven. Roy was fully drunk and Moss couldn’t drive, and the car was in the car park. Looks like they were sleeping in the office.

“Sleep off the beer,” he said knowingly. Roy nodded, kissing him sloppily before stumbling over to the sofa and collapsing down onto it. Almost immediately he began to snore. Moss laughed softly, watching his fiance for a minute or so before going over and pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. 

God, he couldn’t wait to marry that man.

Chapter Text

When it came to getting married, Roy had not given it much thought over the course of his life. He’d always just sort of assumed that at some point he’d end up marrying some woman, having a kid or two, and then getting a bitter divorce and spending the rest of his life alone (save for his kids, of course). Now, though, divorce seemed alien and nearly all of his time was taken up planning the wedding. He’d never realised how much went into it! 

For example, right now it was Valentine’s day and instead of getting ready to go to dinner as they were supposed to be doing, he and Moss were sitting on their bed in their pyjamas looking at DJs online. 

“At this point I’d rather just rent a decent sound system and hook up an iPod to it,” Roy groaned, putting his head in his hands. His temples were throbbing and his eyes were starting to ache a little. He was pretty sure he was getting a cold. 

“Do you know how to use one of those things?” Moss asked. He closed the laptop gently. 

“What, an iPod?” 

“No, a sound system.” 

“Well, given that I built a rudimentary one as a teenager, I would say so, yeah,” Roy said after a pause. 

“Really? You built one?” 

“Yeah. My record player wasn’t very loud and I wanted to piss my sister off.” 

Moss giggled a little, smiling at his fiance. 

“Well it saves having to call yet another person,” he said. “So if you think you can do it, I think it’s a great idea.” 

“I’ll just pay one of my teenage cousins to stand there and keep an eye on it.” 

They both grinned at each other. Roy sighed, forcing himself to stand and head over to the wardrobe. Their dinner reservation was in an hour, at an apparently nice restaurant. To be honest, he didn’t really want to go. He was sure it would be lovely once they were there, but he was tired, achy and a little grumpy. Part of him knew he wouldn’t be particularly good company tonight, and he kind of just wanted to mooch it out in front of the telly. 

“That’s a point,” Moss said suddenly. Roy looked over to him, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “Clothes.” 

“Gonna need a bit more information, love,” the Irishman said. Moss sighed frustratedly, and although Roy wasn't facing him anymore he just knew that he was rolling his eyes at him.

“For the wedding. What are we going to wear?”

“Suits, I guess,” Roy replied. He shrugged a little. “We can go have a look at them some time next week.”

“Are you okay?” Moss asked. He sounded worried. Roy sighed, leaning forward and resting his head against the wardrobe. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, his voice quiet. This was, of course, a lie. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, Moss.” 

He could feel Moss’ eyes on him as he stayed standing by the wardrobe, just taking a moment to breathe and almost psych himself up for having to get changed. And then go out and then have dinner like a normal human person. 

“Roy,” Moss said softly. Roy knew this voice. It was very specific. He closed his eyes again, taking a shaky breath. 

You see, work had been very stressful the past few weeks. The computers had been breaking left right and centre, Jen had been pushing for new trade deals (meaning more meetings) and with the wedding planning on top everything was just getting a bit too much. Moss seemed to be dealing with it rather well: he’d always dealt with stress surprisingly well, especially since he’d been going to therapy. Roy, however, was not so good. He tended to let things build up and up and up and then it would all just spill over. 

“I’m fine,” he said again reflexively. 

“Darling, you’re shaking.” 

“Go to dinner without me,” the Irishman said. His voice was quiet and filled with shame. “Take your mum or something. I’m just… I’m not up to it. Not tonight.” 

There was a moment before Roy heard the bed creak. Then Moss’ arms were around his waist and he could feel the gentle pressure of his fiance’s head against his shoulder.

“No,” Moss said softly. “No, I’ll stay here with you.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ve screwed Valentine’s Day up.” 

“You could never screw Valentine’s up, my dear.” 

Roy let out a small sob-filled laugh. Moss tightened his arms a little, holding his fiance close. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Never be sorry for looking after yourself.” 

Stifling a sob, Roy bent his head a little. “I love you,” Moss murmured. 

“I love you too,” Roy mumbled back. 

“What do you want to do?” 

Roy made a face. Gently, he moved Moss’ arms away from himself and walked over to the bed. He threw himself down on it, burying his face in the pillow. 

“Nothing,” he said. His voice was muffled by the pillow.

“What about dinner?” 

“Same answer.” 

Moss pursed his lips, taking a deep breath from where he was by the door now. His mind was going a little haywire trying to work out what to do next. 

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” he chanced after a moment. Roy shifted to look at him. 

“I love you, you know that?” 

Moss giggled, nodding. 

“I’ll be in the living room if you need me,” he said, coming forward and gently kissing him. Roy nodded before putting his face back into the pillow. Moss took one last lingering look at his fiance before leaving the room and silently shutting the door behind him.

The first hour and a half was fairly uneventful. Moss watched the telly, ordered a pizza online, and then called Morgan to complain about the extortionate price of said pizza once it had come and he had eaten it. 

“I mean, it was twenty quid and it was mediocre at best!” he exclaimed, dramatically throwing his arms up and then letting them fall down back against the sofa. He sighed as Morgan giggled. Then all of a sudden, Morgan stopped laughing abruptly. Moss made a face, shooting the phone a weird look. 

“Did you hear that?” she asked. Her voice was hushed and fearful. 

“Hear what?” Moss replied, confused. 

“That banging!” 

“What--” 

At that moment, there was a bang. It sounded like someone hitting something against something else. Moss froze in place, feeling his breathing speed up. “Yeah, I hear it,” he whispered.

“Where’s it coming from?” Morgan asked, her voice still quiet. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“It sounds like someone’s trying to break in.” 

When she said that, Moss’ eyes shifted over to the door to their balcony. It came into their living room, and was currently covered by the curtains. Was it coming from there?

“Morgan, if the phone suddenly cuts off in a moment, I want you to call the police,” Moss murmured. Taking a deep breath, he got up from the sofa and crept over to the curtains. As another bang sounded through the flat, he screwed his eyes shut and tried to shove his fear down out of his throat. Taking a deep shaky breath, he reached forward, moved the curtain back and…

Nothing. 

He let out a huge sigh of relief. 

“There’s no-one trying to get in through the balcony,” he said as he put the curtains back in place. 

“We both heard that bang, though,” Morgan said, still sounding concerned but not talking quite so quietly now. “Both of us can’t have just imagined it!” 

“Who knows?” Moss said. He shrugged, going back over to the sofa. Just as he sat back down, though, there came another bang. 

“There!” Morgan exclaimed. “There, did you hear that!?” 

“Yes, I did,” Moss said a little begrudgingly. 

“Go and check the rest of your flat. I swear to God I am not seeing your faces on the news tomorrow morning because you’ve been brutally murdered or something.” 

“Lovely,” he replied with a grimace. “Okay, fine.” 

He hauled himself up, walking around aimlessly a little. The kitchen was fine, there was nothing in the living room. “Look, it’s probably just pipes,” he said as he walked towards the corridor. However, just as he passed the bedroom he heard another bang. It was loud this time, much louder than before, and he could hear a small whimper. That piqued his anxiousness, and he turned back. “Morgan, I’ll call you back later,” he said quietly before ending the call, pocketing his phone and reaching for the door to the bedroom. 

It was locked. 

“Roy!” he shouted, immediately panicking. He reached up and hammered against the door with his hand. There was no reply, just another bang and a sob, clearer this time. “Roy! Let me in!” 

Oh God, what was happening!? Had someone broken in? Had someone somehow used downstairs’ balcony to scale up, get in through the window? Why was the door locked? He rushed into the kitchen, hands shaking as he scrabbled through the change pot in the corner. He was sure they had a spare key to the bedroom in their somewhere! Why had they even put a bloody lock on the door anyway, it wasn’t like there was anyone else in the flat! 

Finally he managed to find the key. Thank God. He hadn’t been entirely sure if it was actually in there, or indeed in the house at all. Running back to the bedroom, he fumbled around with the lock for what felt like an eternity, but was actually only a few seconds, before managing to get it in and unlocking the door. As he went to open the door, he heard another thump. Taking a minute to try and quell his ever-rising anxiety, he took a deep breath, twisted the door handle and went into the bedroom. 

The bedroom was a wreck. Most of the books they owned were on the floor, and there were flecks of paint missing from the door. That must have been what the banging was, Moss reasoned. The covers on the bed were all messed up, and the lamp had been knocked off the side. 

And Roy was nowhere to be seen. 

“Roy?” Moss called a little nervously. There was another sob. Taking a deep breath, Moss went round the bed and rounded the corner. 

Roy was sitting leaning up against the bed. He had his knees drawn up to his chest, his forehead resting on his knees. His shoulders were heaving and he was visibly trembling. Moss gasped a little, kneeling down next to his fiance and whispering his name again. 

Slowly, Roy looked up. He looked a mess. Tears were streaming down his face and he was breathing heavily. 

“I can’t do this,” he whispered. 

“Do what?” Moss asked quietly. He shifted a little closer to him. 

“Be in the spotlight all the time,” Roy replied. He stopped, and for a moment he seemed to lose control over his breathing. Reaching forward, Moss took his head and squeezed it. 

“Deep breaths, darling,” he murmured. Nodding, Roy took a few deep breaths, staring down at his knees. 

“I just… it feels like everyone is watching us all the time because we’re supposed to run this company and be a poster gay couple, and we’re tryna plan the wedding and it’s just… it’s too much, Moss.” He paused as more tears rolled down his face, and he quickly wiped them away. “I’m not a good person at the best of times. I’ve barely been out two years and everyone’s expectin’ me to be the best gay man in the world, when I’m not even gay! I get these girls I used to date messaging me asking if I just dated them as a cover, but I didn’t! I genuinely liked most of them!”

“I know, sweetheart,” Moss said. Reaching forward, he gently wiped the tears from Roy’s cheeks. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re the most perfect person on this whole ruddy planet.” 

“Sappy bugger,” Roy murmured. Moss smiled at him. 

“But I know what you mean,” he said. 

“You do?” Roy said. He sounded a little surprised. 

“Yeah,” Moss replied, shrugging a little. “It sometimes feels like people look at us as the example of a perfect gay couple, but they don’t see…” he paused, gesturing around the ruined bedroom. “Well, this. And all the stupid little arguments over the washing up.” 

“I’m sorry,” the Irishman said. “I just… I didn’t know what to do. Everything was building up and I had to let it out.” 

“It’s okay,” Moss said hurriedly. “But they also don’t see the silly things. They don’t see us dancing around the living room. They don’t see us screaming at our video games like they’re trying to murder us.” 

Roy laughed. He glanced at his knees and then back up at his fiance. 

“I love you,” he said. “You always make everything better.” 

Moss blushed a little, looking away. 

“How do you feel?” he asked, changing the subject. Roy paused, as if taking stock. 

“Well my heart is going like I’ve just been forced to run the cross country at school, I feel like I’ve just stepped off a rollercoaster and my thoughts are… scary right now,” he said. 

“It’s okay,” Moss whispered. He paused for a moment, looking over to the bedside cabinet. “I was going to wait until tomorrow to show you, but…” 

Getting up from where they were sitting, he walked over to the cabinet. He pulled it open, reaching inside and getting out a small box. He came back over and sat down. Smiling, he opened the box and held it out to Roy. “The rings came today.” 

Roy gasped a little, reaching out. He brought his knees away from his chest, stretching his legs out. The rings were made of titanium, a plain silvery colour. On the inside of each ring was inscribed their names in binary code: one per ring. 

“Oh my God, they’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice hushed. 

“Just like the man who’s going to be wearing it,” Moss said. Roy smiled at him, resting his hand on his partner’s cheek to pull him forward and kiss him softly. 

“I love you,” he said. 

“It doesn’t matter what we’re wearing, or who’s there, or even what people think of us when we get married,” Moss said as they broke apart. He reached forward, brushing a stray curl away from his fiance’s forehead. “All that matters is that you’re there with me.” 

As they hugged each other, Roy knew that he had picked the right person to marry.

Chapter Text

Two months later 

“I can’t believe we’re getting married here in a month,” Roy said, his voice hushed. He and Moss were standing under an umbrella in the field next to the marquee they were using for their wedding. Given that it was the end of April, it was raining rather heavily and their shoes were getting slowly soggier. 

“Neither can I,” Moss replied. “I just hope it’s a bit drier!”

Roy laughed, nodding as he put his free arm around his fiancé. The representative for the company that owned the place smiled at them from under her own umbrella. 

“Well we’re all really looking forward to hosting this wedding for you guys,” she said. To Roy it just seemed like polite customer service talk, but even so it was kind of sweet. 

“Okay, well thank you for letting us come round and have a look again,” he said, giving the woman a half-hearted smile and holding his hand out to her. She took it, shaking it firmly. 

“We’ll see you in a month?”

“Looking forward to it!”

Roy smiled widely, kept smiling as the woman walked away. The moment she stepped out of sight his smile dropped and he turned back to his fiance, leaning his head on Moss’ shoulder. 

“You okay?” Moss asked, his voice soft. Roy made a small noise and nodded. 

“PR people just piss me off.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” 

“This place is still beautiful, though,” the Irishman continued. He turned his head, smiling up at his fiance. “I cannot wait to marry you here.” 

Moss grinned at him, and then shrugged his shoulders a little Roy, recognising the sign, moved his head. Handing his fiance the umbrella, he stepped out into the rain. He hopped over the larger mud patches to stand on what would be the aisle, where the company had placed a series of cobblestones. Throwing his arms back dramatically, he strutted down the aisle, turning back to his fiance and grinning once he got to the end. Even after just a minute in the rain his glasses were covered in raindrops and his hair was soaked, plastering to his forehead. Roy giggled, shaking his head. 

“Come ‘ere, you,” he said fondly. Moss ran back over, getting back under the umbrella as fast as he could. Not that it was really much use anymore. He was already soaked. Roy could feel him shivering. “Have we got anywhere else to go now in terms of errand running?” 

“Um…” Moss said. He made a face, looking around as he tried to dig through his brain for the information. After a moment he sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.” 

“No need to apologise, love,” Roy said. “We don’t, I don’t think.” 

“Thank God,” Moss replied, letting out a sigh of relief. “I kind of just want to go home.” 

“Same here,” Roy said. He leaned over and kissed his fiance on the temple. They smiled at each other, and Moss wrapped his arm around Roy’s waist as they walked towards the exit. “God, you’re soaking love.” 

Moss made a small noise. As they reached the car park, Roy put the umbrella down and the two of them hurried into the car. “Bloody rain,” Roy grumbled as he shut the car door behind him. Moss nodded in agreement, taking his glasses off and wiping them on his t-shirt. This did little more than smudge them further. The two of them let out simultaneous sighs, leaning back against their seats. 

“Home,” Moss said. He was starting to sound a little miserable now the cold and the wet had gotten to him. Roy nodded. “Warm clothes, a hairdryer and for Pete’s sake we better have some hot chocolate.” 

“I know you,” Roy said. He turned the car on, pausing for a moment to concentrate and pull out without hitting the one other car in the carpark. Once he had, he glanced back at his fiance. “We always have hot chocolate in the house.” 

After this, there was a comfortable quiet between the two of them for a while as they drove again, half-listening to the radio. Moss was looking out of the window, seemingly in a world of his own. 

“You know, I’d hate to have a dog in this sort of weather,” he said after a while. Roy made a noise of acknowledgement, not taking his eyes off the road. He wasn’t being rude, they were just driving through London at lunchtime on a Sunday. It tended to be busy and unpredictable. “Because it’s not like you can get away with not walking it, is it? You have to get all cold going out and walking it. Plus they shed hair everywhere.” 

“So you’d never want a dog, then?” Roy said with a laugh. Moss made a face, turning away from the window and shaking his head. 

“No,” he said. “Anyway, I’m allergic to most of them.” 

“I thought you were alright with animals?” 

“Not dogs. Why do you think we always had cats when I was a kid?” 

Roy made a small huh noise, nodding. 

“Would you ever want us to have a pet?” he asked after a moment. Moss shrugged. 

“Depends,” he said. “If our child desperately wanted one then sure. But I’m not overly fussed about it.” 

At this point, they were pulling into their building’s car park and the rain was just starting to taper off. Once he had parked Roy switched the car off and they both sat there for a moment, for no particular reason than being too lazy to get up. To distract himself, Moss pulled his phone out. Then he made a strange face at it. “We have an email,” he said. 

“Cool,” Roy replied, yawning. 

“Roy, serious.” 

“Oh,” he said. The two of them had agreed long ago that if something was serious or needed to be talked about, there would be no messing around or side-stepping the issue: they were to just come out with it. He turned to his fiance. “What, um… what’s it about?” 

“It’s from the Gay Times,” Moss said. Turning the phone towards his partner to prove he wasn’t making it up, he bit his lip. “They want an interview with us.” 

“When?”

“ASAP.” 

“Well what do you want to do?” Roy asked through a sigh, leaning back against the seat. He ran his hand across his face. “Wait ‘til tomorrow and invite them to the office?” 

Moss was quiet for a moment. 

“Or we could invite them round here and get it over with?” he said quietly. Roy thought this over for a moment, looking out of the window. 

“You’d really be alright with them in the house?” he asked after a moment. Once again Moss shrugged. 

“I’m assuming it would only be one,” he said. “And yeah, I think it would be okay.” 

“Email them back, then,” Roy replied. He stretched out a little, cracking his back and groaning a little. When Moss shot him a small look, he glared at him a little and shook his head. “And don’t you dare say the word masseuse .” 

“I wasn’t going to,” Moss said, his voice quiet. He was typing on his phone now, which meant most of his concentration had gone there. After a minute or so, he clicked a button on the screen very dramatically. “There, done.” 

It wasn’t very long until his phone pinged. In fact, they hadn’t even got into their flat yet. They were walking through the car park when they heard it go off. “They want to come here at four.” 

“You okay with that?”

“Are you?” 

Roy took another moment to think as they entered the building. They could have got in the lift but instead decided to walk up the stairs. It gave them more of a chance to talk, at least. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he said after a while. “You know, we’ll just clear away the drugs and the porn mags and then it’ll be--”

At this point Moss was giggling, and Roy abruptly stopped talking as the door to the apartment below their’s opened and the little old lady who lived there doddered out. Having caught the end of their conversation, she gave them a disgusted look. Moss pressed his hand over his mouth, dissolving into more giggles as he bent his head. “Hi, Mrs Patresco,” Roy said awkwardly, standing aside to let her pass. She did so, although not without constantly looking back at them. Once she had disappeared Roy murmured something kind of inaudible, hanging his head. They both had to calm themselves down before continuing towards their apartment. 

“Okay, so it’s settled,” Moss said as they rounded the corner to their apartment. “They’re coming round here.” 

Roy, taking a deep breath, reached into his pocket for his keys and nodded. 

***

Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice,” the journalist said as Roy led him through the living room. Moss was lingering nervously by the door: now that they were actually here, he wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as he had been before. The journalist turned around as he put his bag on the kitchen table, flashing them both a bright smile. “And may I just say your home is beautiful?” 

“Thank you,” Moss mumbled.

“Can I get you anything?” Roy asked. He moved around the table over to the main kitchen, gesturing for the man to take a seat. He did so. “Tea? Coffee? Water? Juice? Squash? Hot chocolate? Cuke? I think we have some alcohol somewhere…” 

“Tea’s fine, thanks,” the journalist. “I would take you up on the offer on alcohol but I have to drive. Milk and one sugar, please.” 

Roy nodded. He glanced over at his fiance (who was still standing in the doorway to the living room) and gave him a questioning look. Almost imperceptibly Moss shook his head. The journalist, who was watching them, smiled to himself as he reached into his satchel and pulled out a notebook and a tape recorder. He clicked it on and set it on top of the table. “I’m Sam,” he said. He offered his hand to Roy (who was sitting back at the table now) who took it and shook it firmly. “Don’t think of this as a formal interview,” he said. At this point he glanced back over to Moss. “It’s more of a conversation between the three of us. You want to stop at any point, just say. You guys are in charge.” 

“You okay?” Roy said, his voice soft. He was looking at Moss. Moss nodded a little, coming forward and taking a seat next to his fiance. Reaching down, he took Roy’s hand in his in a vice-like grip. Roy looked up, smiling at Sam. “Alright, thanks.” 

“Shall we get started?” Sam asked. The two of them nodded. “So, the first thing I was to say is congratulations on your wedding! It’s not long now, is it?” 

“A month today, actually,” Roy said. He grinned. “It’s weird to think that a few years ago we wouldn’t have been able to get married.” 

“That’s true,” Sam said. “We’ve come a long way. Have the two of you encountered any problems whilst trying to book things?” 

“Not really,” Moss replied. Neither of them had really been expecting him to speak, and they both turned to him. He shrugged a little. “I mean, when we go to bigger places people tend to ask where the bride is. But we’ve tried to use smaller businesses and do what we can ourselves.”

“You both earn very good money,” Sam said. He sounded a little confused as he leaned forward slightly. “I mean, you’re both CEOs, along with Jen Barber of course, of Reynholm Industries. How come you aren’t splashing out?” 

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” Roy replied with a laugh. Now they were actually talking he was more relaxed, slouching a little in his chair but still maintaining a friendly and interested air. “I mean, neither of us were exactly badly off--” 

“We both always had food and the bills were paid,” Moss cut in. Roy nodded in agreement. 

“Both of our mams taught us to watch our money as we grew up.” 

“You’re both close to your mums?” Sam asked. The two of them nodded enthusiastically. 

“I think growing up as an only child in a one-parent household meant I got very close to my mother,” Moss said. He shrugged his shoulders a little, leaning closer to his fiance. “There wasn’t really anyone else to share exciting things with, family-wise.” 

“Speaking of your mother…” Sam paused, reaching forward and picking up his mug of tea. Moss and Roy glanced at each other, anxiety starting to build in the pit of their stomachs. Moss bit his lip. “Some people may not remember, but about a year and a half ago there was an incident near your mother’s house.” 

“Yes.” Moss took a deep breath as he shifted in his seat, beginning to tremble slightly. “I was, um…” 

He stopped, pressing his lips together and staring down at his lap. Roy squeezed his hand, reminding him that he was there. 

“You’re safe,” he whispered. Moss nodded. He took a moment before looking back up. There were tears in his eyes. Sam was starting to look as if he was slightly regretting bringing the subject up. 

“Yeah, um, I got attacked,” Moss said, his voice quiet. “Some people decided that they didn’t like us being together and that they were going to take it out on me.” 

“What was that like?” Sam asked. The couple glanced at each other. 

“It’s… a difficult feeling to put into words,” Moss said. “The idea that someone can hate you without even knowing you is baffling to me.” 

“Out of curiosity, how long have the two of you been out?” 

“Around two years,” Roy said. He shifted to put his arm around Moss’ shoulders. “We came out one after each other, actually.” 

“So quite late, then,” Sam said. He smiled at them. “I came out as trans at fourteen seven years ago.”

“You were fourteen in 2009?” Roy blurted before he could stop himself. He shook his head, glancing at Moss. “Babe, I feel old.” 

“So do I,” Moss replied with a small laugh. The laugh was a little strained, but he seemed a bit better and more at ease than before. Leaning forward, he rested his head on Roy’s shoulder. Sam giggled, jotting something down. 

“But, anyone who read that article that came out last year will know that you both had… well, experiences is the best way to put it, I think,” he said. The two of them began to blush, looking away to the side. Then, after a moment, Roy seemed to get over himself and looked back up. 

“We actually didn’t give permission for anything that was in that article to be published,” he said, his tone a little icy. “We had no idea it had even been written until it was published.”

“God, that’s awful,” Same said, sounding truly sympathetic. Moss, who was still looking at the floor, shrugged. 

“Perils of the job,” he said. 

“You two are one of the most high-profile gay couples in the country,” Sam said. “Can you give us some sort of explanation of what that’s like?” 

“Scary?” Moss offered up. Sam nodded and made a note. 

“It’s a bit shit, to be honest,” Roy added. Sam turned to him. “Not being a couple. That bit’s great. And yeah, it’s nice when people are inspired by you, or your story helps them. But other than that, it’s shit because people make so many assumptions about you. Like, I’m not even gay.” (At this, Moss got a small yet sad smile on his face: this was a sentence he’d heard far too often from Roy.) “I’m bisexual. That means I like women too. I’ve been in love with women in the past. That doesn’t make my relationship with Moss any less special, and my current relationship doesn’t invalidate my past ones. I think people tend to forget that because to them, me being in a committed relationship with a man, the love of my life no less, automatically means I’m an absolute slag.” 

Whilst Roy had been speaking, Moss had been following along, and his facial expressions were quite something to behold. He went from agreement to slight sadness to utterly lovestruck, all the way to mildly baffled and amused. Sam, whilst he hadn’t missed a word Roy had said, had been watching Moss and was doing his best to contain his laughter. 

“That makes sense,” he instead opted to simply say. He turned back to Moss. “Am I right in saying you’re gay?” 

“Yes,” Moss said. “But I didn’t really tell anyone for years. Roy kept trying to set me up on blind dates.” 

“You could’ve just said no!” Roy complained before Sam could say anything. Moss chuckled, leaning forward towards him. 

“And since when have I ever been able to say no to you?” he murmured. Roy smiled, and they kissed quickly. Moss leaned back, fiddling with his tie. “I got arrested because I couldn’t say no to you.” 

“That was your own fault, you can’t blame me for your Grand Designs obsession,” Roy said. 

“I actually don't even like it.” 

“Then why did you try and knick five DVDs of it then!?” 

“I panicked!” 

Over to the side, Sam was dying of laughter. The couple didn’t even notice, too busy bickering among themselves. After about five minutes, everybody managed to get control of themselves and they all sat up a little straighter. 

“Let’s talk about mental health,” Sam said. This could be seen as a little blunt, but the boys were actually fairly grateful for it not being veiled and hidden in other questions. “It’s a big thing in the LGBTQ+ community, and something I’d love to chat to you guys about, if you’d be comfortable?” 

They both nodded. Roy pressed his lips together, eyes naturally shifting over to Moss. 

“I have mild PTSD, anxiety issues and I’ve been diagnosed autistic since I was three years,” Moss said. He sounded confident, more confident that he had before. “Also certain depressive tendencies.” 

“I know this is a horrible question, and you don’t have to answer, but have you ever self-harmed?” Sam asked. Moss shook his head. 

“I may have engaged in some self-destructive behaviours when I was in university, I probably put myself in risky situations, but I never actively self-harmed in the ways you’d probably think of,” he said. 

“I have,” Roy said. His voice was very quiet, almost inaudible. The other two turned to him. Sam looked shocked, but Moss just looked sad: he knew about this, but it still made him upset. Roy swallowed shakily, putting a trembling hand over his mouth. “Um, I was sixteen, and a load of shit had just kicked off. Ireland in the nineties was not the kindest to a young bisexual. I didn’t know what to do, it was late, there was no-one around and…” Roy stopped. A single tear fell from his eye and rolled down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away. “Yeah. It’s not like razors were hard to get, I went down to the woods near my house and just…” At this point, he had to stop again. After a moment, he seemed to gather himself. “I must have caught a little capillary or something, because there was so much blood. I thought for a moment, should I just keep going , but then there was more blood and it was all over my hand and I panicked. Ran all the way home, hammered my parents’ bedroom door down-- bearing in mind this was at about three a.m-- and just collapsed down on their bed sobbing my eyes out. They patched me up, calmed me down and kept a close eye on me after that. I’ve never done it since.” 

“Wow, that’s… powerful,” Sam whispered. He was scribbling frantically in his notebook. There was a long pause, and slowly Sam reached forward and clicked the tape recorder off. “You’re okay, aren’t you?” he said quietly. Roy nodded. 

“Don’t worry, I’m in good hands,” he replied. “I’ve started at therapy recently and I have a good support network. I’ll be okay.” 

“Good,” Sam said. He managed to smile at them, grabbing the tape recorder and putting it back in his bag. Standing, he offered his hand to them. They both stood, shaking it. “Thank you. You’re both incredibly well-spoken. I might email you about some follow-up questions, but this should make for a great article.”

“We’re glad to hear it,” Roy said, slipping his arm around Moss’ waist. “You have our contact details?” 

Sam nodded. The three smiled at each other, and Sam began to walk towards the front door. At the last moment before the hallway, he turned to look at them. 

“Am I alright to call you the IT nerds?” he asked. He sounded nervous. The two of them laughed, and Roy nodded. Sam seemed to let out a sigh of relief, smiling at them. He disappeared from sight, and a few seconds later they heard the door open and close again. Roy let out a deep sigh, wrapping his arms around his fiance. 

“We did it,” he mumbled, his voice a little muffled as he rested his head against Moss’ shoulder. 

“We did,” Moss replied. 

“Hang on, isn’t that what we said when we--” 

Moss stopped him talking by kissing him and the rest is, as they say, history.

Chapter Text

Time was creeping up on them far too fast, the two of them thought. Another three weeks had gone and they were now only eight days from their wedding. It was a Tuesday so they were really supposed to be working, but there wasn’t much to do, Richmond had re-materialised as suddenly as he had last disappeared (he did have a habit of popping in and out of existence, it seemed) and so they were spending their time confirming all the last-minute details. 

And it was time for their stag-dos. 

Whilst the two of them hadn’t bothered with best men, maids of honour, or indeed any of the traditional wedding party apart from themselves (and that in itself was fairly untraditional!), they had both agreed to bachelor parties. Well, Moss had. Morgan had insisted on throwing him a “proper” bachelor that she had apparently been “planning for years” and Moss, curious to see what she had planned, had said yes. Once Jen found out what was happening she had marched in from her office, pointed at Roy, told him she was throwing him a stag do and then left before he could say anything against it. 

“What time is Morgan kidnapping you again?” Roy asked that morning as they were getting ready. Moss, who was fiddling with his watch, turned to look at his fiance. 

“Around four, I think,” he said. He couldn’t contain his smile as he said, “what about you? Any idea what Jen’s planned?” 

“Wish I knew,” Roy said with a sigh and a laugh. 

“No doubt it will involve a lot of alcohol.” 

“Well, you do know what our Jen’s like.” 

They both laughed, and Moss walked over to where Roy was standing. He wrapped his arms around his partner. Roy did the same back. 

“You won’t do anything too crazy, will you?” Moss asked softly. He turned his head so his cheek was resting on his fiance’s chest. He could hear Roy’s heart beating. It was strangely comforting to him. Roy shook his head. 

“I promise,” he said. “It’ll probably just be a few drinks and a kebab on the way home. I wouldn’t worry too much, sweetheart.” 

The rest of their day at work was fairly uneventful. They just sat at work, not doing very much and trying not to be bored. There weren’t many phone calls about the computers from upstairs, so they spent most of the day messing around on their computers. Jen had brought Reggie down at around lunchtime, mainly because she knew she wouldn’t be there that night, and the three of them had spent a good hour playing with him and keeping him occupied. He was babbling away now, speaking incredibly well for his age. It was sweet to see. 

It was bang on 4 o’clock when there was a knock on the office door. Moss glanced over at Roy, a small smile creeping onto his face. This could only be one person. 

“Be safe, yeah?” Roy said, his voice soft, as Moss got up from his desk and slipped his coat on. Moss nodded, walking over and giving his fiance a quick kiss. “Call me later, let me know what’s going on.” 

“I will,” Moss replied. He smiled again. “Love you.” 

“Love you too, sweetheart. See you tomorrow.” 

“Try not to get too drunk!” 

Roy laughed, shooing his fiance out of the office. Moss giggled, blowing one last kiss to his partner before grabbing his bag, opening the door and heading out of the office.

Morgan was standing on the other side of the door. She grinned at him, holding her hand out. Moss gave her a strange look. 

“Glasses,” she said. He groaned, looking away to the side. 

“Do I have to?” he asked, his voice a little whiny. Morgan laughed.

“It’s tradition,” she laughed. She accompanied this with a small pout, and it wasn’t long before Moss relented, sighing heavily and handing his glasses over. “Good,” she said smugly as she pocketed them. “Now we can get down to business.” 

“I’m going to trip over,” Moss complained. “You know I can’t see much more than two inches in front of me.” 

“Hold my hand,” Morgan said. He sighed, but did so. With slow, fumbling movements, somehow the two of them managed to make it up the stairs and out of the building. As they walked through the lobby, Moss found himself rather glad for his lack of vision: at least he couldn’t see everyone staring at them. 

“Where are we going ?” he asked. They were outside now, he could tell. The wind was whipping on his face, and he could make out the vague outline of trees. He looked over. Morgan was close enough to him that he could see her grinning. “Morgan, tell me.” 

“It’s a surprise!” she exclaimed, grinning. Moss rolled his eyes. 

“Fine, at least tell me who’s coming.” 

“Me of course, Leanne, a few old friends from school…”

Moss took a moment to think about this. 

“Is it to do with school somehow?” he asked after a moment. Morgan’s smile widened. 

“Someone’s feeling observant today,” she joked. He rolled his eyes again. 

“School…” he murmured to himself. All of a sudden Morgan brought them both to a halt. Moss looked over at her. She just grinned at him, pressing his glasses into his hand. He took them gratefully, putting them back on. 

In front of them, parked on the curb outside the Reynholm Industries building, was what could only be described as a party bus. It was like someone had let a group of tween girls loose on an about-to-go-out-of-commission coach. There was glitter everywhere, tinsel and sparkles and every colour of the rainbow visible. It was like a bomb had gone off, if that bomb contained the entirety of a Hobbycraft. Moss’ mouth dropped open and he turned to Morgan, unable to contain his shock. 

“It’s…” he managed to say. 

“Do you like it?” Morgan asked anxiously. “I let Isabella help with the decoration.”

“It’s…” a lot “great!” 

Morgan squealed, making sure he was okay with it before jumping on him and pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Oh, I’m so glad!” she said. Tugging him forward, she walked towards the bus. “Come on! Don’t worry, I have bags in case you get carsick!”

***

It wasn’t until they turned onto the small beachside road that Moss realised where they were. 

“Connected to school, bags in case I get carsick…” Moss murmured. He took another sip of his drink (some cocktail thing that tasted nothing like alcohol and exactly like strawberry laces, something that he could definitely get behind) and then made a triumphant. “It’s Swanage! We’re going to Swanage!” 

Morgan smiled widely at him, nodding her head. She downed the rest of her drink before getting up and walking over to sit next to him. 

“We are,” she said. She sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “The first place you told me you’re gay…” 

“I didn’t exactly tell you,” Moss said. “I just said I thought I wasn’t sure if I was into girls.” 

“Same thing, smartarse.” 

The two of them grinned at each. This was taking them back. “There’s music, and food, and party games, of course,” Morgan said, turning her head to look out of the front of the coach. “Plus I’ve got a little corner of quiet.” 

“Thank you,” Moss said, his voice as sincere as ever. He smiled a little again, drinking the rest of his drink as the coach pulled to a stop at the top of the slope down to the beach. He clapped his hand against his knee, turning towards her. “Shall we go, then?” 

***

“Yeah… oh, sounds fun!... Yeah, I’m still at the office… Well, you sound like you’re having a good time, anyway… Love you too. Yeah, see you tomorrow. Bye.” 

Roy chuckled as he hung up the phone and leaned back in his office chair. “That was Moss,” he said to Richmond, who was sitting on the office sofa (if a little awkwardly). “Sounds like Morgan’s plans have worked well. Any idea what Jen’s planned?” 

“Not at all,” Richmond replied. “All she told me was to be here at seven.” 

“Same,” Roy said. The two of them sat in awkward silence for a moment. Roy opened his mouth to speak (nothing special, just some small talk) when the office door slammed open and Jen came into the office. 

She was clutching multiple blue plastic bags, plastic bags that reminded Roy of the corner shop he worked at as a teenager, as well as a couple of bags of crisps she had clasped between two fingers.

“Now I’m going to be honest, I was going to book something but then I forgot,” she announced, putting the bags down on the coffee table. Inside them, something clinked about. “So we’ve got beer, whiskey, cider, vodka, and I put some money aside for us to order a kebab.” 

“You know me so well,” Roy said with a grin. He got up and came over, throwing himself down onto the sofa. He turned to Jen, reaching forward the bag. He quirked an eyebrow, looking at the other two. “Shall we start, then?” 

***

About two hours had passed, and it was fair to say that both Jen and Roy were tipsy. 

Originally they had been playing Guitar Hero, but the novelty had quickly worn off and so they had settled for just drinking and talking. They had talked about all sorts, reminiscing on their old escapades, but now talk had turned to Moss and Roy’s relationship. 

“I still remember you telling me about when the two of you kissed outside the gas works,” Jen said as she finished another bottle of beer. She added the empty bottle to the steadily growing collection in the bag on the floor. Roy giggled a little, nodding. “Did he ever do it again? Try and kiss you to get out of trouble?” 

“I mean, he tried to when he stole all those Grand Design DVDs,” he replied. “But once I told him it wasn’t gonna work he stopped.”

“Honestly, how did you not know he was gay?” Jen asked. Roy shrugged, leaning forward and reaching for a handful of crisps. “Also was that the same day as the robot?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Ahh, that was a good hundred quid.” 

“Yeah, don’t rub it in,” Roy grumbled through a mouthful of crisps. Then he grinned. “D’you remember when we repeated that bet?” 

“Hello IT, have you tried turning it off and on again?” 

It was 9:30 in the morning, and Roy had already said this eight times today. 

Moss, who had been working with Roy for God-knows how long, didn’t seem to be registering that his boyfriend was saying this at all. However Jen, who was suffering rather badly from Aunt Irma’s current visit and so did not have her usual patience, certainly did know that he was saying it, and it was pissing her off. 

“Is there really nothing else you can say to them?” she asked him once he had hung up the phone. 

“Look, Jen, I’ve been doing this for years,” Roy said as he reached for his coffee. “It’s the best way to sort it out. If I asked everyone what was wrong every time I’d be here all day.” 

“Oh okay,” Jen said, nodding and looking down at her nails. As she began to mess with them, she shrugged and said, “I just thought that, you know, with your expertise you’d be able to not say it for one day.” 

“Oh really!?” Roy exclaimed. He put his coffee down and fixed her with a look, pointing at her with the pen he’d been fussing with. At this point Moss looked up, an amused and yet slightly haunted look on his face as he looked towards his boyfriend. “Alright then, a hundred and fifty quid says I don’t say it again today!”

“Dear, remember how this went last time,” Moss murmured. Roy glanced over at him, but only for a moment to give him a small look that seemed to say ‘don’t worry, I have this under control’ before turning back to Jen. He raised one eyebrow at her. 

“So?” he said. 

“Alright,” Jen smiled. “Hundred and fifty quid. Deal.” 

The two grinned at each other. Over at the side, Moss groaned and face-planted his desk. 

The first ten minutes were fine. There were no calls, and so Roy was just messing around on his computer. Moss hadn’t sat up, and Jen, who was doing her nails, was half-convinced he had fallen asleep on his desk. This, of course, was not true, as as soon as the phone rang he sat up, looking over to his boyfriend. Jen did the same. 

Roy was staring at the phone in panic. He looked up, glancing over to his boyfriend. Moss gave him a look that said ‘I don’t know what you expect me to do’ . Roy picked up the phone and ran over, pressing it into his boyfriend’s hands with an insistent look. Moss sighed, taking it from him. 

“Hello IT. Have you tried turning it off and on again?” he said. 

Roy turned to Jen and smiled smugly at her. Moss looked incredibly uncomfortable as whoever was on the phone continued to talk at him, apparently having entirely ignored the question. “Um, yes, I-I, I’m perfectly qualified to help you,” Moss stammered. He shot his boyfriend a deadly look. “What’s wrong with it?” He paused, listening to the person. At the same time he kicked his boyfriend in the shin. Roy made a small noise, clutching the corner of the desk as so not to fall over. “You know what, I’m actually going to hand you over to my colleague here. I think he might be more helpful to you.” 

With this, Moss shoved the phone back into Roy’s hand with a deadly look. Roy gave his boyfriend an apologetic look as he took the phone and finished the call. As normal it wasn’t anything complicated, just another stupid problem that was easily fixed without them having to even go upstairs. Once Roy put the phone down, Moss gave him a deadly look. Jen laughed to herself. 

“Roy, don’t use Moss as your mule,” she said, trying to hold back a giggle. “You’ll send the poor man mad.” 

Of course, Roy did not listen. Over the next three hours every time they got a call, Roy would walk or roll over to his boyfriend’s desk and give him such a begging look that Moss couldn’t help but answer the phone for him. He didn’t really like talking to the people on the phone, but his boyfriend has such a sweet look on his face every time that he couldn’t help but answer the phone for him. As time went on, Jen appeared to become more and more concerned: it was looking more and more like she was going to lose her money. With every call, Roy was looking more and more smug. 

At least, until Jen went out for lunch and he automatically answered the phone with his normal greeting. 

As soon as he did he let out an unintelligible yell and slammed the phone down without answering the person’s enquiry. He slapped his hand over his mouth, looking over at his boyfriend. Sure enough Moss was looking at him, a small smile on his face. 

“You cannot tell Jen,” the Irishman whispered. Moss didn’t reply, instead looking down and starting to giggle. Roy gestured wildly, feeling his heart start to speed up. “Moss! She can’t know that she’s right!” 

“But she is right,” Moss said quietly with a smile. 

“Yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that!” Moss shook his head, smiling at his boyfriend. “Mo-o-o-oss!” Roy groaned, gripping the far edge of his desk and leaning over it. “Please! I can’t lose a hundred and fifty pounds today!” 

“Alright,” Moss said, looking up at his boyfriend. Then he folded his arms across his chest and smirked. “But it’ll cost you.” 

“Moss!” Roy exclaimed again. Moss smirked at him again, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to tell Jen then,” he sighed, reaching forward for the phone. 

“No!” Roy yelled. Moss smiled smugly as Roy sighed, putting his head down on the desk for the moment before looking back up. “Alright, fine. What do you want?” 

“Hm…” Moss said, swiveling a little in his chair. He looked very proud of himself. “Well I suppose there is one thing…” 

“Again? We only did it last night…”

“Do you want me to tell Jen?” 

“Aright, alright,” Roy grumbled. He sighed, looking down at his desk. “Fine, you can beat me at Mario Kart.” 

Moss beamed at him, nodding to himself before going back to his computer. Roy let out a long sigh of relief, collapsing down onto his desk. 

He did not miss his boyfriend’s snigger. 

“I gave you a hundred and fifty quid for that bet!” Jen exclaimed. 

“I know!” Roy replied. He was doubled over laughing, barely keeping a hold on his beer as he clutched at his stomach. “Oh, it felt great!” 

“Bastard,” Jen grumbled. Reaching over, she grabbed a half-empty water bottle and threw it at him, eliciting a yell and a tirade of swearing. 

Richmond, sitting in the corner, giggled. 

***

Meanwhile in Swanage, Moss was drunk. 

He was rather enjoying being drunk. Whilst the music was loud, it wasn’t abrasive, and the local chip shop had just brought them chips down to the beach much to his delight. Everything felt floaty and just… fun! He was finally starting to understand why Roy enjoyed drinking so much. 

Right now he and Morgan were sitting on a small low-lying wall, taking a break from dancing to catch their breath back. Being more than a little tipsy, Moss was feeling very affectionate and giggly, and so was leaning against Morgan. 

“Thank you for this,” he said, his words slurred together a little. Morgan smiled at him, putting her arm around him. 

“It’s no problem,” she replied. 

“No, this is great! Really really great.” 

“You’re sweet when you’re drunk.” 

“Roy says so too.” 

At this moment, an older man who had been walking across the beach with his dog came closer. Morgan, having spotted him from a mile off, tensed a little. Moss had not noticed at all. As he came up to them, he told his dog to sit and approached with a smile on his face. 

“Stag party?” he asked. Morgan nodded. 

“How did you know?” she asked with a small laugh. The man chuckled. 

“It’s been the talk of the town for the past few days,” he said. He smiled at them. “Congratulations on getting married, the two of you!” 

Morgan opened her mouth to say something, but in that moment something seemed to snap in Moss. Clumsily he rose from the wall, stumbling forward. He pointed at the man, but went a little too vigorous with it and accidentally ended up poking him in the chest. He paused, smoothing down the small crinkle he’d made in the man’s shirt before looking back up at him. 

“Don’t assume!” he shouted. “My future husband just isn’t here! I’m gay! Not everyone is straight, you know!” 

Morgan jumped up, putting her hand on his shoulder. 

“Moss, it’s alright, he didn’t know,” she murmured. 

“It’s not okay!” he yelled. “Everyone assumes! But I’m not straight, and I never have been!” 

“I know,” Morgan said. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume,” the man said. Moss turned back to him. His eyes were a little teary. “I think it’s really great. Hope you have a great wedding day.” 

“Thank you,” Moss said. Seemingly unable to stop himself, he surged forward and wrapped the man in a tight hug. Morgan giggled, mouthing an apology to the stunned looking gentleman. Eventually Moss let him go and he stumbled off down the beach with his dog, much to Morgan’s amusement. 

“Come on,” she said to Moss once she managed to stop laughing. “Let’s go dance some more!” 

Moss grinned and nodded. 

***

“Moss ‘s texting me,” Roy proclaimed, holding up his beer. When he realised his mistake, he lowered it and then thrust his phone up in the air. Jen, who had been slumped on the armchair, sat up and scrambled forward. 

“Oo, what’s he saying!?” she asked.

“Summat about assumptions…” Roy said, squinting at the screen. “Party games, dancing, and-- o-o-o-o-o-okay, he’s drunk.” 

Jen laughed, slumping down a little again. 

“Honestly, Moss and alcohol are so separate in my brain,” she said. “Even when he ended up bartending that one night at the theatre.” 

“God, do you remember that night!?” 

If Roy had to hear the words “I like willies” sung one more time, he was going to shoot himself. 

They’d been on the road for about two hours or so now, and as more and more time went past Roy got less and less optimistic about escaping. Hell, he’d been trying to escape all evening! First the musical itself, then that overly persistent and lovely manager (he really would have to send them a letter of appraisal once this whole ordeal was over) and now this damn bus! The leatherhead next to him seemed to have taken a particular shine to him, so he was awkwardly trying to keep up with the conversation the man was having with him whilst looking around and trying to figure out if jumping from the minibus on this motorway would result in his death. 

It was around 11 p.m, and they had just driven into Birmingham. Well, near Birmingham. Roy let out a sigh of relief as he realised that they were pulling into a service station. Thank God. Maybe this was his chance? 

“Who needs to go out for a smoke?” the driver called back as he pulled the bus to a halt in the service station’s car park. Immediately all of the hands in the bus went up, save one: the leatherhead. Of course. Roy suppressed a sigh, looking up at the ceiling. Why could he not catch a break today?

The two of them sat in stone-cold silence for ten minutes as the rest of the men were loaded off the van. Roy let out a sigh of relief when the driver left his door unlocked. Good. He could escape through the front and run off before anyone noticed. As soon as the door was safely closed, he turned towards the leatherhead. 

“Look, I’m not actually disabled,” he said before the other man could say anything. “This whole thing is a massive misunderstanding, and I need to get back to London. Don’t tell anyone that I’ve gone.” 

“You’re… not actually disabled?” the leatherhead asked. Roy nodded, standing up to prove his point. The leatherhead made a small face. “But you are gay, aren’t you?” 

“No!” Roy said automatically. Then he made a frustrated sound. “Yes. Kind of. It’s complicated, alright!?” 

“Fine, I won’t tell anyone,” the leatherhead said. Roy let out a sigh of relief. “On one condition?” 

“What?” Roy said. He was nervous, but at the same time he desperately needed to get out of here. 

“One kiss? For me?” 

You know what, Roy thought, this is not a huge price to pay for me getting out of here. Sighing, he leaned down and pecked the man as quickly as he could on the lips. With that, he turned and sprinted down the bus. Wrenching the driver’s door open, he turned back to the stunned-looking leatherhead and gave him a small smile before swinging out and absconding off into the night. 

Given that it was 11p.m, there weren't too many people about. His legs were a little numb for sitting in the same position for too long, and so he took a few laps around the outside of the service station to get the feeling back in them. On the third time round, he noticed that the minibus had gone. Thank God. He didn’t have to worry about them anymore. 

He’d had a hard night, and he was utterly done. Walking into the service station, he located the first small supermarket he could find and bought the cheapest bottle of whiskey they sold. That nearly cleared his bank account out, and when he checked his phone it was dead. Typical. Just his luck. Resolving to sort this out in the morning, he stumbled out of the service station and sat on the floor, legs splayed awkwardly as he popped the cap off the whiskey and began to drink. 

It was nice, he thought, the way that the alcohol seemed to wash his problems away. Now he had a decent buzz going, he wasn’t as worried about the fact that he somehow had to get back to London in time for work tomorrow morning and all he had was a dead phone, no charger and £3.50 in his bank account. He had been in many pickles, but this was one where he genuinely had no idea how he was going to get out of it. 

He must have been sitting there for about forty minutes or so when a little beat up Ford pulled up outside of the service station. From the driver’s window poked a man’s head. 

“Where you tryna get to, mate?” he asked. He had a thick Birmingham accent. Roy looked up from where he had been staring at the ground in shock.

“London, if possible,” he heard himself saying. 

“Well, I’m not going to London but I can give you a lift to the train station?” the man said. Roy nodded dumbly, staggering up and getting into the car without a second thought. When he later reflected on this moment, he thanked his lucky stars that he hadn’t been murdered that night. “You look like you’ve been through it,” the man remarked as they pulled out of the service station back onto the motorway. Roy made a small noise. 

“Like you won’t believe,” he said. 

“So London, eh? How have you ended up here?” 

“It’s a long story that involves a gay musical, a disabled toilet and Laura Knightley.” 

“I have time.” 

Over the next thirty minutes, Roy explained to this stranger that he’d known for all of an hour the complicated story that had led him to this point in his life. Somehow he found himself explaining about his and Moss’ friendship, telling the man about all the crazy shenanigans they’d got up to over the years. Eventually he got back on track and told the man how he’d managed to escape the dreaded bus (leaving out the kiss with the leatherhead of course). 

“Wow,” the man eventually said once he’d paused for a considerable amount of time to be able to process what he’d just been told. “Well, I have to say that your life is much more interesting than mine.” 

“I’m sure yours is just fine,” Roy said. He turned his head to look at the man. “Why were you out this late anyway?” 

“Promise you won’t judge me?” the man asked nervously. Roy fixed him with a look.

“You do remember what I just told you?” 

The man chuckled, nodding. 

“I got a text from a girl with the vaguest suggestion that we might have sex, and I drove down to Cambridge to meet her,” he said. Roy paused for a moment. 

“Did you have sex with her?” 

“Yeah,” the man said. Roy grinned at him, and the two of them high-fived. Roy sighed, readjusting his hand on the whiskey bottle as the car drew to a stop. “Here you are,” the man said. 

“Thanks for the lift mate,” Roy replied. The man smiled at him. 

“No problem. Good luck getting home.” 

Roy gave him a small smile. Climbing out the car, he watched as the man sped off into the distance. Sighing, he turned around. Birmingham New Street, right. Maybe he could get a train? Get it on his emergency credit card. Swigging the last of the whiskey out of the bottle, he dumped the empty bottle into the bin at the door and tried to stumble into the building. 

The door was locked. 

To be fair, it did make sense. It was midnight, after all. Roy made a frustrated noise, slamming his fist against the door. How the hell was he supposed to get home now!? Turning around, he slid down the door until he was sitting in a heap on the floor. This was just the worst day ever. Ever ever ever. He had been about to curl up in a ball, hope something killed him before he woke up and go to sleep, but just as he lay down he spotted a payphone out of the corner of his eye.

A payphone, of course! He staggered up, running over to it. Digging through his pockets, he managed to find a load of change in one pocket. Yes! This would work! Having to stop his drunken brain from phoning his mother for some comfort, he forced himself to dial Jen’s number. He crossed his fingers in hope. 

“Who is this?” Jen asked when she picked up. She sounded tired, and a little like she’d been crying. 

“Jen, it’s me!” he shouted. Hurriedly he posted another twenty pence into the slot. 

“Roy?” 

“A situation has happened. I’m in Birmingham. Can you come pick me up?” 

“Roy, that’s a two and a half hour drive,” she groaned. 

“Please? I’m at New Street train station.” 

“Then get a train!” 

“It’s closed! I’m not spending the night in Birmingham, Jen!” 

“Alright, fine.” 

“Thank you, thank you! Sorry, money’s running out, gotta--” 

Before he could get the end of the sentence out, the money ran out and the phone line went dead. Grinning, Roy put the phone back on the hook, punching the air. Yes! 

When Jen showed up, two and a half hours later, he was not feeling quite so happy. 

The whiskey had set in after about an hour of sitting around, and his body had violently rejected it. Now three bins and a public toilet bore the remnants of his stomach’s angry rebellion towards him. Once he’d managed to stop throwing up, he dragged himself back over to the station and sat down on the pavement, feeling utterly miserable. The buzz of the alcohol had completely gone now and he just felt like shit. Ugh. He knew it was bad to drink whiskey. 

Jen pulled up outside the station with a screech of tires. When he looked up, she had already opened the passenger side door. 

“Get in,” she said through gritted teeth. 

“Are you in your pyjamas?” Roy asked as he got in and closed the door. Indeed Jen was wearing small cloth shorts and a vest top under a zip up hoodie, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She turned to him and fixed him with a glare. 

“You can get out and fucking walk to London if you want,” she said. Roy shook his head quickly, putting his seatbelt on. She nodded, turning the car on and pulling off. 

The first hour and a half was silent. Roy was staring out at the horizon trying very hard not to be sick, and Jen was silently fuming as she drove. Eventually, somewhere around Oxford, Jen turned to look at Roy for a moment. 

“I don’t look like a man, do I?” she asked quietly.

“What makes you think that?” Roy replied. He kept staring out of the window. 

“Just something Phillip said.” 

“Don’t listen to him,” he said. When Jen didn’t reply, he actually turned to look at her. “Jen, seriously. You’re feminine and gorgeous and amazingly pretty. He’s just tryna justify stuff to himself.”

Jen smiled at him. 

“Thank you, Roy.” 

“No problem. Now you should probably pull over, I’m about to throw up all over your car.” 

“D’you remember when we got back?” Jen said with a laugh. Roy smiled, nodding. “Moss was sitting there on the office sofa because you were supposed to take him home?” 

“When I asked him about it, he said that it was because he didn’t want to risk his mother’s wrath for waking her up,” he said. That sent Jen into a fit of giggles, making her hiccup and writhe a little on the sofa. Roy gave her a bit of a concerned look, but she managed to get herself under control. 

“I’m sorry, that’s just so Moss,” she said. Roy nodded with a laugh. They both fell quiet for a while. Jen was just sipping at her drink when all of a sudden Roy gasped and jumped up, pointing at her. 

“You’ve slept with my husband!” he roared. For some reason, this sent Jen into another laughing fit. A highly confused Roy sank back down onto the sofa, nudging her a bit. “How did you sleep with him before I did!?” 

“We didn’t exactly sleep together,” Jen said after a moment. Roy cocked his head to the side in confusion. 

“What?” 

“Well…” 

Jen didn’t stop screaming for a whole minute.

During that time, Moss started to look rather puzzled. He assumed more of his normal awkward stance, giving her a strange look. 

“Why did you scream?” he asked once she fell silent. Breathing heavily, she gave him a shocked look. “You know who I am.” 

“What!?” she exclaimed. “Wh-why are you in that!?” 

“Well, um, I couldn’t exactly find my clothes,” he said a little awkwardly. 

“Oh my God, this is just my luck,” she sighed. Holding the covers up to her, she dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom to try and wash last night’s makeup off her face. Moss followed her, sitting himself on the edge of the bath. She turned to him. “Look, whatever happened last night…”

“What do you mean--”

“We were both drunk.” 

“I didn’t drink all--” 

“I’ve been annoyed because of Aunt Irma.”

“That wasn’t--” 

“So it didn’t mean anything, okay?” 

“I’m confused,” Moss said quietly. When Jen turned to look at him fully, she noticed that he was flapping his hands a little. 

“What are you doing with your hands?” she asked, if a little bluntly. Immediately Moss looked guilty, balling both of his hands into fists. 

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry. I can normally stop it.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Jen said. She sighed. “Why are you confused?” 

“Well, what do you think happened last night?” he asked. Jen gave him her ‘are you stupid?’ look. 

“We slept together.” 

At this, Moss started to laugh a little. It was a relieved laugh, which puzzled Jen greatly. 

“We didn’t sleep together,” he said after a moment. Jen let out a sigh of relief, slumping over the bathroom sink. “No offence, Jen, but you are really not my type.” 

(“Bet that didn’t make much sense until he told you!” Roy chortled at this. Jen hit him with a cushion.)

“So we didn’t sleep together?” Jen said. “We did nothing in that… department?” 

“Nothing at all,” Moss said with a shake of his head. 

“Then why are you wearing… that?” 

At this Moss blushed. 

“As I said, you hid my clothes last night…” lowering his head, he looked to the side and murmured, “...and it feels nice and soft on my skin.” 

“Alright,” Jen said with a laugh. Lowering the toilet lid, she sat down on it. “So what actually happened last night?” 

“You don’t remember?” 

“I was drunk, Moss.” 

Moss shook his head, rolling his eyes and tutting a little. Jen fixed him with an eye roll of her own. 

“Well, after Roy went home with Dr Mendel--”

“No!” Jen exclaimed. Moss nodded. 

“I don’t think she’s my girlfriend anymore,” he said. “Anyway, after they left, I was the only sober one there. You were very, very drunk, and I wanted to make sure you got home safely.” 

“That’s sweet,” Jen said with a smile. Moss gave her a small smile in return. “But why didn’t you… take advantage of me?” 

“Why would I?” Moss asked, seemingly nonplussed. He sounded very confused. Jen shrugged. 

“Well most guys would,” she said.

“You may have tried to kiss me a few times…” 

“Oh no.” 

“And hidden my clothes…” 

“Oh God!” 

“Yeah, where are they?” Moss asked. Jen made a small noise, putting her head in her hands. Moss reached forward, putting his hand on her shoulder. “But you were drunk. Drunk consent isn’t proper consent, especially when as drunk as you were.” He shrugged, moving away a little. “And as I said, you’re not really my type.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jen murmured. Her voice was muffled by her hands. Moss gave her another small smile. 

“We’re friends, Jen,” he said. “It’s fine.” 

“Thank you for not sleeping with me and making work awkward.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

The two of them fell silent for a while, both looking at the most random places they could find in the bathroom. Eventually Jen cleared her throat and went to move. 

Moss tried to do the same, but lost his balance and toppled backwards into the bath. 

“ That explains the lump on his head that was there the next day!” Roy exclaimed. He threw his hands up, letting them fall back into his knees with a clap. “I was wonderin’ about that for ages .” 

“Why didn’t you just ask him?” Jen asked. Roy shrugged a little, draining his bottle of beer. “I mean, you’re marrying him in a week.” 

“I always meant to,” he said a little defensively. “It’s just I always forgot to, and then it got longer and longer and longer ago and eventually it felt silly to say ‘hey, you remember ten years ago? Yeah, why did you have that lump on your head?’ ” 

“Yeah, but it’s Moss. It probably wouldn’t phase him. He had like a photographic memory or some shit.” 

“Jen, his memory is shit ,” Roy said. He sounded astounded that she didn’t know this. Jen did a double take. 

“But he can tell you, like, anything about computers,” she said. “And Star Wars and all that nerdy shit you two are into.” 

“They’re his special interests,” he replied. “They’re different. I once asked him to put the washing in and he managed to forget whilst walking up the stairs to get it.” 

“What’re special interests?” Jen asked. 

Now, when he was normal and fully sober, Roy would have no trouble answering this question in a (somewhat) delicate and respectful manner. However, Roy was drunk. When he was drunk, all sense of delicateness fell away from him and he was struggling with an explanation. 

“Um…” he stammered. Jen was still watching him and now Richmond, who had been sitting very quietly in the corner and playing on his phone, was listening too. “Well, it’s like when you like something, but… more.” 

“So do you have that too?” she asked. Roy shrugged a little. 

“Mine are more like hyperfixations,” he said. Groaning, he ran his hand across his face. “Look, it’s late. Too late to be talking about this.”

“Did you ever listen to what that girl said about you?” Jen said. Roy took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He knew it was going to come to this somehow. 

“I’m not autistic,” he said quietly. “My therapist thinks I might have ADHD and maybe dyspraxia--”

“What’s that?” 

“Means I’m shit at co-ordinating myself.”

Jen held up her finger. Roy fell silent as she grabbed her phone and clumsily typed something into it. After a moment, she nodded, putting it back.

“That explains a lot ,” she said. Roy nodded. Yawning, she turned on the sofa, curling up and positioning her head at the end where all the cushions were. “What about Moss?”

“That’s… not for me to say, Jen,” he said a little awkwardly. Jen whined, kicking him in the thigh. 

“Oh come on, tell me!” she said. Roy sighed frustratedly. 

“Alright, fine, although I’m fairly sure you already know,” he replied. “He’s autistic.” 

“Doesn’t really affect him,” Jen mumbled. Roy shot her a look, then paused for a moment. 

“I guess not,” he said quietly. “It’s just sorta… part of him, I guess. Wouldn’t change that for the world, and neither would he I don’t think. The only time he doesn’t seem to really like it is when meltdowns happen.” 

“Meltdowns?” 

“‘S hard to explain. He just… gets overwhelmed. I don’t know Jen, Google it.” 

There was quiet for a little while. Roy groaned, forcing himself to stand and pick up some of the empty bottles that had fallen from the bags onto the floor. He thought Jen had fallen asleep, and had been about to grab a blanket for her and resort to spending the night under his desk (well it wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before) when all of a sudden her small voice said, 

“You know, I wish you could see the way the two of you look at each other. It’s like you're each other’s everything.” 

Roy turned to her. He shot her a smile. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “He is everything to me now.” 

“You two are disgustingly happy,” she replied. They grinned at each other. 

“Go to sleep, Jen,” Roy said. “I’ll wake you up in the morning.” 

Jen smiled at him, and promptly fell asleep. 

***

In the end, Roy did not get Jen up. Actually, he didn’t even get himself up. Richmond, who had been trying to find the right time to leave almost all night, had given up and just stayed. He’d brewed a big pot of coffee, grabbed some painkillers from Jen’s desk drawer and gently nudged Roy awake. The Irishman had groaned, muttering a barely coherent “thank you” to Richmond when he handed him a coffee and some painkillers. The goth hadn’t dared to wake Jen: he’d just left a cup of coffee and the last of the painkillers on the coffee table. 

Moss stumbled into the office somewhere around ten. He looked rather worse for wear, and had sand all in his hair as well as all over his clothes. Straight away he made a beeline for his fiance, who pulled him into his lap and gave him a hug. 

“How was it?” Roy murmured. Moss chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I wish I could explain it,” he said. He turned, resting his head on his fiance’s shoulder. “What about you?” 

“Ditto.” 

The two of them laughed, and suddenly found themselves more glad than ever that they had each other.

Chapter Text

Jen woke up somewhere around midday. By this point the boys had managed to nip home, get a shower and a change of clothes, and pick up breakfast on their way to the office. Well, it was more like a brunch now, and it was a McDonalds, but let’s not get tangled up in syntax. When she awoke she staggered upwards, looked at them, grunted and stumbled into her office, slamming the door behind her. At their respective desks Moss and Roy winced. 

“Seems like you two had a good night last night,” Moss remarked as he bit into a chicken nugget. Roy nodded, still stirring his takeaway coffee. “What have we got to do today, anyway?” 

“That’s a good question,” Roy said. He groaned a little as he shifted in his chair, getting his phone out of his pocket. He opened it up, squinting at the screen. Then his face went a little slack, and he looked up at his fiance. 

“What?” Moss asked, his mouth full of nuggets.

“We’re supposed to be picking my parents up from the airport in an hour.” 

The two of them stopped, staring at each other. Moss swallowed his bite of food. There was no sound for a while, except for Jen groaning quietly in her office. Then Moss shrugged a little. 

“We’re both clean,” he said. “I could probably do with a shave, but it’ll be fine.” 

“Sweetheart, I was still drinking not that long ago,” Roy replied. “There’s no way I’m okay to drive.” 

“Well I can’t drive!” 

“Just take a fucking taxi!” Jen shouted from the other room. The two of them looked at each other, both looking a little ashamed that they couldn’t come up with that idea. 

“I am not prepared for an airport right now,” Roy said with a groan. He ducked his head a little to sip his coffee. “I’m so hungover.” 

“I can go, if you want,” Moss said with a shrug as he pushed the rest of his food away. Roy looked up at him.

“You were drunk last night,” he said. “Just as drunk as I was, judging by the messages you were sending. How are you not hungover?” 

“I am!” Moss exclaimed. “Just… not as badly as you somehow.” 

At this Roy shook his head a little. 

“Whatever,” he said. “No, I’ll go pick them up. Do you wanna come?” 

“...Do I have to?” 

Roy smiled at his fiance. He shook his head. 

“No, not if you don’t want to,” he said. Moss gave him a small smile. 

“Then I’ll pass, darling.”

“Fair enough.” 

They were both quiet for the next little while, not doing much except staring down at their desks. At some point Moss pulled a comic out from his desk and began to read. Jen had left soon after the office had become quiet. About half an hour later Roy forced himself up, coming over and kissing the top of his fiance’s head. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he said. Moss nodded, looking up and smiling at him. 

“I’ll clean the office whilst you’re picking them up,” he said. 

“I don’t think you ha--” Roy started to say, but then he looked around the office. There were bottles and food packets all over the floor, and what looked suspiciously like half a kebab in the corner. Turning back to his fiance, he nodded. “Good idea actually.” 

Moss giggled. They kissed quickly before Roy grabbed his jacket and left the office to go pick his parents up. 

Luckily he managed to get a cab fairly easily. Almost two minutes into him getting into the cab his phone began pinging like crazy. It was Moss, of course, texting him with a little monologue of what he was doing in the office. Roy chuckled, shaking his head. Moss’ typing speed was astronomical: had been when he’d had a Nokia, now it was utterly insane. He could hardly get a text in edgewise! Eventually the messages slowed a little, and Roy managed to send Moss a few messages replying to a couple of questions he had asked (namely whether they had a hoover, or at the very least a brush, anywhere in the office). By the time the messages had been sent he was almost at the airport, and he stashed his phone back in his pocket as they rounded into the airport pick up zone. 

“Wait here mate, here’s an extra tenner for you to stay,” he said. The cabbie nodded, taking the money. “I’ll be twenty minutes tops.” 

Hopping out of the cab, he headed out into the airport.

The airport, of course, was busy. It was very loud, which wasn’t treating Roy’s poor hungover head very well. As an announcement rang out over the tannoy, Roy did his best not to groan. Looking up at the big screen, he squinted as he tried to read which gate his parents were coming in from. It wasn’t long before he gave up, simply opting to stand in the main foyer and wait for them to show up. They had to eventually, right? 

Sure enough, about ten minutes into Roy awkwardly standing there and trying not to be in the way of anyone actually trying to get anywhere, he saw his parents emerge at the top of the foyer. He raised his hand to them, and saw his mother smile back. 

“Hi,” he said once they reached him. 

“I can’t believe this is happening!” his mother squealed as she pulled him into a hug. Roy nodded a little, glancing over at his dad. 

“Good stag?” his dad asked a little cheekily. Roy made a face, but soon smiled. 

“Certainly interesting,” he said. His mum finally let him go. He grinned at them, reaching for a couple of their bags and taking them. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said as they began to walk out of the airport. His parents smiled at him. 

“It’s your wedding, sweetheart, of course we’re here,” his mother said. “Where’s Moss?” 

“The office. It needed a bit of cleaning and he finds these places a bit loud.” 

“Don’t we all?” Roy’s father murmured. Roy chuckled. 

“Oh, I am looking forward to seeing him again,” his mother said. Roy made a small noise, turning to her and pretending to look offended. 

“Really, mother?” he said. “You’ve not been looking forward to seeing me, you own-- nay, your only son?” 

“Shush, you silly boy,” she replied, although it was half-hearted. “How’s the planning going?” 

“It’s pretty much all done now,” Roy said. He stood to the side as they reached the waiting cab, letting his parents get in. He chucked their cases in before clambering in and telling the driver to go back to Reynholm Industries. “Just a case of picking stuff up and sorting the venue out.” 

“It’s so exciting!” his mum exclaimed. Roy nodded, smiling. He did have to admit that it was rather thrilling: if not a little stressful. 

“Moss and I are cooking dinner tonight,” he said. His parents glanced at each other, and he didn’t miss the look they gave each other. He narrowed his eyes. “What?” 

“You know we love you boys…” his dad said. 

“But-- well I can’t speak for Moss, but I know you are fairly useless when it comes to cooking,” his mum finished. Roy gasped, offended. 

“Mum!” he said. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not trying to be mean but I once watched you try to boil an egg with non-boiling water.” 

Roy humphed, folding his arms and looking out of the window of the cab. 

“Well Moss is doing most of the cookin’ anyway,” he grumbled. 

He heard his mother and father laugh, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

***

When they got to the office, Roy found himself letting out a sigh of relief when he looked around the office and saw that it was more clean than it had been in a long while. Moss was standing in one spot, smiling but looking a little shifty. He didn’t move when they entered, instead simply doing his best to smile at them. When his parents turned away to greet Jen (who they had never actually met before: Roy was surprised that he hadn’t introduced them when they’d been over at Christmas), Roy turned to his fiance and mouthed a question to him. In response Moss moved away slightly to reveal a decent pile of rubbish. Roy made a face, and Moss nodded and moved back in front of it. 

“So Moss, Roy tells us you’re making dinner later,” Roy’s mum said once they had chatted to Jen a little and cooed over Reggie, who Peter had dropped off whilst Roy had been away. Moss got a deer-in-headlights look but nodded, and Jen gave Roy a look that seemed to say “how do you think this is going to go?”. Roy shrugged a little, glancing back to his fiance. 

“Ingredients are all in the cupboard,” he said lowly. “We talked about it yesterday?” 

“Did you really expect me to remember that?” Moss hissed back. Then he smiled at Roy’s parents. “Um, yes, well I’m certainly going to try to.” He turned back to Roy, giving his fiance a deadly look disguised under a smile. “Roy, why don’t you take your parents around London? We won’t be much fun if we’re cooking the whole time.” 

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Roy said quickly. “Yeah, good idea babe.” He turned to his parents. “You two okay with that?” 

Roy’s dad shrugged noncommittally, and his mum nodded with a smile. Obviously it was still only mid-afternoon, and so Joan and Michael stuck around the office for a little while. Moss managed to nudge most of the rubbish behind a drawer before coming over and sitting behind his desk. He and Roy kept emailing each other to talk about more… sensitive issues (namely a mini argument about how the hell Moss was going to cook) without them knowing. At around 4, Roy left the office with his parents in tow, giving Moss a quick kiss and casting a nervous look back at him as he walked out. His hopes weren’t helped when Moss gave him a hopeless look back. 

He was in the Natural History Museum, reading a sign about dinosaurs when his phone rang. He glanced over at his parents to check that they were a safe distance away (they were: they were over looking at the dinosaur skeleton) before answering. 

“Roy, I’ve messed up!” Moss exclaimed as soon as the Irishman picked up the phone. 

“Woah, hang on, hang on, messed up how?” Roy asked. He edged a little further towards the edge of the room, holding the phone closer to his ear. There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment, and then Roy heard beeping. “Moss, what the hell is going on?” 

“I’ve burned it!” 

“Burned what?” 

“Everything!” 

“Sweetheart, it was an easy recipe. How did you burn it?” 

“I don’t know, but there’s smoke and it smells bad and I don’t know what to do!” 

Roy paused for a moment, putting one hand over his eyes. 

“Okay, well… are there any actual flames?” he asked a little desperately. He could hear the panic in his boyfriend’s voice, and knew that just asking him simple questions would help him to actually establish what was going on. 

“No,” Moss said, his voice quiet. 

“Is the food salvageable at all?” 

“It’s black, Roy. I don’t think it even counts as food anymore.” 

“Okay…” Roy took a moment to think this over. “Have we got anything else in the house foodwise?” 

There was a pause. 

“Chicken nuggets and frozen chips?” Moss replied. Roy made a slightly frustrated noise. 

“No, that won’t work…” he said. Once again, there was a long pause. “Fuck it, shall we just get ‘em a takeaway and say something went out of date?” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Roy chuckled. 

“Alright. I’ll see you at home in about an hour or two?” 

“Yep. Love you.” 

“Love you too. Bye.” 

Roy couldn’t help but smile as he pocketed his phone again. Sidling over to his parents, he leaned against the barrier of the exhibit they were looking at like a bored teenager trying to signal to his parents that he wants to go home. His parents turned to look at him. “So-o-o-o-o-o, Moss burned the dinner. Don’t tell him I told you. Just act surprised-slash-disappointed when he tells you we’re having takeaway.” 

The two of them nodded, and Joan chuckled a little. Roy smiled a bit. 

“Typical,” she mumbled as they moved away from the dinosaur exhibit. 

Roy did his very best not to glare at his mother, he really did, but he may not have succeeded. 

***

The (takeaway) dinner went down very well. As Moss and Roy, and Joan and Michael had secretly all agreed (away from the other couple, of course), it was probably for the best that the planned dinner never went ahead, as the four of them getting food poisoning a week before the wedding was not exactly ideal. 

Moss and Roy were still in bed the next morning when they heard a knock on their door. 

“Roy,” Moss murmured, poking his fiance in the side of the head. Roy mumbled something unintelligible before flopping over onto his back. Moss poked him again. “Roy!” 

“What?” Roy grumbled back. 

“There’s someone at the door.” 

“Can’t you answer it?” Roy made a strange series of noises before turning to look at his fiance, who was lying on his side and watching him nervously. “You’re way more awake than I am.” 

“Plea-a-a-a-a-se?” Moss said beggingly. Roy sighed. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” he mumbled. Moss grinned at him, leaning forward and giving him a quick kiss on the lips before rolling over onto his other side and grabbing his phone. Roy let out another sigh, forcing himself up. He stumbled a little as he reached for his phone whilst on his way out of the bedroom, remembering to grab his dressing gown at the last moment. As he put it on, he walked through the house, squinting up at the clock. Nine o’clock. Not too early, then.

There was no post on the mat when he got there, which he found a little strange. He’d been assuming up until this point that it was just the postwoman delivering something they’d ordered and forgotten about. Managing to wake himself up a little, he crept forward and peeked out of the peephole. 

It was his parents. Of bloody course. Roy groaned heavily, turning around and leaning his back against the door. It was too early for this. It was way too early for this. He took a deep breath before turning around and opening the door. 

“Good morning!” his mother chirped. She pushed past him into the flat, bustling into the kitchen and over to the coffee maker. Roy groaned again as he leaned his head against the edge of the door and closed his eyes. He heard his father mumble something as he came past him into the flat. Good, at least he sounded tired too. 

“Mum, it’s nine in the morning ,” Roy said. His voice cracked a little towards the end of the sentence. 

“So?” she said, nonplussed. She gestured to him with a mug. “Do you want coffee, love?” 

Roy paused. He opened his eyes, shutting the front door and turning to look at her. 

“Yes!” he exclaimed. He let out a long frustrated noise, putting his head in his hands. “What are you doin’ here? We aren’t even up yet.” 

“Well you’re up now, and that’s what matters,” she replied. Roy threw his hands up, shaking his head and stalking back into the bedroom, ignoring the calls from his mother as he did so. 

He slammed the bedroom door, flopping back down onto the bed. Moss, who was sitting up now, gave him a strange look. 

“So my parents are here,” he said. 

“Okay,” Moss replied with a small shrug. Roy turned his head to look at him. 

“You’re okay with this?” he asked. Moss shrugged again, moving to get up. 

“I have very little feelings towards it, to be entirely honest. Did they say they were coming?” 

Grabbing his phone, Roy clicked it on. Sure enough, there was a message from his mother there. 

“Well, yeah, but…” 

He trailed off. Moss gave him a small smile, coming over and giving him a quick kiss. 

“It’ll be fine,” he said softly. Roy smiled at him, sitting back up on the bed. “We better get dressed.” 

“Yeah,” Roy replied. 

They got dressed quickly. Moss got a good laugh out of watching his fiance hop around their bedroom trying to put a sock on, or at least he did until Roy tripped over and nearly cracked his head open on the side of the bedside cabinet. After that Moss made him sit down to put his other sock on. Then they kissed quickly before walking back into their living room.

Joan looked very at home, holding her cup of coffee to her chest and sitting on the sofa scrolling through her phone. When they came into the room, she looked up at them. 

“Hello loves,” she said with a smile. They smiled at her, coming over and sitting down next to her. She reached to the side and then passed her son a cup of coffee. He accepted it with a tired sigh of relief. “So, what are the wedding plans for today?”

The boys shrugged. 

“Nothin’ really,” Roy replied. His mother shook her head at them. 

“When we” (at this point she glanced over at her husband) “were a week out from our wedding we were rushed off our feet doing stuff.”

“I guess we’ve just been organised,” her son said. He sipped his coffee in an attempt to wake himself up a little more. Moss made a small noise, nodding and shifting in his seat. Roy’s mum rolled her eyes, reaching over to ruffle her son’s hair a little. He pulled away and glared at her. 

“Your hair needs a cut,” she said. 

“Will you get off that?” he grumbled. 

“It’s true,” she replied matter-of-factly. Roy huffed, turning to his dad. 

“Tell her it’s fine?” 

His father looked up at him. Slowly he shook his head. 

“Just do as your Ma tells you,” he mumbled. 

Roy threw his hands up, throwing himself back down against the sofa. Moss giggled, looking down at his lap. 

“We have hair clippers in the bathroom…” he said quietly. 

Roy turned to him, a betrayed look on his face. On his other side Joan looked thrilled, putting down her tea just to clap her hands together in excitement. Michael seemed to have woken up a little more now, as he was smirking, watching his son very carefully. He remembered when the two of them would row like this when Roy was still living at home. Shockingly, Roy had never won these arguments. 

“I mean, I used to--” she started to say, but Roy cut her off. 

“No!” he shouted. Moss was properly beginning to laugh now, avoiding his fiance’s eyes. “Remember how that went the last time you tried to cut my hair!” 

“It wasn’t that bad…” Joan said. Roy goggled at her. 

“I had to wear a hat for a month , mother.” 

At this, Moss absolutely lost it. The image of his fiance as a teenager, all gangly and tall with a knitted beanie cap (he’d seen photos of Roy from this time period) firmly jammed on top of his head was simply hilarious to him. 

“Well yes, but I’ve got better since then!” Joan protested with a slight pout. Roy gave her a disbelieving look and folded his arms across his chest as he scoffed a little. “Look at your dad, I do his hair now and he looks fine, doesn’t he?” 

“Yeah, but Dad doesn’t really have any hair, does he?” Roy said. After this, he turned to his father. “No offence, Dad.” 

“None taken,” Michael grunted. Moss, in the corner, was still having a breakdown. 

“Oh come on, it’ll be fine, I promise!” Joan said, turning to her son and grabbing his hands. Roy sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. “Moss?” 

At the mention of his name, Moss appeared to suddenly regain all composure and sat straight up, nodding a little in acknowledgement. “Let me do your hair first, show him that it’s okay?” 

Now it was Roy’s turn to laugh. Moss’ face was an absolute picture, filled with panic and shock and indecision. When he opened his mouth to say something, all that came out was a noise that was reminiscent of a cat being strangled. Roy let this happen for about a minute before his compassion got the better of him and he leaned forward, patting his mum on the shoulder. 

“He doesn’t like people touching his hair, mum,” he said softly. She made a small ah noise, shooting Moss a quick apologetic look. He nodded back at her. Roy sighed again. Dammit. 

“Alright, fine,” he said. His mum squealed happily, pulling him forward towards her. “If you ruin it I swear to God I’ll cry.” 

“Oh shush, you silly boy,” Joan said absent-mindedly. She turned to her husband. “Michael! Fetch the trimmers.” 

Instantly, Roy could feel himself regretting his decision. 

***

In the end, the hair cutting did not go entirely awfully. Joan actually did a surprisingly good job, but it still… wasn’t great . Definitely not wedding-worthy. She’d actually barely cut anything off, nostalgically running her hands through his long curls (he hadn’t had a haircut in quite some time due to laziness) and recalling stories of Roy as a toddler. 

At around lunchtime Moss and Roy managed to escape the flat, leaving Joan frantically cleaning their kitchen (they’d told her she didn’t have to, but she wasn’t having any of it) and Michael enjoying their massive telly. The first place they went, of course, was a proper barber’s shop to sort Roy’s mop out. 

“I’m glad you didn’t have too much cut off,” Moss said as they walked out of the shop. He reached over and brushed a few stray hairs from his fiance’s neck. Roy shivered a little: his fiance’s hands were cold. “I like your curls.” 

“D’you think you’ll get your hair cut before the wedding?” Roy asked. Moss shrugged a little. As they passed a small bakery, he stopped to check his hair in the window. 

“I think it’s okay,” he said placidly. 

“I think so too, baby,” Roy replied. They smiled at each other, kissing quickly before carrying on their way. 

“Speaking of the wedding, isn’t a load of your family getting here tomorrow?” Moss said. Roy groaned a little.

“God, yeah,” he said. “You still alright with having them all round for drinks before we go to dinner tomorrow night?” 

Quite a lot of Roy’s family were arriving for the wedding. Off the top of his head, Moss could think of at least twenty. Having them in their flat wasn’t a problem, of course: their flat was massive. But Moss knew that Roy was asking for another reason. 

“Yes, I think so,” he replied. 

“Some of my cousins aren’t coming anymore, so there’s not thirty-two coming, it’s twenty-nine.” 

“That’s still a fair amount of people.” 

Roy nodded. 

“It’ll be fine,” he said. Moss wasn’t sure if he’d said this to reassure him or himself. “I’m just looking forward to finding out who the hell Richmond is bringing!” 

Moss nodded, laughing in agreement. 

***

The next day was very, very busy, and by the time five o’clock came Moss felt like his brain was being squeezed out of his head through his ears. 

They had spent the whole morning calling almost their entire guest list to ensure that they were still coming to the wedding. Moss had wanted to email them, but Roy had pointed out that people may not see that and this was kind of important. Grumbling a little, Moss had agreed and they had divided the guest list between them. Then they had had to go and pick up some of Roy’s family from the airport. They ended up with Roy’s grandma and two of his aunts in the back of the car. The first thing Roy’s grandma had said when she’d seen Moss was,

“Ooo, you never said he was a coloured lad!” 

“Grandma!” Roy had hissed, cheeks flushing a deep red. 

“Oh, it’s not a bad thing, dear!” she replied. “I think it’s lovely!” 

Moss hadn’t known whether to be flattered or offended. 

Now, though, he was standing in his own kitchen, a cabinet handle pressing uncomfortably into his back as he clutched a drink and tried to concentrate on what the person in front of him was saying. He didn’t even know who she was-- one of Roy’s aunts, maybe?-- and she was talking at such a speed that he could hardly pick up on what she was saying. Roy was on the other side of the living room chatting to one of his sisters. Given the cool, balmy night there was some overspill onto the balcony, where Roy’s other three aunts, three uncles and father were smoking, chatting amongst themselves. There were small children running around, someone had put the telly on… 

It was a lot, a lot more than Moss had been expecting. Slowly, he could feel that familiar sense of panic building up his chest. Putting his drink down, he cleared his throat and continued to nod along with whatever the woman in front of him was saying. To be honest, he’d been sort of filtering it out for the past five minutes now. He scanned the living room. He could still see Roy, good. His fiance was leaning against the corner of the wall, looking casual and suave as he chatted away to his sister. 

“I said, can you believe she did that!?” 

That pulled his attention back. Looking quickly down at the woman, he shook his head. 

“No, no I can’t believe it,” he mumbled. He took a deep breath, starting to feel his heart pound in his ears. Remember, if you start getting stressed allow yourself a time out, his therapist’s voice said in his head. “I’m sorry, I-I have to go for a moment.” 

Before the woman could say anything, he slipped away and stealthily made his way out of the kitchen. There were even people in the corridor , and of course the main bathroom ended up being occupied. This is when Moss thanked his lucky stars that he and Roy were lazy buggers who had sprung for an ensuite, and he quietly went into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

Once he was there, alone, he instantly began to feel a little calmer. He could still hear the noise outside, but it was muffled and so it wasn’t quite so overwhelming. He sat down on the edge of the bed, back to the door, and facing out of the window, took a few slow and steady breaths as he stared out over London. Even though he had grown up here, he still couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful the city was. He felt incredibly privileged to live here, with this sort of a view. 

In fact, he felt incredibly privileged about everything. He had a good job, a good house, a good family. He had the best fiance (soon husband!) he could have possibly ever hoped for, too. He smiled to himself as he got up and stood by the window, leaning against the windowsill. 

“Moss? You okay?” 

It was Roy, of course. Moss turned to look at him, the smile still on his face. Roy closed the bedroom door before coming forward and kissing him softly. “I saw you leave, just wanted to make sure it wasn’t all getting too much for you.” 

“It was,” Moss replied. He smiled. “But it’s okay now.”

“Are you sure?” Roy asked. 

“Yeah, of course.”

They kissed quickly again.

“We should probably get goin’ if we want to make our reservation,” Roy said once they had broken apart, glancing down at his watch. 

“But we’re walking?” Moss replied, a little nonplussed. Roy laughed.

 “You’ve never tried walking anywhere with my family before,” he said. “Let’s just say if we leave now, we might not be late.”

Moss shook his head a little. 

“Punctuality, dear,” he said with a small tut before leaning forward, kissing Roy on the cheek and leaving the bedroom. 

Roy was left standing there, and couldn’t help but chuckle as he put his hands in his pockets and followed his fiance out of the room. 

***

It was now Friday: four days before their wedding. 

Because they weren’t total workshy bastards, they were spending the day at the office. Of course they were not actually doing any work. Moss was playing games on his computer whilst Roy read comments on random YouTube videos and lounged around not doing very much. When lunch rolled around, Moss announced that he was going to the chip shop. Roy had offered to go with him but Moss simply smiled, reminding him that he’d told him last night that he was going to practice his vows before kissing him and leaving the basement. 

As soon as he was gone, Roy rushed into Jen’s office. 

“I haven’t written my vows!” he blurted before Jen could say anything. 

“Roy, you shit,” Jen said. She accompanied this with a half-hearted glare. “Come on, sit down.” Roy did so. “When were you supposed to have finished them by?”

There was a pause. 

“I told Moss I finished them a month ago,” he said quietly. 

“You shit!” 

“I know, I know!” 

“You’ve had a month !” 

“Have you ever tried writin’ vows?” Roy asked heatedly. Jen shook her head. He made a frustrated noise, leaning back in the chair. “It’s difficult! I know exactly what I wanna say, but whenever I try to get the words down on paper I just can’t.” 

“Has Moss written his yet?” Jen asked. Roy gave her a look.

“What do you think?” he said. She made a face, nodding. “Look, he’s gonna be back in like thirty minutes, an hour tops if he gets caught up in something. Will you help me?” 

“Alright,” Jen said with a sigh after a moment. Roy clasped his hands together, looking up at the sky.

“Thank you, Jen, thank you!” he cried. She was half-surprised he didn’t come over and fling his arms around her. “Seriously, I owe you one.” 

“You owe me a lot of things,” she said under her breath before clearing her throat and reaching for a pad of paper and a felt-tip pen. “Okay, so vows.” 

“Vows,” Roy repeated. They both sat in silence for a good five minutes after this. Occasionally one of them would move as if to say something, but then they would shake their head and sit back in their seats. Eventually Jen let out a long huff, throwing the pen down. 

“Bloody hell this is hard,” she said. 

“See what I mean!?” Roy replied with a self-righteous grin. She nodded, letting out a long slow breath through her nose. They were silent for a few moments longer. 

“No, we can do this,” Jen said. She sounded very self-assured. Roy gave her a skeptical look. “If we can save this place after Douglas basically ran it into the ground, we can write some wedding vows!” 

“Yeah!” Roy replied. He sounded rather enthusiastic all of a sudden, but really he was just trying to match Jen’s tone as so not to appear grouchy and annoyed. “Yeah, we can do this.” 

Jen grinned at him, and then grabbed her pen once more. 

***

By the time Moss got back, Jen and Roy had managed to make some decent progress on the issue of the vows. They finished the job off over email once the three of them had eaten their chips and Moss had stretched out on the sofa in order to play Minecraft. By four, the vows were written, and Roy turned his computer off with a happy sigh. 

“C’mon, Moss, we gotta get going,” he said as he started to gather his things. Moss made a small noise, looking up from the TV screen. He looked confused. “We’re taking your mum and your aunt to dinner tonight, remember? My parents are coming too.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Moss said. He clicked around a little on the game and then got up off the sofa, going over and clicking the telly off. Then he groaned. 

“What?” Roy asked as he shrugged his coat on. 

“My mum will bring Aunt Barbra with her tonight,” Moss explained. He came forward, taking his coat off the hook. 

“Do you not like your Aunt Barbra?” 

Moss turned to his fiance with an are you stupid look. Roy held his hands up, taking a step back. Moss smiled a little. 

“I mean, she’s okay,” he said. “She just talks. A lot.” 

“Ah,” Roy said. “Real chatter?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” 

“She’s your mum’s younger sister, right?” Roy said. Given they were about ready to leave, he came forward and rapped gently on Jen’s office door, raising his hand to her as a goodbye. She did the same. Moss nodded as they walked out. “Should be interesting,” Roy murmured to himself with a smile. 

***

Moss wasn’t wrong about the chattiness, Roy thought as he nodded for the seventeenth time along with what Barbra was saying. 

Moss was talking to his mum, whilst Roy’s parents were talking amongst themselves. Given it was the first time Roy had ever met Barbra, she seemed very keen to size him up and make sure he was suitable for her nephew. Apparently that meant talking at him (for ten minutes straight now!) until he either cracked and interrupted or died: whichever came first. 

When his phone rang, it came as a relief. 

“Excuse me, Barbra, but I’ve gotta take this,” he said. Finally falling silent, she nodded. Roy stood up, walking away from the table and down into the corridor near the toilets. Without looking at the number, he took the call. “Hello?” 

“Roy?” the voice said. The minute he heard it he recognised it, and he felt his heart seize. “Roy Trenneman? You remember me, don’t you?”

Roy had never hung up so fast in his life. 

When he got back to the table he was trembling a little. That voice… it must have been fifteen years now since he’d heard that voice, but he still remembered it. As he sat back down, he noticed his mother fix him with her razor-sharp gaze. 

“Who was that?” she asked, a little accusingly in Roy’s mind. Everyone else at the table looked over at him. 

“Oh, erm, nothing,” he said. He forced a smile, although it was rather unconvincing. “Just press. You know I hate them.” 

At this Moss nodded, and went back to looking through the menu and chatting to his mother. Roy’s mother, however, did not seem so convinced, narrowing her eyes at him. 

Luckily for Roy, she chose not to press it further. 

***

As Saturday morning dawned and the sun began to rise over London, Roy found himself struck by how close the wedding really was. 

He’d always been a nervous sleeper, and now the wedding was drawing closer and closer this was especially true. Right now it was just after 5 a.m. Since it wasn’t too cold, he was sat out of the balcony with a cup of coffee, watching over the city. Moss, of course, was still asleep. Today was going to be the first day they were to go and start setting up the venue. Well, Roy was going to anyway. Moss’ mum had insisted that she get to spend some time with her son, and Moss was hardly adverse to the idea given that he had not spent the most time with her in recent months. 

However, one thing Moss was adverse to was Roy setting up the venue alone. He claimed that it was because it was a lot of work and it would be unfair for Roy to do all that alone, but Roy knew (because he’d overheard Moss telling Jen at work) that his fiance thought him to be “a disaster human who will break either the venue or himself”. To be fair he really couldn’t argue with that description, Roy thought to himself with a chuckle. So it was agreed upon that Jen and Peter (and baby Reggie of course) would come along to help. 

There were rather a lot of decorations to put up. There was the main wedding area, the gazebo, the food tables… The inside of the gazebo (the back of the seats in there particularly) were to be decorated with the colours of their pride flags. Originally it was just going to be rainbow as Roy didn’t want to make too much of a fuss when they were trying to find the right (preferably pre-made) ribbons online, but then Moss insisted, saying that it was only right. Eventually a small seller on Etsy provided them with the ribbons, and now all that was needed was to stick them to the back of the chairs. Roy was fairly sure he could have managed this by himself, but it would be nice to have the company at least. A day all by himself would have been very different to what he had gotten used to in the past week. 

In fact, this was probably going to be the first time in a while that he and Moss were going to be apart for any extended period of time. Roy wasn’t sure if he was scared or excited by this. It was a strange one, that was for sure. Roy sighed to himself as he took another sip of coffee and reminded himself not to think too much about it. 

***

Eventually it began to get chilly and Roy scuttled back inside to join his fiance in bed. His feet must have been cold because the minute his feet accidentally brushed against his fiance’s skin, Moss shivered and kicked him away. Roy couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that. 

He didn’t go back to sleep after this, the caffeine coursing through his veins from the three cups of coffee he’d drank whilst outside definitely preventing that. The cuddle time with his fiance, time he felt like he didn’t get often enough, was definitely relished though. They didn’t spend enough time just like this anymore. 

Moss woke up at his normal time to Roy’s face gently nestled in the crook of his shoulder. He chuckled a little, shifting to look at his fiance. 

“Good morning,” he murmured. Roy, whose eyes had been closed for no apparent reason other than pure aesthetic, opened his eyes, smiling as soon as he saw his fiance. He leaned forward, kissing him gently. 

“Mornin’,” he said. Moss smiled softly at him. “You ready to spend the day with your mother?” 

Moss groaned a little, leaning forward. 

“Am I ever?” he said. Roy chuckled at him. He reached up and ran his hands through his fiance’s hair. 

“You’ll be okay,” he said to him. Moss nodded before yawning and sitting up, rubbing his eyes and putting his glasses on. 

“What about you?” Moss asked. “Are you still okay to go and set up the venue?”

“Yeah, of course,” Roy replied as he too forced himself to get up. He noticed his fiance biting his lip and looking away, and couldn’t help but smile then. He went over, resting both his hands on Moss’ cheeks and kissing his forehead. “It’ll be fine !” 

“I don’t need you injuring yourself 4 days before our wedding,” Moss grumbled. Roy chuckled. 

“Fine, if I injure myself I’ll only do it minorly.” 

Moss looked up at him, looking shocked, angry and concerned all at once. That only made the Irishman laugh even more. 

“Roy…” he said warningly. 

“I’m jokin’, love,” Roy said with a smile. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling his fiance into a kiss. “Now come on, let’s get this day over with and then we can have games night tonight.” 

The smile on Moss’ face was something Roy definitely didn’t want to forget. 

***

It was still cold when Roy met Jen, Peter and their son at the venue. When Reggie saw Roy, his face split into a smile and he reached out to him from his father’s arms. 

“Unca, unca!” he cried. Whilst his talking was definitely advanced for his age, his pronunciation sometimes left much to be desired. Still, Roy found it was adorable. 

“Hello little man,” he said with a smile as he reached them, leaning over and giving his godson a quick kiss on the cheek. He flashed Jen and Peter a small smile before turning to Jen. “Did the ribbons get here okay?” 

“Yeah, they’re just inside,” Jen said. Reggie cooed a little, and she held her hand out to him, letting him grasp her hand in his chubby little fingers. 

“Good, good,” Roy said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as they began to walk towards the venue. Jen watched him carefully as they went past security in the venue (press had been trying to get in, so security was a necessity: Moss had stated with a smile that he felt like some sort of Hollywood celebrity with all this fuss). 

“Are you nervous?” she asked after a while, once they’d started unpacking the boxes of ribbons. Roy shrugged a little, not looking up at her. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he said. Immediately she could tell he was uncomfortable. 

“It’ll all be fine, sweetheart,” she said. He looked up at her, giving her a small smile. 

“Thank you,” he said. Over in the corner with his father, Reggie burst out laughing. The two of them grinned, turning to look at him for a moment before going back to their boxes. “He’s sweet, isn’t he?” Roy remarked. 

“He is,” Jen agreed. She couldn’t help but look fondly over at her little family. She leaned forward a little conspiratorially. “You know, before Reggie was born Peter and I were on the verge of splitting up again.” 

“Really?” Roy said, his voice hushed. He glanced over at Peter and then back at Jen again. Jen nodded. “Oh my God. You’d never tell now.” 

“Reggie saved our relationship,” she replied. They were both silent for a few moments, continuing to unpack the boxes between them. 

“D’you reckon our kids would be mates?” Roy eventually asked. 

At that Jen burst out laughing. It was such a… Roy thing to ask. 

“Yeah, I reckon they’d be friends,” she said after she’d stopped laughing her head off. “Maybe not at first …” Roy chuckled at that. “Lord knows I didn’t warm to you and Moss straight away.” 

“Hey, we didn’t exactly like you at first either,” Roy remarked. He took one of the empty boxes in both hands and flattened it, chucking it to the side. Jen rolled her eyes. 

“Please, the two of you were all over me when you first saw me,” she said. 

“We were not!” Roy exclaimed. He stopped what he was doing, turning to give her an enraged look. His furiously blushing cheeks, however, were giving him away. Jen giggled, looking down at the floor. Roy slumped. “Well, Moss wasn’t, at least,” he grumbled as he grabbed the next box. 

***

By that afternoon, all of the ribbons were attached to the correct places outside. Peter and Reggie had gone home at around lunchtime, as the little boy had started to get a little grouchy. As Roy stood at the start of the aisle and admired his (and admittedly mostly Jen’s) handiwork. It did look beautiful, and Roy couldn’t quite believe that in just four days he would be getting married here. 

“Jen, it feels like something’s missin’,” he called. After a moment, Jen appeared from behind the marquee. 

“Well we emptied the boxes for out here,” she said. “I don’t think there’s anything more to put out.” 

“Must just be nerves,” he said to himself, shrugging.

“How’s Moss doing?” Jen asked after a moment of them both standing there. “Is the stress getting to him yet?” 

“Not really,” Roy said. He put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the sturdy arch that stood at the start of the aisle. “Which was surprising, to be honest. I was nervous with the date and everything, what with what happened and everything.” 

“What actually happened?” Jen asked. Roy pushed himself up from the arch, giving her a look. 

“You don’t know?” he said. Jen shook her head. “Didn’t you read the article?” She shook her head again. Roy bit his lip, making a small noise. “I really don’t know if it’s my place to tell you, Jen, I’m sorry.” 

“Is it really that bad?” she said, sounding anxious. Roy made another noise, tilting his head from side to side. 

“Kind of?” he replied. He sighed. “You might as well know. Basically, the seventeenth is the day his dad died.” 

“Oh God, that’s awful,” Jen said. Roy nodded. 

“Yeah, he was only six. He was standing outside the room when they called the code.”

“Really?” Jen said, her voice hushed. Roy nodded again. “God, that’s… wow.”

“I know,” he replied. After a moment he shrugged, nudging a ribbon slightly before coming down the aisle and turning to look at the chairs. Slowly his eyes drifted down to the front row. 

Then he gasped. 

“I know what’s missing!” he cried. 

“What?” Jen called, but Roy was already gone, sprinting off towards the car. 

***

It wasn’t until later that evening when Jen was already at home that she realised that Roy had left his charger in her car. 

It was already nine at night, Reggie was fast asleep and she didn’t really want to go out again, but she knew that this was Roy’s best charger. He’d spent nearly an hour going on about it in the office the other week. It wasn’t exactly the worst drive either… So she’d kissed Peter on the cheek and told him she’d be back in an hour. 

When they’d moved into their new flat, the boys had given her a key and told her that if she ever needed them, to just text them to let them know she was coming and then let herself in. Whilst stuck at some traffic lights, she’d sent Moss a quick text letting him know she was on her way. After this she did throw her phone in her bag and put it on silent. 

It was quiet when she got to their flat. She had expected it to be busier, considering it wasn’t too late, but everyone seemed to be happily tucked away in their homes watching telly or scrolling through their phones. Moss and Roy’s flat, too, was quiet. Smiling to herself, she rummaged through her bag to grab her keys. She let herself in, closing the door behind her. 

The boys were nowhere to be seen in the living room. Strange, Jen thought, but she shrugged and moved along. However, as she got further and further down the corridor (and closer to their bedroom), it wasn’t quite so quiet any more. 

“Don’t go in like that!” 

That was Moss’ voice. Jen made a face, inching forward a little. 

“Okay, okay, sorry.”

“Yeah, like that.”

“That good?”

There was quite for a moment, and then they both began to yell at the top of their lungs. What have I walked into, Jen thought. Then it seemed to click in her head. 

“Keep going, keep going!”

Nope, she was out of here! She stumbled backwards, but in her haste to get out of the house before they realised she was here, her elbow caught a vase and it fell onto the linoleum with an almighty crash and shattered into a million little pieces. 

Instantly the shouting and the creaking of the bed stopped. There was a moment, and Jen felt too frozen to do anything, and then Roy’s head poked out from the bedroom.

“Jen?” he said. His cheeks were flushed. “What’re you doin’ here?” 

“Your-your charger…” she stammered. She stumbled back a little, shaking her head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll… I’ll go.”

For a moment, Roy looked confused. Then it seemed to click with him. 

“Oh my God, you think we—“ he said, but he cut himself off before he could finish the sentence. Making a face, Jen nodded. Roy put his hand over his mouth, shaking his head. He opened the door to the bedroom. 

The room was a tip. There were wrappers and bottles and bits of junk food everywhere. Moss was sat on the end of the bed ensconced in what appeared to be a Star Wars Chewbacca dressing gown, staring determinedly at the TV as he played whatever game they were playing. He was surrounded by empty Smarties tubes. “No, we’re just playing games,” Roy said with a laugh. Jen let out a sigh of relief. 

“Thank God!” she said, laughing a little nervously. Roy nodded. Jen threw the charger at him, which he somehow managed to catch. 

“Well thanks for dropping this off, anyway,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled. 

As she staggered out to her car, she reminded herself to write this story down the second she got home. 

***

The sun rose early again the next morning, and for once Moss rose with it. 

Roy was still fast asleep, but for once Moss found himself unable to sleep until his normal time. Call him a worrywarts, but he couldn’t help but panic that the venue wasn’t set up quite… right . Normally he would have just gone to Roy and asked him directly, but his fiancé was asleep and he didn’t want to wake him up. He looked so sweet there… no, he couldn’t wake him up, not for something as stupid as this. But he needed to know, and he needed to know now . 

He was starting to panic, he could feel it. He clasped his hands into fists in an attempt to ground himself, but that only worked for about a minute or so. No, he needed to know. As quietly as he could, he snuck out of bed and out of the bedroom, slipping the door silently closed behind him. There was no need for him to get dressed. He’d be back within the hour, Roy would never need to know. Of course he took his wallet and phone, just in case, and grabbed his coat in case it got cold.

Getting to the venue wasn’t exactly difficult. It was a quick cab ride, during which the driver didn’t even seem phased by the fact that he was in his pyjamas. Moss reasoned to himself that the driver had probably seen much stranger in his time. Even so, he made sure to tip him twenty quid to show him how apologetic he felt about the whole affair. 

Now, at first he was just planning on going through security, but then he remembered that they’d set up a text alert system that sent a message to both of them whenever anyone came in and his fiance was a particularly light sleeper. Yes, maybe that wouldn’t be the best option. Well, he thought to himself with a shrug, what better time to test the security? 

Once again, the secluded woodland surrounding the alcove in which their wedding would be held was doing wonders with him. After about ten minutes of him standing at a distance and scratching his head about how he was going to this, he decided that the best course of action would be to loop widely round, sneak through the back of the woodland and hop over the low-lying hedge hidden behind the marquee. Yes, that would work. 

Getting to the hedge wasn’t the problem. That was actually very easy. It was around half past 5 now, and some early-morning dog walkers and runners were starting to appear. Moss avoided them all, though, darting straight into the woods before anyone could see him. 

It was when he approached the hedge that the problems began to emerge. 

The last he remembered, the hedge barely came up above his waist. Right now, though, he was staring at the top portion of said hedge, trying to work out how the flip he was supposed to get over this. How had it grown this much!? God, he wasn’t made for this. Sighing heavily, he braced himself, thrust his hand forward into the hedge, grabbed what he hoped with the main branch inside it and began to pull himself up. 

By some small miracle he managed to get himself onto the top of the hedge. Once again, however, this was where problems presented themselves. Whilst he may have been somewhat on top of the hedge, he was rather rapidly sinking into it, and he had no actual plan of how to get down to the ground. He was starting to regret his decision now. 

“Buck up,” he whispered to himself. Trying to ignore the pungent smell of the bush and the way the horrible little needles were poking themselves into his skin, he valiantly attempted to edge forward a little. This right here is when disaster struck. By shifting, he lost his footing on the bush and without anything to anchor himself to the bush, he tumbled feet-first out of it. 

He landed awkwardly, pretty much entirely face-first, into the stony dirt patch behind the marquee with quite a spectacular crash. Groaning, he stayed in a heap for a moment before forcing himself to sit up properly a little. There was now dirt on his face, and sticking out of his hair was a comical array of twigs and leaves, but he was here! Feeling rather satisfied with himself, he scrambled to his feet and headed round the back of the marquee to the main outdoor area. 

It looked, in a word, stunning. Exactly like he’d seen in his head. The ribbons entwined around the arch at the start of the aisle, the bows on the back of the chairs, just… all of it. He put his hand over his mouth, taking a moment to revel in it. It was beautiful. It was perfectly how they’d wanted. Maybe he hadn’t given Roy enough credit, because this looked incredible. 

He’d actually been about to turn and leave (telling security about the little blind spot at the back on his way out) when he spotted something sitting on the front row. He stopped, turning back. No, he hadn’t imagined it, there was something there. A box, perhaps? Maybe Jen and Roy had left something out by accident? Shrugging a little, he walked around the side of the chairs (he wanted to save the aisle walk for Tuesday, thank you very much) and to the front of the seating to have a look at that front row. 

What he saw made him stop dead. 

He stared, stared, kept staring. For rather a while, maybe even five minutes or so, he did not move at all. Eventually, slowly, he put one shaking hand over his mouth. He stumbled backwards. Unable to stop himself, as soon as he reached the small wooden summerhouse structure, he sank down onto the steps. 

Closing his eyes, he couldn’t help but let everything out.

**

When Roy woke up and Moss wasn’t by his side, it was fair to say that he panicked a bit. 

He didn’t quite notice at first, being half-asleep and assuming that it was after half past seven. When he woke up properly and rolled over, looking at the clock, he realised that it was half five, Moss wasn’t here and that must have meant that something was wrong. 

He sat straight up in bed, looking wildly around. Exactly what that was supposed to have achieved he wasn’t sure, but all it did was make him more anxious. The room was, apart from himself, empty. Maybe it was because he was half-asleep, maybe it was because he was starting to feel the stress of the wedding, or maybe it was because he was so familiar with his fiance’s routines, but he didn’t even consider the more “normal” options, like maybe if Moss was in the bathroom or the kitchen or something. No, his mind jumped straight to the worst scenario. 

He hopped quickly out of bed, barely stopping to grab his dressing gown before flying out of the room. It didn’t take him long to look through the whole flat. All the doors were open, and Moss was in none of the rooms. Now Roy was really starting to panic. He ran a hand through his hair, reminding himself to control his breathing a bit. Shit. Moss was gone, or at the very least wasn’t anywhere in the flat. This was… bad. Well it certainly wasn’t good! 

He had to call someone. Definitely. This wasn’t something he could sort out by himself. Jen, that was probably his best bet. Yes, she would be up. Probably. Maybe. Whatever, at this point he was too panicked to actually think about this fully. 

“Morning Roy,” Jen said when she picked up. She sounded tired, but vaguely awake. “You okay?” 

“Moss is gone!” he exclaimed. 

“Hang on, what?” she replied. Roy nodded (although obviously she couldn’t see him), running a trembling hand through his hair.

“I just woke up and he’s not here,” he said. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’ve checked everywhere. There’s no note, no texts, nothing. I don’t know where he is.” 

“Do you think he’s… you know… done a runner?” 

“No,” Roy said quickly. “No, I don’t think so. He wouldn’t. Right?” 

“No,” Jen replied. “Sorry, that was an awful thing to suggest. He won’t have done it.” 

“God, we’ve gotta find him,” he said. “I know it’s early but can we go have a look for him?” 

“Yes, yes, okay,” she said. “Peter’s here so he can sort Reggie out.” 

“Ah, thank you!” 

“Any idea where he might have gone?” 

“There’s a few places. The office, Namco, his mum’s house?”

“Okay, well I’ll check the office,” Jen said assertively. Roy nodded as he took a deep breath. “You go down to Namco and we’ll reconvene after that?” 

“Yeah, alright,” he replied. 

“And Roy?”

“Yeah?” 

“It’s going to be fine.” 

***

Jen had almost reached the office when she had a sudden thought: what if he went to the venue?

It seemed realistic to her as she sat in the car blasting the heating in an attempt to warm herself up a little whilst stuck in traffic. He had been nervous enough about not being there whilst they were setting up when he’d talked to her about it. Maybe he’d gone there to check something? Yes, that seemed like Moss. She could check there. It wouldn’t kill to check, anyway. If he wasn’t there, then no harm done and she could go straight back to the office. 

The traffic was starting to build up a little more now, and it was only just after quarter to 6 in the morning. Jen dreaded to think what it was going to be like later on. She and Peter had dinner with Peter’s parents planned, and Reggie could be an absolute nightmare in the car sometimes. 

It didn’t take too long, in the end, to get to the venue. She parked quickly and carelessly (well, it wasn’t like there was anyone else in the car park) before speed walking over to the security building. 

“Mornin’,” the man, Matty, on security grunted as he flicked the next page of his magazine over. He had his boots up on the side and was smoking a fag of which the ash was steadily getting longer and longer. “Early today.” 

“Matty, has Moss been by this morning?” Jen asked, leaning against the side. Matty looked up from his magazine, taking his feet down. 

“Don’t think so,” he said. Leaning forward, he clicked around on his computer for a minute before looking back and shaking his head. He took his cigarette out of his mouth, stubbing it out on the desktop. “There was a bit of a crash and bang earlier on, but I assumed it was just foxes. Normally is.”

“Can I go back and have a look?” she asked. Matty shrugged. 

“Be my guest.”

She smiled, thanking him as he buzzed her into the venue. She rushed in as fast as she could without seeming rude, running down the lane and towards the main venue. 

As soon as she got into the alcove she spotted Moss. 

He was sitting on the stairs of the summerhouse, bent almost in half by the looks of it. She couldn’t see his face. 

“Moss?” she called as she made her way down the aisle. He didn’t look up. Walking a little faster, she reached him quickly and then stopped, suddenly unsure of what to do. After a moment of thinking, she settled on sitting down next to him and gently resting her hand on his shoulder. “Moss?” she repeated quietly. 

After this he looked up. He was crying, and clearly had been for a while. His cheeks were stained with tear tracks, and he looked rather anxious and upset. “What is it?” she whispered. 

Moss sniffed and opened his mouth to talk. It stayed open for a moment, but nothing came out and eventually he shut it again. He shook his head, lowering it again. “Is it the wedding? Is it too stressful?”

“No,” Moss mumbled. He shook his head, looking up again. He brushed his hand over his face, trying to get rid of some of the tears from his cheeks. He raised a shaking hand, pointing towards the front row of the seating. Jen followed his direction.

You see, it wasn’t a box on the front row. It was, actually, a picture. It was a picture Roy had procured from Moss’ mum’s back room, one that she still had from years ago. It had been a little dusty, but between Gillian, Roy and Jen they had managed to sort it out and make it look good. 

It was a picture of Moss’ father. 

When Roy had come back from running off the previous day (he had actually only gone to grab a phone charger) he had explained to Jen that he and Moss had agreed to have the wedding on that date in order to feel like, for Moss, that his father was there. Roy knew that Moss’ mum had a picture of him somewhere, and maybe they could put it there, make it more real? 

“Oh, Roy thought you’d like that,” Jen murmured quietly, smiling a little to herself. 

That set Moss off again. He bent his head again, letting out a sob. Jen opened her mouth in shock a little, reaching forward and trying to think of how the hell to comfort him. “Oh, erm… do you want me to call Roy?” 

Moss just about managed to nod. Jen nodded quickly, grabbing her phone from her bag. She stepped away for a minute, dialling Roy’s number. 

“Any luck?” Roy said the second he picked up. 

“I’ve found him,” Jen said. She turned away a little more, pressing her phone closer to her ear. 

“Was he at the office?” 

“No, the venue. He’s in absolute bits.”

“I’m on my way,” Roy replied shortly. Before Jen could say anything else, he hung up. She shrugged a little, pocketing her phone and moving back over to sit next to Moss. “He’s coming here,” she whispered to him. He barely moved, if at all, in response to this. 

They sat there for nearly ten minutes, Jen vaguely panicking and Moss appearing to have a complete mental breakdown, before Roy arrived. Only a slight rustling of the ground signalled his arrival. Jen looked hastily up, moving away as fast as she could. Roy flashed her a small smile before going over to his fiance. 

“Hey, baby,” he whispered as quietly as he could as he lowered himself down to sit next to his fiance. Moss looked up at him. Roy reached over, wiping away some of the fresher tears. “What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know,” Moss said. His voice was quiet and hoarse from crying. 

“Is it the picture?” Moss nodded, sniffing and looking down. “It’s okay, we can take it down if you don’t like it.” 

“I love it!” Moss exclaimed all of a sudden. Both Roy and Jen stopped at that. They glanced over at each other before Roy looked back at his fiance, giving him a confused look. “It’s beautiful and lovely and-and-and…” 

He trailed off. Roy opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to think of what to say. 

Just as he was about to reply, a loud sound rang through the venue. 

Moss’ reaction was instantaneous. He clamped his hands over his ears, making the smallest whimpering sound. Roy and Jen looked over to where the sound had come from. It was the stage at the end of the venue. Standing on it was a man, who looked rather lonely up there on his own, clutching a master control board. 

“Sound test, sorry!” he shouted down to them when he saw the two of them staring at him, equally furious looks on their faces. Roy rolled his eyes, making a frustrated noise before looking back to his fiance. 

“Nothing is getting done today,” he said, his voice very quiet. Jen nodded. “We’re gonna head home. Reconvene tomorrow?” 

Jen nodded. They smiled at each other and, with that, parted ways. 

***

By the time the next morning rolled around, Moss was feeling much better. A day spent lying in bed with his fiance gently stroking his hair had helped immensely, and now he was raring to go and set up the venue. In fact, he was more ready than Roy was. 

“Come o-o-o-o-on, we need to go!” he said in his fiance’s ear. He was virtually hanging off of Roy’s shoulders, his arms wrapped around them as he rested his head against the top of the chair. 

“Sweetie, we’ve got tons of time,” Roy answered. 

“And we’ve got tons to do!” Moss exclaimed. Roy chuckled, shaking his head. 

“It’ll be fine,” he said. 

Eventually Moss’ nagging became too much and Roy relented, finishing his breakfast and dressing quickly. He may have had to run halfway back up the stairs to get his wallet, but other than that the rest of the journey to the venue went very smoothly. 

Considering it was their wedding the next day, the boys were both surprisingly calm. When Jen met them at the venue, she had expected at least one of them to be having what her father used to call a “moment”. No, when they got there they were both smiling, carrying two boxes of decorations apiece. Roy had one earphone in-- as he had explained to Jen at length the other week, he found that listening to music helped him stay on task. 

As they went past, security informed them that the press had been sniffing around in the wee hours, and so to keep a keen ear out. They all confirmed that they would, except for Roy who had been distracted by the combination of music in one ear and something half-open in the top box he was carrying. They went on into the venue, set their boxes down, poured themselves a well-earned coffee (or hot chocolate for Moss) and set about to work. 

There was rather a lot to sort out in this room. Tablecloths, table numbers, seat decorations, fairy lights, paper chains, disco lights, cake stands… the list went on and on and on. Naturally Jen took charge, much to the boys’ relief, and delegated out the tasks accordingly. She was on tables, Roy was to put up the fairy lights and Moss, with his wonderfully chaotic energy, had been somewhat relegated to paper chains and tissue paper pompoms. 

At some point, she wasn’t exactly sure when, Jen had looked away from her tablecloth task and had almost immediately become fascinated with watching Moss try to put this paper pompom together. There were clear instructions on the back, and in her head she could envision how it would be put together. Moss had his earphones in, the music up so loud that she could actually slightly hear it halfway across the room, and was staring at this tissue paper with such intensity that it was almost as scary as it was hilarious. His tongue was poking out of his mouth slightly, his eyebrows crinkled as he tried to follow the folds he was supposed to be making. This continued for nearly twenty minutes, during which time Roy began to watch too, sitting on his little stepladder to the side. Sometimes he would let out a noise of surprise, or maybe frustration, and at one point he threw it down completely, muttering something to himself. Finally, a whole forty-five minutes after he had actually started it, Moss got it all on the string (folded up, of course) tied it up and let it go to…

A flat disaster. 

Jen and Roy burst out laughing. They couldn’t help it. The combination of confusion and devastation on Moss’ face, coupled with the shambles of a pompom now sitting on his lap was too much for them to handle. At this, Moss seemed to notice that something was up and took one earphone out. When he heard them laughing he looked over to them, a betrayed look on his face. This only made them laugh harder. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Roy managed to wheeze out. He shook his head, putting his head in his hands as he got all of his giggles out. He looked back up after a minute or so. “Maybe me or Jen should do the pompoms?” 

Moss nodded gratefully. He grabbed the bag of paper chain pieces and his stapler, pushing the pompom bits towards the other two. 

Once again, it was mostly quiet for a little while. Sometimes either Moss or Roy would forget that other people were there and would sing along to their music for a little while, but other than that the marquee was quiet. 

At least, it was until Roy fell off the stepladder with an almighty wallop. 

Moss and Jen turned just in time to see Roy land on his arse on the floor. Jen’s first instinct was to press her hand over her mouth and giggle, whereas Moss’ was to jump up and run over to see if his fiance was okay. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Roy muttered whilst Moss fussed over him as he stood back up. He went to go back up the stepladder, but Moss caught his arm before he could. “Hey, what’re you doing?”

“You are not breaking yourself the day before our wedding,” Moss said firmly. He forced Roy over to a rolling chair that was sitting on the dance floor for reasons none of them had quite figured out yet, making him sit in it. Roy made to leave, but Moss sat himself down on his fiance’s lap. “Jen! Fetch the duct tape!” 

Jen, who was now having far too much fun, obediently scampered off towards the box where the duct tape was. Roy glared at his fiance. Moss smiled at him smugly. 

“This is ridiculous,” Roy growled. Moss smirked at him, leaning forward so that their faces were almost touching. 

“I am not wheeling you back up the aisle tomorrow,” he said, his voice low. Roy tried to muster up another glare, but it didn’t really work. 

“Let me up.” 

“Never.” 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

“And you’re not?” 

Well, Roy couldn’t argue with that. He hooked his arm around his fiance’s waist, pulling him a little closer. Moss smiled at him, leaning down to kiss him. 

“Alright, you two, keep it in your pants,” Jen announced as she came back in. Roy rolled his eyes, and Moss made a slight face, shifting a little to look at Jen. He went to get up, but Roy shook his head and kept him close. Moss rolled his eyes, reaching for the rolls of tape. Jen handed them to him. He grabbed the edge, pulling it out and wrapping it around Roy’s waist, effectively strapping him into the chair. When he was done, he reached down and ripped the edge off with his teeth. Roy would never admit it, but it was a tiny bit sexy.

Moss spent the next five minutes steadily taping Roy to the chair. He left his legs free, so he could move himself around by scooting the chair along the floor, but his arms were firmly clamped to the arms of the chair, and there was tape all around his torso. Moss was still sitting on his fiance’s lap, applying the last layer of tape whilst Jen watched gleefully onwards, when someone behind them cleared their throat.

They all turned their heads to look at the person. It was the wedding planner from the venue, clutching a clipboard to her chest. Standing next to her was Morgan, who was trying to contain her laughter. 

“We, um… I didn’t want him to get hurt,” was all Moss had to offer. 

“Well, I have to say it’s not the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” the wedding planner said with a small shrug. She looked around the gazebo, smiling. “The decorating seems to be coming on well!” 

“Thanks,” Roy said a little awkwardly. He tried to shift in the chair, but only succeeded in sending himself and his fiance toppling to the floor. Moss stood up quickly, and Roy struggled on the floor for a minute or so before Moss realised that his fiance was still taped up and dove down to help him get up. They both jumped up quickly after this. 

“Do you have a minute to talk over some of the boring clerical stuff?” the planner asked. Roy nodded, giving his boyfriend a sly smile before stepping out of the marquee with the planner. 

“How are you feeling?” Morgan said with a cheeky grin, stepping forward towards him. Moss smiled at her.

“Excited,” he said. Turning around, he started to rummage through one of the boxes behind him. “I wasn’t expecting you here.” 

“I just wanted to check that you were still staying at mine tonight,” she replied. At this Moss stopped, standing stock-still whilst still half-bent over the box. After a moment, Roy appeared back in the marquee. 

“Hey,” he said before turning to Morgan. “Did you say that Moss is supposed to be stayin’ with you tonight?”

“He said he was,” Morgan replied, a little confused. The two of them stared at each other, and then turned slowly to look at Moss. Moss was standing upright again, looking more than a little guilty. “Moss?”

“Got something to tell me?” Roy prompted. “You said you were staying home.” 

“Um…” Moss mumbled. 

“Oh come on, you can’t spend the night before the wedding together!” Morgan said. 

“Why not?” Roy shot back. 

“It’s bad luck.” 

“It’s not bad luck.” 

The two gave each other half-hearted glares before looking to Moss, who was staring at his feet and looking rather uncomfortable. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t want to upset either of you.” 

“It’s okay,” Roy said with a small smile. “But it’s kinda important that you know where you’re staying tonight.”

Moss nodded. He looked up to Morgan, then to Roy, then back again. 

“Sorry, Morgan,” he said very quietly before pointing at Roy. “I’m going to stay at home.” 

“That’s okay,” Morgan replied. She reached into her bag, pulling out a couple of tupperwares. “I brought lunch!” 

The smiles she got in return were wider than any she’d ever seen before. 

***

It took them until well into the evening to finish setting everything. It didn’t help that every ten or so minutes Roy would get distracted, and any time Moss attempted any task more difficult than putting together paper chains or setting out tablecloths it would inevitably end up a disaster. Eventually, though, it all got finished, and as the three of them (Morgan had had to leave to pick Isabella up from school) stood at the door of the marquee looking at the fruits of their labour they couldn’t help but admit that it looked pretty damn good. 

“Have a good night,” Jen said to the boys, smiling at them. They grinned back at her. Roy had an arm around his fiance’s shoulders. “See you in the morning.” 

“Yeah, see you then,” Roy said with a warm smile. Jen returned this before grabbing her things and heading out of the venue. This left Moss and Roy alone for almost the first time that day. “I love you, you know?” Roy whispered. Moss nodded, nestling closer to his fiance. 

“I love you too.” 

“I can’t wait for tomorrow.” 

“Me neither, sweetheart. Me neither.” 

***

It was half past six the next morning when Moss found himself being dragged up and out of bed by a far too enthusiastic Morgan. 

“What?” he muttered as he suddenly found himself no longer in his comfy warm bed, but instead being pushed out into the corridor. 

“Come on, up and at ‘em,” Morgan said brusquely. 

“Let me go back to sleep.” 

“No time. We’ve got loads to do.” 

Now his glasses were being pushed into his hands. He did tend to fall asleep with them on, but he must have remembered to take them off last night, or at least Roy had taken them off for him. He groaned, accepting his fate and putting them on. 

“Don’t I need clothes?” he said groggily. 

“Roy made you a little bag up. Now come on!” 

He knew better than to argue at this point. He nodded as they came through into the kitchen, Morgan still grasping him by the arm. Roy was standing leaning against the kitchen countertop, an amused grin on his face. As they went past, Moss reached up and pressed a quick kiss to his soon-husband’s lips. They smiled at each other, then Morgan reached the front door and Moss was whisked away from the flat. 

“Typical,” Roy chuckled to himself, shaking his head and looking down into his coffee. The flat was empty now apart from himself. His family were all at their hotel, and his mother had said a few of them-- Roy knew that this meant at least ten-- would arrive at about nine-ish-- so seven o’clock on the dot. When it came to weddings, his family were surprisingly punctual. 

Right now, though, he was alone, and he wasn’t quite sure what to think about. The wedding, of course, sprung immediately to mind, but he had decided that he wasn’t going to accidentally end up overthinking it. No, this was going to be a good day. Of course it was! He was marrying the love of his life! How could it possibly go badly?” 

As his phone began to ring again, he thought that it was probably best not to start thinking down that road. 

***

When Moss got to Morgan’s, there was already an impressive amount of people there for this early (well, early to him ) on a Tuesday morning. His mother was one of these, a woman who, when she didn’t have work, he hadn’t seen out of bed before 9:30 a.m since 1995. 

“Mum?” he said a little bewilderedly when he noticed her. She smiled at him, waving at him before going back to (he guessed) gossiping with Leanne. Even Isabella was up, although she was seven so that did make some sort of sense, he supposed. 

“Do you want a coffee?” Morgan asked as they went through the dining room of her house, stepping over Isabella’s toys, to get to the living room. 

“You know I don’t like coffee.” 

“Oh go on, you’re shattered, and anyway we just got a fancy new machine that does iced coffee with flavourings and stuff,” she said. “Honestly, I can make you one with so much sugar in it you’ll barely be able to tell it’s coffee.” 

“Alright,” Moss relented. He was tired, after all. Morgan smiled at him, telling him to make himself comfortable before bustling back off to the kitchen. 

As Moss stood there, he realised that this was actually the first time he’d ever been to Morgan’s house. Which he found surprising, to be honest, considering how much they’d talked since getting back into contact with each other. It was a simple house, but it was… nice. Homely was the only word Moss could think of to describe it. No, he liked it. He put his hands in his pockets, yawning as he sat himself down on the sofa. God it was early. 

A moment later, Isabella came bounding into the room. She raised her hand to Moss before coming over and sitting down next to him. Not too close, Moss thought with a small smile. 

“You’re getting married today,” she said. It was more of a statement than a question, but Moss nodded anyhow. 

“I am,” he answered. 

“Mum and Mama are married too,” Isabella continued. She looked down at the sofa, and then up at Moss. “Do you have to get married?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Moss found himself saying. Inside, he was panicking a little, to be quite honest.

“Why not?” 

“Some people… just don’t want to.” Moss cut himself off, clearing his throat and sitting up a little straighter. “Where is your mother?” 

Isabella giggled a little, smiling at him. 

“Are you and Roy going to have a baby?” she asked. 

“Maybe,” Moss said with a smile. He relaxed a bit now, uncrossing his arms and putting his hands back in his pockets. “Probably.” 

“Mama said that two girls can’t have a baby together,” she replied. “And that two men can’t either. So sometimes they get someone else to help them, or they do a thing called ‘a-dop-shun’ .” She smiled proudly here. “That’s how her and Mum got me! What are you and Roy gonna do?” 

“We don’t know yet,” Moss said. This was possibly the strangest conversation he had ever had with a child (not that he had many conversations with children) and he wasn’t sure if Morgan and Leanne would be wanting him to have this conversation with their daughter, but here he was ploughing ahead anyhow. “I guess we’ll see closer to the time. We haven’t really talked too much about it yet.” 

“How are babies made?” 

Ah, now this was a question that Moss knew he had to steer clear of. 

“Ask your mum,” he said quickly. Isabella accepted this answer, shrugging a little before bouncing up and down and coming closer to him. 

“I like your hair!” she said. He smiled at her. 

“Thank you.” 

“How come you and your mum have different skin colours?” 

Wow, this child was inquisitive. Moss shifted his seat, taking a moment to consider how to answer this. 

“Because my dad was black,” he finally settled upon. 

“Where is your dad?” 

“He, um, he died.” He could feel himself getting a little choked up here, and had to stop to clear his throat. 

“I don’t have a dad either,” Isabella said. “But I have two great mums, so I guess it balances out!” 

“It does,” Moss replied. He was smiling again now. 

“I have a different skin colour to my mums too,” she said. Moss nodded. “They said that’s because I’m from somewhere called China.” 

Moss grinned at her, and had been about to reply when Morgan came back in. She was holding two classes of coffee concoction, both with copious amounts of whipped cream on the top of them. 

“Is she asking you a billion and one questions?” Morgan asked. Moss nodded. The woman rolled her eyes a little. “She’s in one of those at the moment.” 

“I’m gonna go ask Mama how babies are made!” Isabella announced. She gave Moss a quick hug before jumping up and rushing off towards the kitchen. Morgan chuckled, shaking her head and handing Moss his drink. He took it with a quiet “thank you”. 

“I love her, but Lord she can ask a lot of questions,” she said with a laugh. Moss nodded, chuckling. He sipped his drink. Morgan had been right. It just tasted of caramel and whipped cream. He grinned at her. Morgan smiled, sitting down on the opposite sofa. “So… how are you feeling?” 

“Strange,” Moss answered after a moment. He took another sip of his drink before putting it down on a coaster (he wasn’t a monster) on the coffee table. “On one hand, it’s still that… you know.” Morgan nodded. “But at the same time I’m more excited than ever before.” 

“It’s going to be great,” Morgan said. Moss smiled at her, nodding. They sat there in silence for a moment, just appreciating… well, everything. “Well, come on, we haven’t got all day!” 

Moss laughed, following her as she shot off into the dining room. 

***

The wedding was due to start at half past one. Because of this, Moss and Roy had decided to get to the venue for around eleven to sort out last minute things, then they would get changed there and Moss would take over greeting guests (he had volunteered for it: Roy had originally said he would do it but Moss made the point of that it would allow him to meet anyone he hadn’t met before) from twelve whilst Roy finished getting ready and checked things like vows books (their memories were both equally terrible and as important as this was it could not be trusted that at least one, if not both of them would forget their vows) and rings were all ready to go. It reduced the need for fancy cars to get them there, and ensured that neither of them were late. 

They may have been able to sway Morgan the night before, but today she was adamant that they were not to see each other until the actual ceremony. “Bad luck”, she claimed. Neither of them were particularly superstitious, and so whilst at the venue and not dressed they made it their mission to try and see each other. Unfortunately, they had forgotten one key factor. 

Both of them were terrible at sneaking around. 

They were loud and clumsy and just generally not built for trying to avoid detection. With both of them being pretty much the tallest people there they were rather easy to spot, and so they would be close to each other, thinking they were about to get away with it, when all of a sudden one of them would get yanked back by either Jen, Morgan, or their respective mothers. 

Eventually, they gave up. Moss allowed himself to be dragged back over to the little changing rooms round the back of the stage by his collar by Morgan, waving a little on the off chance that Roy was able to see him. It was nearly twelve, anyhow, and he needed to change in order to start greeting people. 

The suit was lovely. They’d gone for matching ones (for the photograph aesthetic, of course) from the same shop that they’d got their suits for Morgan’s wedding from. They were dark blue, with a light yellow tie and pocket square for Roy and a light pink one for Moss. It looked very smart, Moss thought as he looked at himself in the mirror. A lot smarter than he was used to. It was strange, but he kind of liked it. Shaking himself a little, he slipped his phone (on silent) into his inside pocket and headed out with Morgan to start greeting guests. 

People filtered in slowly, much to Moss’ delight. It gave him enough time to actually get to know who someone was, rather than just a quick “hello, here’s a glass of champagne, sit over there” type of thing. It was helpful to him, as Roy had copious amounts of family who he’d never met before. They all seemed lovely, as all of them had arrived before anyone else. The place was alive with the sound of Irish-accented voices shouting over to each other, and children yelling and playing with each other. Moss smiled to himself, taking a sip of his champagne and doing his best to ignore the horrid taste. Peter, too, had arrived with Reggie, although he quickly disappeared along with his son in order to find Jen, who had been with Roy this morning. 

Slowly but surely, others started to filter in. The Johns and Phil (along with their wives and children) arrived first, all three of them separately clapping Moss and the shoulder and congratulating him on getting married. After this was most of his own family. Brenda was first, but he was thankfully spared too much conversation with her because his Aunt Sarah from his dad’s side and her husband, their kids and their families had arrived. They chatted for a little while before his mum’s older sister showed up, and he talked to them too. After this it was pretty much just friends: people they both knew from school, college, uni, old jobs and the like. Dominator had been invited, but only under oath that he came as Sam. He, much to their relief, had not agreed to come under these pretenses alone. Sometimes Moss did wonder about the quality of some of their friends. 

It was about one when Jen tapped him on the shoulder. 

Moss politely excused himself from the (admittedly one-sided) conversation he had been having with one of Roy’s furiously chain-smoking uncles about farming equipment before turning to her. Before he had a chance to ask her what it was, she was pulling him away and down towards the changing rooms. 

“What--” he started to say, but Jen cut him off. 

“You need to come with me.” 

“Where?” 

“To see your damn husband.” 

“But tradition--” 

“To hell with tradition!” Jen roared. When Moss looked terrified, she shot him an apologetic look, taking a deep breath. “Roy is freaking out, and he is freaking out badly ,” she whispered as she dragged him down the corridor. 

“What!?” 

“You heard me.” 

“Why?” 

“Wish I knew.” 

Moss opened his mouth to ask her a question, but before he could they reached the changing rooms. Jen took a deep breath, shot him a look and opened the door. 

Inside the room was chaos. There was no other way to put it. Roy’s grandma (who Moss could have sworn he’d seen outside) was in the corner quietly murmuring the Rosary, whilst a couple of Roy’s sisters were just generally flapping around. Roy stood in the middle of the room, in utter bits. His parents were on either side of him, trying to calm him down. It wasn’t working. Moss could tell that he was in the midst of a panic attack, and all of this noise was not going to be helping him. 

“Right, people need to get out !” Moss shouted. He noticed his fiance wince, and a pang of guilt shot through his stomach. It worked, though. Most of them fell silent, except for Grandma in the corner still praying the Rosary. Moss took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes. “Jessica, Shania, go and get people to start sitting down. Please take your grandma with you.” 

The two of them nodded, doing as they were told. As she went past, Shania grabbed Moss’ arm. 

“He’s okay, isn’t he?” she murmured. Moss gave a small, forced smile. 

“He will be,” he replied quietly. 

Once they had gone, the atmosphere in the room was at least a little calmer. Roy was not, but Moss felt more able to deal with this.

“What happened?” he asked, turning to Roy’s parents. Michael shrugged a little. He looked incredibly rattled. Joan stepped forward. 

“He went out to take a call, he said, then came back, two seconds later he was… like this.”

Moss nodded. He came forward, placing his hands firmly on his fiance’s shoulders. Roy looked up at him. His eyes were wild with panic. Moss forced himself to hold eye contact with him, knowing that it would help calm him down. 

“Hi,” he said, his voice gentle and calm. “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m here.” 

“Aren’t you s’posed to be greetin’ people?” Roy forced out. 

“Never mind that,” Moss said quickly. “Now breath, my dear. Five in, hold for two, five out. Like you taught me?” 

Roy nodded. He managed to do this a couple of times, but quickly lost control of his breathing again. This cycle continued a few more times, and Moss was starting to get frazzled now. He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as he messed up Morgan’s somewhat careful styling. What the hell was he supposed to do?

His thought process was interrupted by Roy’s obnoxious pop music ringtone. 

It was a ringtone he’d added as a joke, but had secretly become very fond of. Either way, it was unmistakably Roy’s phone. Before Roy could get it (if he’d even been capable of it at that moment), his mother surged forward, grabbing it off the table. 

“Kayleigh…” she read out. She looked up. “Didn’t you have an ex-girlfriend called Kayleigh?” 

And that is when Roy just broke. 

“I need to tell you something…” he sobbed. Of course all the worst things passed through Moss’ mind, but he pushed them all away. He nodded, taking a small step forward. “A long time ago, back in uni… there was this girl… popular, really popular… we dated… or I thought we did…” 

He was speaking in strange snippets, like he wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying. Moss took this opportunity to take his fiance’s hands in his and calm his breathing down. This time it worked, and within five minutes Roy’s breathing was in a much more normal rhythm. 

“What were you saying?” Moss asked softly. Roy sniffed, staring down at the ground. Just as he was about to start talking, the door opened and Morgan flew in. Moss gave her a look, and she gave him an apologetic look, stopping where she was after closing the door. 

“When I was in uni, I met this girl called Kayleigh in halls,” Roy said. His voice was entirely dead and emotionless, to the point where it was actually rather perturbing. “She was a couple years older than me, in the year above but she was repeating a year. Stereotypical popular girl. Couldn’t believe she was interested in me at the time.” Roy chuckled a little, shaking his head. “Still can’t quite believe it now. I really loved her. She was probably the first person I ever loved. And I thought she loved me, at the time.”

Moss had a horrible feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. 

“Roy…” he mumbled. 

“She controlled everything ,” Roy said. “I paid for dates, shopping, everything. She always chose where we went. Sometimes it would get to the point where I had so little money left I had to go without food or less food so she could eat.” He looked up, turning to his mother. “You met her, a few times. The two of you hated each other, and you knew she was bad news, but I didn’t want to listen.” He turned back to Moss. “She cut me off. From everything. But it got to the point, a couple years in, where people started to notice. I was losing weight too fast, and sometimes she’d dig her nails into my arms and I’d forget about the bruises. Teachers started saying stuff.” Roy paused, shaking his head and looking back down. “She broke it off. Said I wasn’t interesting enough. It ruined me, completely. Shattered my self confidence. I thought I was over her, but she’s been calling me all week and it’s brought it all back.” 

Morgan looked over to him in sudden understanding. 

“Is that why you were so afraid of me?” she asked quietly, one hand pressed over her mouth. Roy nodded, his gaze on the ground. Morgan turned to the others. “The first time we met, Roy seemed terrified that I was going to steal Moss or something. It didn’t make sense at the time, but now…” 

She trailed off, biting her lip. Moss turned away from her, stepping forward and putting his hand on his fiance’s shoulder. 

“I love you,” he said. “And I’ll never do anything like that to you.” 

“I know,” Roy said quickly, looking up. Moss reached forward, wiping his tears away. 

There was a knock at the door. Everyone fell quiet, looking towards the door. A moment later, the officiant’s head popped around the door. 

“Are we still having a wedding today?” he asked. “It’s just, it’s nearly half one.” 

Everyone looked at their watches, and then their eyes widened. It was true: the wedding was supposed to be starting in five minutes. 

“I’ll be back in a second,” Moss said to Roy quickly. He gave him a quick kiss before running out into the ceremony area. The officiant followed him. Moss made a small noise, making everyone turn to him. “Give us ten minutes!” he shouted. He ran a hand through his hair, and then caught Isabella’s eye. “Um, Isabella will keep you entertained!” 

They can’t complain about a kid, he thought as he ran back to the changing rooms. He grabbed Roy’s hand, giving him a small smile. “Let’s get ready,” he said quietly. 

Roy managed a small smile. 

***

Sure enough, ten minutes later Roy appeared, face freshly scrubbed and free from tears, from the changing room. When he appeared, everyone turned and clapped. He didn’t know if this was normal, but he smiled at everyone as he walked up the aisle and took his place at the front. His mother stood next to him. 

The music started, Moss appeared and then nobody else mattered. 

He looked stunning. Roy had seen him in the suit, obviously, but now with the music and the sunlight he looked even more beautiful. He had linked arms with his mother, and they were smiling at each other. When they got to the end, Moss’ mum unlinked her arm and kissed her son on the cheek. She leaned forward to Roy. 

“He’s your problem now,” she whispered. Roy giggled, nodding. Moss tried to glare at her, but it didn’t really work and he ended up smiling at her. She smiled at him again, going over and standing to the side. 

“We are here today to witness the union of Moss and Roy,” the officiant said. Everybody beamed forward. Moss and Roy didn’t notice: they were too busy looking at each other. “And we’ve agreed we’re going straight to vows. Moss, do you want to go first?” 

Moss nodded. He smiled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the little book. He took a deep breath as he opened the little book. 

“I never thought I was ever going to get married when I was younger,” he said. “But the first time I saw you I knew that I wanted to marry you one day. For a long time I never thought it was going to happen. I was just happy that you were part of my life. You were the best friend I could ever have, then the best boyfriend, the best fiance and now you will be the best husband. And I hope that I can be the best for you too.” He paused as the officiant handed him the ring. Half of the audience was already starting to cry. He reached for his fiance’s hands, gently putting the ring on Roy’s finger. “So, if you ever need me, you can look down at this ring and remember that I’m always here for you. I love you, now and forever. Always have, always will.” 

“Roy?” the officiant gently prompted. Roy quickly wiped his eyes, nodding his head. 

“I have to admit, I didn’t think I was gonna be marrying you,” he started. A chuckle rippled around the room. He smiled. “But I’m glad I am. Marrying you, I mean. You’re the best. Really. You’ve helped me realise so much about myself, more than I ever thought I would, and I’m sure you’ll spend the rest of our lives teaching me things about myself. So yes, I will bail you out when you steal Grand Designs DVDs.” Another ripple of laughter. “And I will listen to your invention ideas, and I will help you clean the kitchen when you burn dinner.” The officiant handed him the ring now, and he did the same as Moss had. “I love you, and I plan on spending the rest of our lives showing you.” 

After this was the official business: the signing of the register, the easy paperwork, that stuff. When they came back out from the summerhouse, they took their places at the foot of the stairs. 

“I’ve been told to thank everyone for attending, and to let you know that the grooms will be available for photos,” he said. He turned to Moss. “Do you, Maurice Moss, take Roy Trenneman to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

Moss grinned. 

“I do.” 

“And do you, Roy Trenneman, take Maurice Moss to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

“I do,” Roy said with a smile. 

“Then I am delighted to announce you as husband and husband. You may kiss the groom!” 

As they leaned in for a kiss, a cheer went up around the venue. 

After this, everyone received a glass of champagne (or sparkling apple juice for the children) and the two of them mingled for a little while before the photos were taken. Then the photos were taken: given the size of Roy’s family, this took rather a while, but once it was done the air was very relaxed. After this it was just dinner and the party. 

They weren’t having a formal sit-down dinner: there were too many kids, and neither of them could be bothered to have a dinner like that, really. They were having a buffet-barbeque type dinner, all of their favourite foods. They chose a table, sitting themselves down and letting people come to them rather than walking around. It worked very well. The kids were running around outside when Jen stood and tapped her fork against her glass. Everyone turned to look at her with a smile. 

“Oh yeah, these lot are gonna do speeches,” Roy called, gesturing to those who were sitting at their table (their parents, Jen and Morgan). 

“Hi, I’m Jen Barber,” Jen said with a smile. “I work with these two. We’re friends. Somehow. Honestly, I don’t even know how.” A laugh went through the room. “No, I’ve known these idiots for a decade now and honestly, I always knew there was something between them. The kiss by the gas works was definitely a clue…” Another chuckle. “But no. These two are in love. They’re more in love than anyone I’ve ever seen before, and it’s actually lovely to work with. It reminds you that there is good still when you’re having a bad day. So, I wish them the best, and only the happiest life. To Moss and Roy!” 

“To Moss and Roy!” everyone else cheered, raising their glasses. 

After this, Moss’ mum did a speech, and then Roy’s parents. Many embarrassing stories were told, lots of laughs were shared, and Moss and Roy found themselves feeling a genuine rush of love for their parents. After this, they did the traditional cutting of the cake (chocolate, much to Moss’ delight) and Moss ate far too much cake for his own good. They were just getting ready to do their first dance when Jen and Peter appeared behind them. 

“I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to crash your big day,” Jen said. Her voice was very quiet. She smiled. “But I’m pregnant again.” 

“No!” Roy said, hushed. Jen nodded, smiling. 

“Only about three weeks on, so the stag night shouldn’t have affected anything,” she said. “But I wanted to let you know.” 

“Aw, Jen, that’s incredible,” Roy said, grinning. Moss nodded along with a smile on his face. “Congratulations, seriously.”

“Ladies and gentleman, please be upstanding for the first dance,” Roy’s father announced. Jen moved away. Moss and Roy glanced at each other. Moss nodded, and Roy did so back. Taking each other’s hand, they made their way to the dance floor. 

The sound of the music filled the air. Moss took a deep breath, resting one hand on his husband’s waist and holding his other hand. Slowly, they began to move in a waltz. They both remembered the disastrous first attempt. Today, though, with Michael Buble singing ‘Everything’ in the background, everything went perfectly. They moved smoothly around the dancefloor, even daring to twirl around a couple of times. They ended the song with Roy gently dipping Moss down and kissing him softly. 

After this, the evening gave way to stupid dancing, fun games and drinking. Eventually people began to trickle out, and by about midnight only their really close friends and family were left. All of the children were asleep under various jackets on chairs that had been dragged together or under tables, and most of the adults were sat around chatting or were slow-dancing to the current romantic song that was on. Moss and Roy were dancing, holding each other close as they gently swayed. 

“This has been the best day ever,” Moss whispered. 

“It has been, hasn’t it?” Roy replied. 

“I love you so much.” 

“I love you too, so much.” There was a moment of quiet whilst they danced together, listening to the music. “Everything is what you are to me, my love.” 

They grinned at each other, instinctively knowing that the rest of their lives was going to be just as beautiful.