And it was music to my soul, because I wasn’t fucking anyone else either. I lived for Seve’s touch. But, sue me and my stupid insecurity.

  “You’re a sexy, attractive man, Seve. You must meet guys, you’re young, we all have needs. And I haven’t been able to leave the country while I’m on supervision.”

  “I’ve travelled here whenever I could, believe me—”

  “I know, I’m not complaining about that!” Or was I? “I know you’ve been sorting out your business over there. But if you wanted to talk about us being more open… I know long-term relationships don’t have a whole lot of success.” Where was all this shit coming from?

  “Stop this.” He still held me tight, shaking his head. “I don’t want to fuck anyone but you. I don’t want anyone but you. Do you hear me?”

  I nodded, dumb from the fierce, possessive, but anguished look in his eyes. It expressed my own feelings just as strongly.

  “Do you want something more, Max?” he hissed. “Someone more?”

  “Fuck, no!” Oh God, what was I doing? How the hell could I think there was anyone better than the naked man in bed with me right now? “Please. I didn’t mean… No, Seve. No.”

  He dropped his hand from my jaw, slowly, and nodded. His breath seemed to calm.

  “But, maybe,” I said quietly, “I do need to know… what are you doing here?”

  His hand lingered by my cheek, then he ran it teasingly down my body, from my throat to my groin, skimming over the drying cum, and nudging my now-limp cock against my thigh. “Fucking you,” he said with a twisted smile. “Didn’t you notice?”

  I snorted. “What do you think? And I’m grateful and happy, don’t get me wrong. But we’ve always kept to the routine of me coming to you. It’s always a last-minute decision when you’ll arrive, or how long you’ll stay. So, I come to you, wherever you are, to make the most of our time. And the last time we met at that Ibis hotel in Gatwick? You were going back the next morning to Spain for at least a month.”

  He looked suddenly, uncharacteristically pained. Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t a word I associated with Seve Nuñez. Even all those months ago, when we’d faced attack and danger and the collapse of both our lives.

  “I don’t tell you enough,” he said, his tone much more serious.

  “Enough what?”

  “For six months we’ve been meeting whenever I come to England. For six months I’ve been calling you to my hotel room, then leaving after a day or two, and expecting you to wait until I call again.”

  There wasn’t much I could say in protest, because it was true. He’d been working solidly in Spain, and his first priority was to keep his mother and their livelihoods safe. I understood that. He didn’t give me any details but, to be honest, we were usually too busy stripping and falling on each other in the precious time we had together. Plus, I was often distracted, too. Hayley was helping me apply for apprenticeships for a basic training in social care, while working every other waking hour at the site, to earn enough money to keep the rest of my life going. My boss, Geoff, had thrown my holiday schedule in the trash at one point, when I dashed off yet again after a call from Seve to fuck knows where with no fucking notice, and you’d better make up the bloody time or I’ll have something even more fucking lairy to say about it all. But he’d grinned as he said it. He was another good soul who believed in offering second chances.

  Oh, for sure, Seve and I called each other in between times. Thank God for video calling. But sometimes my internet connection wasn’t good, and sometimes his laptop ran out of battery because he’d been travelling. And if I ran out of data and had to borrow Mrs B’s phone, it was bloody tricky to have phone sex with her watching Eastenders on the TV at top volume two rooms away, while juggling her ancient handset that couldn’t travel too far from its charging dock without starting to crackle and beep after every third word.

  Seve was a natural genius at sexting, mind you. I wasn’t complaining about that, either. But it wasn’t much good for those days when I actually didn’t want to get off twice in a night, collapsing on my bed with a sore wrist and a well-used dildo. Those days when I just wanted company. Some ordinary, uninterrupted, casual time together. A chat about the local transport strike. A shared critique of the latest movie. And a cuddle.

  I cradled Seve’s face in my hands. “I don’t care. I’m happy with this. With whatever we have. I’ve said that from the start, haven’t I?” I didn’t have anything else in my life that was as important to me. That may have seemed a poor reward for some people—Jack, for one, always looked disapproving when I had to break a pub date if Seve was suddenly arriving in the country, even when I knew it was because he cared about me—but that was how things were. Seve and I had been through so much, and fought so hard to find desire and fulfilment with each other, that I wasn’t going to deny it now.

  He was silent for a moment. His eyes looked suspiciously damp, but I had never known Seve cry, not for reasons of sadness, anger, or grief. Not for anything or anyone.

  “I hear you, Max. And I’m also happy with every and any moment with you.”

  I kissed him, but something was off between us. Not in a sinister way, perhaps, but something was shifting.

  “Are you staying over tonight? Will you find time with me to talk about this later?” I asked softly.

  “Jesus, Max.” There was that pained look again. “Do you have to ask?”

  “Good,” I said, sliding my leg across his, pinning him to the mattress. My cock was already thickening again, and his pressed against my inner thigh with equal interest. “Because there may just be time to try that here, on your sofa thing before I’m due at the venue!”

  3 – Max

  We got showered as quickly as we could, and Seve offered to help me get ready. I confess I lingered a little longer than I needed, as he helped me dress. It was a delight to have his hands on me, skilful and protective, yet not immediately for sex. His concentration on my shirt buttons was impressive, his diligence apparent as he tied a decent knot in my tie for me. I didn’t think I’d ever experienced a domestic scene like this, let alone with Seve. It unsettled me, yet I craved it at the same time.

  “There are cufflinks in my drawer,” I said, as my shirt sleeves flapped loose around my wrists. “I borrowed them from Geoff.” They had the Brighton and Hove Albion FC crest on them, but I didn’t think my outfit was the one being looked at closely today.

  “Take these,” Seve said abruptly, and unfastened his own. He’d dressed back in his suit, which was travel-worn, but he still looked a picture of sexy executive in it.

  I stared at him. “You wanna trust me not to lose them? They were your grandfather’s—you told me so once. A treasured gift to you from your Mama’s father.” They were beautiful gold knots and they glinted in the light from the window over my bed as he fixed them into my brand-new cuffs. They meant a lot to him, I knew it.

  He looked back up into my eyes. “I want you to have them, not just borrow them. Now they are a gift to you, Max. From me.”

  I just kept staring like some village idiot. It wasn’t the cost of the cufflinks that worried me, though they would be the most expensive thing I’d ever owned. It was the fact they were so important to him—yet he was giving them to me.

  “I can’t—” I began.

  “Later,” he said sharply. “Later, we will talk, okay?”

  I nodded slowly, then turned in a circle, holding my hands out to the side. “So, how do I look?”

  His eyes narrowed and a smile played on his lips. “Smart. Sexy. Fabulous.” He cleared his throat and then, ignoring my blushes, he kissed me once, firmly. “You’ll be late for your wedding duties,” he said, stepping away from me. “Hurry now.”

  “Not yet,” I said.

  He frowned at me, puzzled.

  “Seve. It’s a plus one invitation, don’t you remember? You’re coming with me. Aren’t you?”

  He flushed. “I’m not sure I’ll be welcome.”

  “You’re with me,” I said with a frown. Hey, I could be assertive, too. “That’s all the welcome you need. And I’m not letting you out of my sight today!”

  We struck it lucky—Mrs B’s mobile hairdresser Roman was just leaving the house as we clattered down the stairs in our suits, and they both paused to greet us. Mrs B looked appalled at the thought we were going to get on the bus into town, and she did that things some mothers do, wiping a non-existent spot of dirt off my chin with a moistened edge of her hankie. Then she bossily insisted Roman would give us a lift to the Register Office. He winked at me as he cheerfully agreed, after a surreptitious, admiring glance up and down Seve, standing behind me. At least, Roman probably thought it was surreptitious. I was on the verge of smacking him away, all the way down to the promenade.

  Seve wouldn’t come in with me at the Register Office, though, and I didn’t have any opportunity to tell the guys that he was with me. After they’d said their vows and exchanged rings and the small group of our closest friends cheered and did masses of hugging and kissing, we were all meant to cab it to Resurrection in time to greet the guests. The club was opening early to allow Jack and Louis some private and exclusive time before it officially opened in the evening to weekend clubbers. It was, indeed, a very generous gesture.

  But I held back from getting in the grooms’ cab, despite Jack’s gentle insistence, because I couldn’t see Seve anywhere outside the Register Office. For a moment, the panic engulfed me: had he been called away, and was even now on his way back to Spain? Was he so bloody reluctant to go to the wedding he’d abandoned me? Did I deserve to be left with nothing but a hot kiss and a sore arse, to remember every time I sat down during the festivities?

  Then a text buzzed on my phone.

  I will see you at the club. Take time with your friends. Do your duties. Then we can both relax. S.

  “Okay?” Jack said in my ear, trying again to guide me into the car.

  “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “No. Wait.” Jack’s hand tightened on my arm, pulling me to a stop. “Listen, Max, it’s fine. Take your time, if you need to. We really appreciate you being here with us today. Keeping an eye on the arrangements. Keeping an eye on us.”

  Louis’ voice floated out through the cab’s open door, laughter in every syllable. “Just not in—”

  “—the shower! I know,” I snorted in reply. It had become one of our in-jokes. “And I mean it, I’m fine, let’s get going.” I climbed quickly into the car, ignoring the driver’s rueful impatience, Louis’ banter, and Jack’s curious look.

  Because I was savouring the pleasure of smiling happily again.

  Once at Resurrection, I spent time with the staff, making sure things were set up correctly for us. They came up to me for advice, too; there was some confusion about the size of the food tables, and a couple of the cases of champagne, donated by the Fuzzy Peach, had been temporarily mislaid. But it didn’t take long to sort everything out.

  “Thank God you’re here,” Jack muttered as he passed me with an armful of flowers that had just been delivered. “I’m not sure my nerves are up to this. I’d have been happy with a pie and a pint—”

  “No, you wouldn’t. And Louis certainly wouldn’t.” I scooped the flowers from him and handed them off to a passing club employee to find a vase. Then I shooed Jack ahead of me to where the celebration was being held.

  We had the use of two smaller rooms, cosier than the main dancefloor hall with its high ceiling, multi-coloured light show, and snug booths around the side. Though I suspected that was where most of us would end up as the night wore on and the club opened to the public. But the Vs and I had decorated our rooms with balloons, glitter, wedding streamers, and more than a few neon unicorn signs on the wall. A lot of food and drink flowed, and the music in the background was a playlist of all Jack and Louis’ favourite dance numbers. With the addition of a crowd of people who loved the guys and were eager to share a good time with them, I knew the event was gonna be one to remember, as it should be.

  I caught up with all our friends, and accepted a lot of hugs plus good-natured teasing about how I’d managed not to lose the rings. Of course, I bloody hadn’t, I protested, how could they even think that’d happen? Cue even more ribbing, and plenty of memories of times I had lost important stuff, until I shouted and laughed them down.

  I was just starting to relax, having checked in my own jacket at the cloakroom before it closed, and was loosening my tie, when Seve’s cologne teased my sense of smell, and his hand slid around my waist from behind.

  I sucked in a deep, relieved breath and let it out on a sigh of pleasure. Seve would know what that meant.

  He nuzzled my neck, chuckling. “It’s good to see you, too, Max. I never imagined you would look so delicious in a suit.”

  “I’ll wear it next time on the train to Gatwick to meet you,” I joked. “And probably arrive in a crumpled mess with coffee stains on my lapel and cake crumbs in my lap. Where have you been?”

  Seve turned me to face him and leant his forehead on mine. “I needed to arrange a gift for the grooms. To thank them.”

  “For inviting you? That was all me, y’know—”

  “For bringing you to me in the first place,” Seve continued, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “A far greater gift.”

  I blinked hard. My heart soared for a glorious moment, while my head told me he was probably just making a joke. But before I could dig any deeper into that statement, Jack and Louis swept into view, leaving a many-voiced cheer and laughter in their wake. They were doing the rounds of their friends and guests for the fifth time already, loving the attention, sharing their happiness with everyone else here. Louis had glitter on his cheeks, and Jack’s hair was a mess despite the product Louis had insisted he used to keep it in order. They both looked a little frazzled, but were spectacular together; Louis, a slim, pale, volatile, pretty peacock set against Jack’s stoic, solid, dark-skinned, caring handler. And no one could mistake their mutual look of love and devotion every time they caught each other’s eyes.

  But they were now directly in front of us, with matching, curious expressions.

  “Seve?” Jack’s eyes narrowed. He sounded calm, but I felt the tension between them.

  “Jack,” Seve said. His voice was a little strained. “Congratulations to you both.”

  Jack glanced at me, then back to Seve. “Thank you.”

  “I understand that this is short notice, for me to attend. I’m willing to wait for Max until after the party—”

  “God, no way! It’s absolutely fine. It’s good to see you here.” That was from Louis, hanging on Jack’s arm, a fizzing pink cocktail in his free hand. The pair of them had coordinating dove-grey suits, though Jack looked elegant in his, whereas Louis looked like he’d dropped off a catwalk boldly wearing the latest fashion outrage. I couldn’t work out what they did differently, so I assumed it was their personalities shining through. But their excitement was a perfect match—Louis’ face was pink, and Jack’s eyes shone brighter than I’d ever seen them. Not for the first time, I thanked God they were my friends, and had helped me so much, but also that it was a good thing I’d finally moved out to my own place, leaving them to an uninterrupted married life in theirs.

  “How are things going?” Jack asked Seve. Such a polite, innocuous question, but maybe not when Jack knew all about the black sheep of Seve’s family.

  “Good,” Seve replied, meeting Jack’s gaze with bravado. “Things are going well for me now.”

  There was a moment’s awkward silence. I knew what else Seve was trying to say; he was free of that drama, he was carving out a legitimate career for himself, he was no longer tarred with the same brush as his jailed uncle. How would all that be accepted here, today? But when Jack nodded and smiled, I could see with relief that he understood.

  “As Louis says, we’re glad you could join us,” Jack said. “Our friends all have their companions and partners here today. That’s what the whole message is about.”

  Louis made a weird squeeing noise and winked mischievously at Jack. “Max is especially glad, of course. Now I know why he was looking so smug at the wedding!”

  “Shut up, you arse,” I muttered, though I was biting back a grin. “And I was not looking smug.”

  As Louis rolled his eyes and they both turned away to greet someone else, Seve drew me to the edge of the room and out of the main swirl of guests. “You are sure, about me being here?”

  I frowned. “Seve, now you’re being the arse. I invited you, months ago, when they first set the date. I wanted you to come with me, as my partner. Don’t you remember?”

  Seve was paler than before. “I remember very well. I explained I was scheduled to be in Spain on that date. This date.”

  “And yet, here you are.”

  But Seve wasn’t smiling back at me. “I would like us to find somewhere more quiet,” he said. “To talk about things. When will your duties allow you to come with me?”

  I looked at his serious, worried face, then I glanced across the room. The grooms were with a group of Jack’s police colleagues; the Vs and Bob/Bryan were setting up some kind of drinking game; other groups of guests were chatting, sharing plates of food, and posing for photos. No one was interested in us, at least for the moment.

  “Now is good,” I said, though I wasn’t sure good was the right description for what might be coming. “Come with me.”

  4 – Seve

  Of course, I knew this club of old—when it was Compulsion, and when I was its manager. I strode the corridors tonight with familiarity borne of those days, long past. Was it awkward for me, being here, remembering my past role, my excessive arrogance in those times, the mistakes I had made? Most definitely, but I did not wish to dwell on it at this moment. Instead, I let Max lead me towards the front entrance, away from the noise of the reception, and the clatter and shouts of the employees now busy in the main room and bar, setting up for the evening. When we reached the unattended cloakroom, and he paused a fraction of a second before opening the staff door behind the counter, I released an involuntary groan.