#cause joe is way too old to be a twink

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.9

TW Purposeful misgendering of MC, and overall skeevy first POV.

MC is agender and here I started this chapter with the POV of someone out right misgendering them.

Capital He/Him pronouns are associated with Slender.

He was angry, but then again when wasn't He. You've wasted too much time on “laying low”. And now He's getting impatient, you're starting to hear whispers about potential replacements and incompetency. First you fuck up your mission then you gave Him the subpar sacrifice of that dumb hippie. He didn't want her, He wanted her. Her being your current and original target.

The girl who moved to town in the middle of March, YN. Didn't wait for the month to end or come the first week of the new one. Such a strange time to move...almost as if she was running away from something. He had taken an interest in her immediately. You didn't see what was so special about her, just another mousy girl in a small town, very obedient from what you saw.

Maybe that's what caught His attention. A new little puppet to add to His collection...but His urgency with this task didn't really fit. You knew for a fact He wasn't human but...could He have desires of the flesh? Was this a twisted perversion of your god's? The fuzzy feeling in your head gets painful at the thought.

'Ok, you aren't after some ass.' you think trying to appease Him.

It doesn't work, your apology is almost as worthless as you are to Him in this moment. You've really been testing Him lately, understandably this is your last chance so to speak. Bring Him YN or you won't be His problem much longer.

A chill runs down your spine at the ill intent you feel through your contract.

You're working on it, really you are. But she's so stupid and air headed it will take a while to break her for Him to be able to properly mold her. Not to mention she seems to have acquired a new guard dog. One that seems to have problems staying still, yet will spend hours watching her.

You'd seen him around town a few times in the past week or two, he has two other companions who aren't as bad about keeping low profiles. Yeah, you'd seen each of them at her house at one point or another. The short one seemed to have a nasty habit of slinking into her home in the dead of night as she slept. He didn't seem to go in during her drives, only when she'd be there. The tall one would come in the early morning or middle of the day, either to retrieve his partner or to snoop around inside for a bit before leaving. Aside from his partner he never seemed to leave with anything, never went in with anything either. They weren't leaving traces so they couldn't be your replacements.

Even if they had been they didn't seem too tough, you could over take them easy. Show Him you were still good for something.

But worst of all was her fucking mutt. He'd just circle the outside of the house, inspecting it. For what you have no clue, but he kept at it like he had a keen eye and could detect the slightest change of the home. One day he started looking off into the tree line and you'd almost swear he knew where you were. And while his nearly all black eyes made you think he was your replacement, intimidating you, your god suggested otherwise.

Reminding you that they weren't breaking her down for Him. That was your job.

Not only was the twink annoyingly thorough when at her home but he seems to have followed her to work today. You hope this isn't a new habit for him, you'll need to catch YN off guard at some point and you can't do that with that stupid twitching bastard around.

He bought two books and YN had seemed surprised when he came up to chat with her after finishing the first one. She's not your normal type but you can't deny she is cute talking so excitedly, you really wish that fucking mask was off her face so you could see her plump lips move. Come to think of it, twitchy was also wearing a mask. Is that why she talks so freely with him? Was all you had to do to get close to her was wear a mask? Or did she have a little crush on this guy?

No, she's speaking the same way she would with one of the Hornets. He however has a certain look in his eye while they talk. Maybe someone does have a crush...Or maybe he's just a disgusting stalker like you are. Were, like you were that is before your god saw the potential in you. And blessed you as one of his followers.

If he is a creepy little stalker tailing her you could let him do the breaking, and then you'd swoop in for the kill. Would that take too long? Better yet would your god even be happy with the idea. He can get very touchy about plans, down to the tiniest details too. You've witnessed first hand what He does to those who leave gaps for targets to get through.

Reprogramming doesn't seem pleasant. But that'll be the least of your worries if you don't get a move on with delivering Him His choice of offering. In the years you've been of service to your god...you don't recall Him ever choosing his offering. A target yes of course plenty, but His next puppet or a special meal. No this was big, testing your worth probably, very big.

'And you're failing.' that voice isn't yours.

'How, astute.' He's chatty today. That's always a bad thing. For you anyway.

You turn your attention to the bookshop across the street, coffee shops make such great covers especially when you add a laptop and act as though you're writing a novel, no one spares you a glance. It's five and that means quitting time, maybe YN wouldn't go home right away. You could run into her and plant some seeds of paranoia in her.

Mess with her head, have her freak out and cause a scene in town to discredit her further in the future. Your typical MO. After all she is just the simple new girl in town, and small town residents don't trust easy.

'This should be fun.' you think as you pack up your computer and notebook.

Heading to your car you wait in the parking lot for a moment, making it look as though you were busy with your phone while you waited to see that ugly yellow car drive in one direction or another. It doesn't take long before you catch sight of the brightly colored Kia taking the road towards the general store.

Wonderful, one humiliating panic attack in public coming up. This was something you could manage perfectly on your own. Though maybe once your god was more pleased with you, you'd ask for His assistance in giving her a few more hallucinations. After all the faster she's broken down the faster He gets what He wants.

Once at the small store you park one space away from her Kia. Normally for targets you prefer if they don't notice your car but it's not like there's room to go else where in this parking lot. Just as you're about to make your way inside, you hear more murmuring.

How the hell are you supposed to do His bidding when all He seems to want to do is keep interfering? It's getting so frustrating that you're starting to question your god's intelligence.

For your insolence you are hit hard with the worst migraine you've ever gotten since taking up a contract with Him.

'You are not the only one following them.' is the biting retort.

Moving your head despite the pain, you scan the store through squinted eyelids as you stand just out of your car. And you catch sight of him, that twitching guard dog from before. He hasn't noticed you but he seems to be sharing a cart with YN.

Did she get a boyfriend? Were you just unaware of that detail this entire time? She seems too relaxed with him for that to be anything else. They look too domestic together, you'll have fun ripping them apart. She'll probably cry like the bitch she is when you do, that's a very nice picture.

'Leave.' what now?

'Leave before he catches on to you.' The twitchy twink? You could take him in a fight, kid is practically all bones, why should you leave?

Instead of an answer your migraine intensifies. For the first time in years you are racked with so much pain that you would've collapsed on the ground if your car hadn't been near to steady yourself.

A chime of a bell sounds, “Hey pal you alright there?”, it's just Leo. Luckily you've never shopped at his store so likely hood of him knowing who you are or mentioning this to anyone isn't high.

“Ah...yeah,” you say through the wincing, “real bad migraine.”

“I got some Excedrin-”

“I'll just come back later.” you cut him off and get back into your car. Movement isn't easy for you under all this pain but you can feel His presence in your mind gaining control. You'll either wake up back in your bed or on the forest floor covered in blood and ticks. You really hope it isn't the last one as you black out just as you turn onto 3rd Avenue.

Leo comes back into the store almost as soon as he ran out.

“Everything ok?” you ask. You'd seen the man run out when you turned around to ask if he had gluten free vegetable stock.

“Yea, some tourist must'a got car sick or somethin'.” you nod at his gruff reply.

“Oh, do you have any gluten free vegetable stock?”

The old man eyes you warily.

“Kid don' tell me ya got on one a those fad diets.”

“No it's for the Picnic next week. I wanted to make an all diet friendly foragers pie.” you said shaking your head, which snaps right twice. Behind you you hear a muffled clucking coming from Toby.

Toby had hung out at the shop with you today. After he read through The Son of Neptune the two of you had discussed the series for a bit before you almost let some spoiler slip through. Toby couldn't help but laugh when you pushed him into a reading nook to finish reading the series before you ruined it for him. He got two thirds of The Mark of Athena done before you clocked out for the day.

While leaving he mentioned he needed to go shopping and asked where the grocery store in town was because he hadn't seen one in the area. You offered to take him to Leo's shop because it had everything you could need and was a small local business. Like most things in Kepler but there was a Trader Joe's that opened up in town, and they don't have much to offer when you cook from scratch. So here you were shopping together.

“I think we have organic no clue if it's vegan though.”

“Gluten free.” Leo rolls his eyes in dismissal and goes off to find the organic broth for you.

“Was there anything else you needed to grab?” you asked turning to look at Toby.

He had a list with him and had been ripping small tears to cross off what he'd gotten. He nods once then twice as his eyes find items he had yet to find, until they stop near the bottom of the list. Toby's dark brown eyes roll so hard you're pretty sure they rolled to the back of his skull. He lets out a dramatic 'agh' sound at whatever was on the list. Before crumbling it and tossing it into the cart.

“Atomic Fireballs and eggs. Can you grab the candy? Some people get pissy about their eggs.” he says cutting his eyes to the cooler containing eggs. This is probably a regular argument with the group.

With a small nod and an “mmhmm” you run off to the candy isle. You smell the cinnamon candy before you even see the container on the shelf. Before running off back to Toby and the cart, you pause debating if you should grab some M&Ms or chocolate chips to make cookies for tomorrow's movie night. You had stress eaten the snacks you bought last week only having the Surge left for Kirby, like hell you would drink it yourself.

After the week you've had baking sounded really nice. The mind numbing activity would probably be therapeutic since you haven't baked in so long. You grab two of the bigger bottles of mini M&Ms they always taste better to you, plus mini cookies tend to be a bigger hit than their regular sized counter parts. On your way to the front of the store you pass an end cap for chips. Seeing the white cheddar popcorn you like you grab a bag to replace the one you ate earlier in the week.

You should be set now, as long as Leo had the broth. If he didn't gluten free broth seems like something the Trader Joe's would have.

Toby's already at the counter with Leo, who had a box of broth off to the side. Noice. You place the Atomic candy on the counter with the rest of Toby's items. Leo looks between the two of you but brushes off whatever thought or comment he had.

“This it for you kid?”Leo has already begun ringing him out.

You see the movement of Toby's mouth open while he double checks the cart, he closes it when he sees the wad of paper. He must have forgotten something. Going over your own list you double check to make sure you have everything before it's your turn.

“N-n-n-no, can I-I-I get two boxes of condoms? St-s-st-standard and Large.” Toby's popping his knuckles a little more aggressively than normal, well what you've equated to normal for Toby.

'Oh.' the add ons sort of surprise you, but his exaggerated sigh from earlier makes more sense. Why did you even think that eggs caused that sort of reaction? It was probably because he was gonna have to ask for condoms in front of you. His new friend, nearly a stranger. Toby's agitated tics and stuttering are very valid right now.

You miss the look Leo gives you but Toby doesn't and when Leo looks back at him his tics get more frequent.

Looking to Toby when his 'mrrow' tic keeps repeating, you see the tips of his ears are a soft pink. A stark contrast to their normally grayish white complexion. Wanting to help but knowing he's most likely just embarrassed you decide to say nothing and ignore the situation. Thankfully Leo doesn't make any type of comment either as he finishes ringing out Toby and hands him his receipt.

“This it kid?” He says as he starts checking out your items.

“Um...ah, what's the pizza today?” this week isn't your normal pizza week but with the Picnic being next weekend you probably won't do pizza next week. And you have to have a slice ready for Chonk, least he decides to see what human taste like.

“Spinach and mushroom, a white pizza.”

“Yea I'll take one of those then please.”

“Garlic crust?” How very dare this man. What kind of question is that.

“Of course.”

He leaves to the back of the store yet again to retrieve your pizza. There's a silence that falls over the store as he leaves, leaving only you and Toby out front. Not an awkward type of silence but you definitely aren't going to risk a glance at Toby right now.

“I threw in an extra for that stray you've been feeding.” He says as he returns. Toby having calmed down a bit scoffs at the stray comment.

“That isn't a-a-a stray it's a fucking dem-mon.”

“Ok like that's fair, but he is kinda cute.”

“I don't care what it is, just keep it away from my store.” Leo finishes ringing you up. “Bad for business to have a wild animal rooting through the garbage.” Leo doesn't care about that stuff he also fears Chonk, and all his trash panda glory.

Once you settled your tab with Leo you and Toby go out to your car. You place his items in the backseat while you take the trunk, so no one goes home with the wrong item. Stars forbid you end up with the condom bag and have to awkwardly give that to Toby or even worse Brian or Tim. You've had four interactions with the man but already you can hear Brian's teasing banter.

Getting situated in the car you hand your phone to Toby to pick the music. You'd left your entire library open this time and not just the home page, you wanted to see if he'd pick something different or just go with the last thing played. He did scroll a bit before just clicking the last played playlist. Well at least he looked, maybe you'd make a playlist and see what he liked. He could just enjoy the songs.

While you're stuck at the light waiting to turn you remember consciously that Saturday Night Dead is tomorrow. You wonder if the trio would be joining you all. Wouldn't hurt to ask.

“Hey so are you guys coming over to the Cryptonomica tomorrow night?”

“Tim and Brian are.” Toby's eyes glance at the window as he picks at the skin around his nails.

“Oh. Why aren't you coming?” you hope you don't sound too pushy.

“Hi, I'm Toby I have Tourette's.” He says in a deadpan.

“Nice to meet you, I'm YN I have Autism.” you sass back cutting your eyes to him, “and I have tics too remember.”

“You can sit beside me. The gang never mentions my ticcing or stimming during a movie and I sit in the corner to be less of a distraction.”

From the corner of your eye you can see he peeled off a bit of skin and is now bleeding. When you slow down at the light you reach over him to the glove box and pull out a box of band-aids. Tossing the box in his lap you focus back on the road. There's a cracking sound when Toby's shoulder pop from a tic but other than that you two fall into a lull in the conversation.

From the corner of your eye you see Toby put the box in the cup holders between you. This little shit, just because he doesn't feel pain doesn't mean picking his skin is a healthy fidget.

“...I..I'll think about it.” he's still picking at his skin but maybe reassurance will help him calm down.

“Well, I hope I see you tomorrow then,” you can't help the grin on your face, you're just a touch giddy at the fact you've made a friend this fast. “No pressure though.” can't be too pushy you might scare him off.

You hear a huff as he turns more of his body to look out the window. He isn't upset his energy feels calm almost excited, it's nice to meet someone who isn't so confusing with their actions. Though you'd wish he wouldn't try to hide them. Maybe you both have the same idea of not wanting to overwhelm the other right away. You get the feeling this situation...your blooming friendship with Toby, it isn't something he's use to.

Getting to the RV you help Toby carry in the groceries, despite his protests that he can do it. It was just machismo of course, because once inside the RV you noticed how clean it was for three bachelors and their huge dog living in it. Sure there were dishes in the sink but dishes are a care chore that never ended. There was very little clutter that you saw but you also weren't paying close attention since you were just helping bring in groceries and not here for a visit. It would be rude to look, you think.

Once all of the boys' bags were brought in and either on the counter or table you saw a majority of them had blood smears all on the handles. Fucking Toby, you gave him band-aids for a reason.

“Tobais you're bleeding.”

“Thanks Captain obvious.” you want to smack him.

“Do you guys have a first aid kit?”

“Nope.” he sounds so smug when he pops the 'p' sound.

“Ok, then I'll go get the band-aids out of my car and you wash your hands.”

“Don'-uwu- Don't worry about it.”

You have to bite your lip so you don't laugh but the small stream of air coming from your nose let Toby know you were laughing. Despite his mask you can see his pout clearly when he turns to you.

“I...I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't...but it's too,” your giggling is breaking down your ability to speak, “cute.”

The grumpy face sort of melts off of the boy in front of you, but you can tell by the vibes he's still touchy. You try to calm yourself but quickly realize you aren't giggling anymore because of his tic.

“C'mon it isn't even that funny.” he says gruffly, before looking off to the side.

“No...it's,” you keep shaking your head as the movement doesn't stop. The loop won't stop and you're starting to tear up from the muscles in your abdomen seizing up then relaxing in repetition.

Toby seems to realize what's happened.

“No fucking way.” is all he says as he comes closer to your still giggling form. “A giggling tic?” You can only nod, you're starting to get light headed. Toby noticing you starting to crouch down, helps ease you to sit. He stays by your side as you both wait for the tic to cease.

He even tries rubbing a hand on your back to soothe you into calming down. You'll need to tell him physical comfort doesn't really help you. It's still sweet of him to try.

Unlike a laughing fit that will have a gradual die down of the action, your laughing tic has an abrupt stop. But you feel just as tired and even more sick than someone who just got out of a laughing fit. Breath coming out hitched though you try to gasp in more air to soothe your impending headache. Your face is red and covered in tear stains, once again you are thankful for your mask. This isn't a tic you get often but you probably hate this one the most, just from how drained it leaves you.

Toby continues to rub circles into your back as your breathing starts to even. Eventually he gets up to grab you some water. You notice it's quiet in the RV, not even Connor is around Brian must have him today.

“That was probably karma.” he says as he hands you the glass. Looking up to him confused he continues, “For teasing me about my tic.”

“But I w-wa-,” you take a large gulp of water for the raspiness of your voice, “I wasn't teasing. I just thought 'uwu' was a cute vocal tic.” you say indignantly.

Really you had only thought the verbal tic was cute. Also it'd been a while since you heard 'uwu' said aloud so it caught you off guard.

“Not as cute as a giggling tic.” who's teasing who now.

“Haha, don't get used to it doesn't happen often.”

After settling down from you tic it's time to head home. You really don't want to over stay your welcome. The fatigue is also starting to set in and you want to get home before it really hits.

Toby is nothing if not a gentleman you've noticed. And he continues to be on brand as he walks you back to your car.

“So thanks for that.” vaguely motioning as if to say 'y'know' with your hands rather than your words. Toby knows, you can tell from that boyish glint in his eyes.

“Hope to see you tomorrow night.” you say getting back into your car.

“It's sounding better now.” there's a pause, “Get home safe.” he slaps the interior of your window before backing away from your car altogether.

With a final wave you back out back onto the old dirt road and drive on home. When you get home you realize you never patched up Toby's hand, now you have a small bloodstain on your door.

[trashboiiz]

Self Conscious  (Aleks x Reader)

(A/N: ANGST BOIS)

The end of the summer was drawing closer each day. It's not like LA really had a fall or an extreme drop in temperature like the Northeast, but the ocean and air would get too cold for comfort. Even so, after a certain period it always felt weird swimming and doing normal summer things since shops switch to their Christmas decorations at the end of September, which made no sense to you.

Throughout the summer you and the rest of the CowChop crew have spent countless days on the beach, sometimes filming for a video, sometimes relaxing, sometimes just being dumb. You always had fun going to the beach with them, even if you didn’t feel like swimming or being in the heat, you loved the change of scenery and seeing the joy on everyone else's face, especially your boyfriend Aleks. Since summer was about to be over everyone at CowChop decided to have one last beach adventure filled with food friends and of course alcohol. Better yet, the weather was going to be perfect, hot and sunny without a cloud in the sky. You are eagerly looking forward to the weekend, one last day of soaking in the sun and watching James almost drown Trevor in the ocean; those were the days you lived for.

It was Thursday, only two days before the big beach extravaganza. Everyone was excited at work; Trevor, Asher, and Jakob wouldn’t shut up about the water guns they recently bought, Joe asked everyone what food they were bringing, Lindsey reminded everyone to bring sunscreen, Anna was making a list of supplies, James was making sure his Bubba was in tip-top shape, and Brett said he’d kill anyone who tries to prank him. You were eager like everyone else, but whenever you brought up the topic to Aleks he always tried to change the subject.

“Do you want me to buy anything for you, Aleks?” you ask, rolling your chair over to him, “like some new board shorts or fun beach things?”

“No I’m good. Did you finish editing your video” his eyes glued to his screen.

“I, uh, no I’m still working on it”.

“You should go finish that, we have a lot of stuff to do today”.

“Um, yea ok”.

You return to your desk, confused by Aleks’ coldness. He was more standoffish, annoyed by the slightest thing. He was different.

After work you and Aleks drive home in an awkward silence. He looks less angry now, but more worried. What is stress? You all finished a lot of work today so tomorrow was going to be light. He doesn’t have any future big events coming up either, so that’s probably not it. You glance over at him and see him frowning, a defeated look on his face. Something was wrong.

Once you arrive home, Aleks goes directly into his office and shuts the door, not coming out for anything, even dinner. You eat alone in bed, scrolling through your phone and petting Mishka next to you.

“Y/N, I was thinking that we shouldn’t go to the beach the weekend”

You look up from your phone to see Aleks standing in the bedroom doorway, wringing his hands.

“What?”

“It’ll be too hot and I don’t want to get sunburnt again, ya know?”

You put your phone down and stare at Aleks.

“But we already bought everything for the beach. And it’ll be a lot of fun, all your friends are gonna be there. It’s a little Cow Chop bonding.”

“I don’t think we should go”.

“Aleks,” you pat the area next to you, “what’s actually wrong”.

He walks over to the side of the bed next to you and sits down, not making eye contact.

“It’s dumb, it’s nothing” He mumbles.

“Aleks, you can tell me anything”

“It’s just” he sighs, “I don’t wanna take my shirt off”.

You look at him quizzically, “What? Why?”

“Y/N…” Aleks whines, “Don’t make me say it”.

“Aleks I literally have no fucking idea what the problem is”.

“Look at me!” He throws his arms open, “I’m so fucking gross now, gross and fat”.

You sit up and look at Aleks, tears building up. You can tell he’s trying to hold them in, but it’s difficult, too difficult. One tear falls, then it’s a cascade. He covers his face with his hand in an effort to hide his sadness, but the tears slip between his fingers. You scootch over and pull him into your arms so that he’s buried into your clothes.

“It’s so stupid, I know I’m being stupid, but I just feel so gross. Look at this, I’m a fucking whale”.

“No, Aleks,” you coo, “you’re not a whale. Yes, you may have gained some weight after moving to LA but you don’t look bad. You’re still beautiful, hot, whatever word you want to use”.

“Y/N, please” he stifles a sob, “you don’t need to lie to me”.

“Bullshit. I’m not lying. You’re gorgeous. You’re the same beautiful man I fell in love with with the same cute grin and big heart. You’re not always going to be a 20 year old twink with boney arms and legs. To be honest, I’m happy you have some padding now. You’re bones fucking hurt”.

Aleks laughs softly, face still pressed against you.

“People just keep pointing it out and it makes me feel like shit”

“I know, I know. Some of them don’t mean it in a negative way but others a dicks. You just need to ignore them and realize that you have a bunch of people that love you. I love you.”

You lean over and kiss the top of Aleks’ head, causing him to look up at you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fucking cry”.

“Aleks shut up. You can cry all you want”.

He chuckles and you kiss his cheek.

“Love you, Aleks”.

“Love you too, Y/N”.

[andyangus]

Saturday 30th January

3.30 a.m. (The latest I’ve been up in years!) I sat in Starbucks as nervous as a prostitute at confession while attempting to sip my caramel macchiato as indifferently as I could. The place was bustling with tourists who seem to have been unaffected by the global downturn as they continually dripped coins into the ravenous till. Ryan was half an hour late (traditional), so I managed to work my way from an uncomfortable wooden chair to a nice, soft and fluffy couch as people vacated. I sank into the well-ridden cushion with smug satisfaction and admired the view. Edinburgh Castle hadn’t lost her beauty.

I was feeling the effects of the caffeine and becoming quite sentimental when Ryan swept in with the energy of an excited teen. His long, hairy, green and brown overcoat swept open from the speed of his entrance. He recognised me immediately and waved, beaming a Hollywood smile that would outshine any showgirl. Sadly, Tony (a.k.a. ‘Biffo’, the derogatory name given to him justifiably by harsh queens on the scene) was in tow. I stopped slouching and tensed up my stomach in a vain attempt to engage my rarely used abs.

Ryan’s hardly changed. He has no grey flecks, unlike me, and seems to have been living in Tupperware for the past decade as there’s not a crease on any part of his well-presented façade. I’d go so far as to say he looks youthful. You’d hope, after losing a boyfriend, the stress of it all would mean you’d instantly burn all that unnecessary fat, but no, my body screams for comfort food, slowly topping up the levels like a barrel attached to a drainpipe.

Ryan yelped in excitement and hugged me like a long-lost brother. ‘Andy, you look amazing!’ he said and then paused expectantly for a compliment in return.

I shushed him bashfully and said, ‘No way, but you do.’

‘I know I do,’ said my confident friend.

I neglected to compliment Tony as I just can’t lie convincingly. He’s spray-tanned so much he’s on the verge of becoming a fat satsuma. However, as we were throwing hugs around, I was obligated to give him one too, but as half-hearted as I could possibly make it (hugging Biffo is akin to embracing a turd in a wig).

I immediately wanted to trade that hug for a slap the second Tony pulled back, gawped at my face and cried, ‘Goodness, life has been rough on you, my dear. Haven’t you collected a lot of wrinkles!’ and laughed as shrill as a mad banshee.

I countermanded by saying, ‘Wrinkles? No, they’re the trademark Angus laughter lines.’

Whereupon Tony sniggered and threw another verbal grenade, ‘Well, what a family of comedians you must be.’

Cue fixed grin and stunned silence on my part.

I visualised dropkicking him through that bay window until his mangled body was tangled in the castle’s craggy rocks, but I knew this wouldn’t be a great start to rekindling a relationship I’d let slide a long time ago. Even if one of the reasons I’d let it slip was still very much the monkey on Ryan’s back. A monkey that will be backbreaking to carry as Tony has gained several pounds and is struggling to fit into his Fat Face jeans. His thinning brown hair, jug-ears, snooty nose and jutting incisors certainly fit his insulting nickname Biffo the Bear. And his lips ... I don’t remember them being that big. Collagen injections, by the look of it.

‘Moving on,’ I said. ‘Coffee?’

‘Oh, not here, cupcake. I can’t abide coffee beans that have been raped by a multimillion tax-dodging company,’ said Ryan. ‘I hope nobody saw us come in, Tony. Well, nobody that counts. We know a delightful independent place on Broughton Street that you’ll adore. Cosy and they do the best tasting Americano this side of the country. I hope no one sees us leave, either.’ He turned to a busy server filling a large tray with sloppy cups and sticky plates and asked, ‘Is there a fire escape we can use?’

‘The owner can be a bit of a cow, though,’ interrupted Tony, tartly.

I was sold. Anyone who’s a cow to Tony is a friend of mine. A bit of a walk, but I figured my potbelly and bashed ego needed a stroll. ‘Let’s go then,’ I insisted.

‘Oh, hang on,’ said Ryan, whipping out his mobile. ‘A quick celebratory selfie. Stand over there away from the branding. I won’t be tagging our location.’ The boys struck a well-rehearsed pose as he snapped the picture before I’d the chance to focus. I was gawping, my eyes half shut and I noticed a coffee drip on my shirt. It was online quicker than the time it takes to drink one shot of espresso. We left via the fire exit.

******

Café Jamaica, a slither of a place that you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it, is green and black on the shop front with swirly yellow flower power style lettering above the door. Cavernous inside, it gets more extensive the deeper you delve, opening out to an ample space at the rear. On the far wall, beyond a decorative fireplace, sits an intimate stage flanked with purple felt curtains. An eclectic mix of local art hangs on the walls, from picturesque scenes of Edinburgh to the abstract brushstrokes of an aggressive mind. Rainbow coloured paper lanterns hang from the ceiling, softly lighting the chilled ambience, enhanced by grand ornate mirrors dotted around the area. The whole café has a feel of homely, lived-in chaos. Not a single table or chair match in colour or style. Nag champa snaked lethargically through the space and Nina Simone’s voice echoed from somewhere deep within the shadows. It felt reassuringly geek-friendly.

As I squished comfortably into a sofa, a tall, slender, middle-aged black woman with a tower of thickly piled hair emerged from the back of the café and made her way towards us as she flirtatiously dipped into the depths of her ample bosom to remove a small notepad and pen from its clutches. Her hourglass figure was tightly caressed by a green dress that groped her in all the right places and caused her breasts to spill forward like two large, shiny chestnuts. She oozed sexual confidence. Phenomenal. If it weren’t for her sincere smile and gentle Jamaican accent, I would’ve felt intimidated.

‘Ryan, you old hound. So good to see you, what can I get you?’ she grinned. ‘And I see you’ve brought a handsome young man with you,’ she said, nodding to me and ignoring Tony. I warmed to her more.

‘This is my good friend from the West, Andy,’ said Ryan, which melted my heart instantaneously as it became apparent all those years I’d neglected our friendship seemed to bother him not one jot.

‘Andy?’ She smiled wider, ‘Andy, who?’

‘Andy Angus,’ I added, hand stretched to shake hers.

‘Oh, Andy,’ she muttered as her eyes glinted in the lamplight and gazed deep into mine. Well-manicured scarlet nails flickered as she cupped my hand in both of hers and shook it intensely, ‘It’s so good to meet such a fine, handsome, mature man.’ She raised her head proudly and announced, ‘I’m Miss Molasses Brown, queen of this fabulous establishment, where all friends, freaks and lost souls are welcome to linger.’ It felt as if I’d known her for years, such was her warmth.

‘Drinks!’ she shouted, ‘Mojitos on the house, for my dear friends. Back in three shakes.’

‘We should take you out more often,’ said Tony, glaring at Molasses as she wiggled away, ‘the old hag has never given us so much as a free after-dinner mint.’

‘Oh! Selfie!’ said Ryan, mobile at the ready.

Goggle-eyed, I said, ‘Really? But we’ve only just taken one twenty min …’

Snap and post!

We sampled delicious home-cooked recipes that blew my mind, several non-alcoholic cocktails and Molasses’s very own Rum Truffle Cake. A sober evening for me, but a most enjoyable one. We talked about their wedding, and I brushed over my defunct relationship with Thomas briefly. I imagine Tony was keen to perform a detailed autopsy, but I preoccupied the evening with them. Ryan is a window dresser for Jenners and Tony works in a G.P. surgery as a receptionist. They still live at their old flat on Leith Street, but now, instead of renting, they own it. I got most of this information from a very animated Tony. Ryan was hardly given room to breathe, so I was relieved when an early start pulled Tony out of the door around midnight. Even if I had to witness repeated, heavy petting for the next ten minutes until Ryan loosened his leash and the door shut on his saggy arse.

I could relax for the first time all evening. With Biffo gone, we were free to chat over old times, when I lived just a stone’s throw away from Ryan on London Road. Life seemed more relaxed and less complicated. I had more of the pink pound in my pocket, and the scene was new, exciting and risky. He talked about some of the older queens still doing the rounds, the ones who’d since moved on (or worse, died), and the colourful new characters he’s met since I left.

Then he asked, ‘Do you ever think of Steve?’

My heart suddenly ached. I shared the flat on London Road with Steve. He was older than us, experienced, wealthy, butch and bitchy, cheeky and damn handsome. He’d say, ‘When you hit forty, boys, there is a certain clientele that finds you fascinating. Twinks don’t turn my head, but I seem to turn theirs, and if the chap is on the right side of his twenties, then I’m willing to entertain the notion for nothing more than a night. Anything more than that is some form of relationship, and that is definitely not my china cup of tea. What would I want with a twink, anyway? They haven’t lived. They use moisturiser, for fuck’s sake, bathe in aftershave and have no idea how to fix a stop-cock. I just want a real man to rodger and take the bin bag out in the morning, is that asking for the world?’ Riotous laughter would follow, and others would turn their heads towards our usual corner of the bar. We must’ve looked like witches around a cauldron, but we were having a blast.

How could Ryan dare to bring him up? Steve was taboo. Our gang fell to pieces after he died – forty-four and cold on a slab looking a shadow of his former self. His good looks eaten away. Such a jovial, glorious mind ruined by something that could’ve been, should’ve been, treated sooner.

I hesitated some and said, ‘I think of him every day. I still blame myself; after all these years, I still do. I knew he wasn’t right. Six weeks later, he was gone. No more Friday night drinks that turned into Saturday morning breakfasts. Gone was that shameless smile, those playful moves on the dance floor and that gorgeous set of blue eyes that excused him no matter how bitchy he became.’

Ryan nodded, ‘He could charm the Crown Jewels off the Queen.’

That rock that we had clung to was now far away in the middle of a foreboding sea that could never be crossed. At least, not in this lifetime. This marked the beginning of our separation. We met through Steve, and we only knew how to function around Steve. So we clung to new rocks as quickly as we could and lost sight of each other behind the solidity of what we’d found. His funeral came fast and left us with little time to think. And before we knew it, we were toasting the man and, with a tear in our eyes and dregs in our glasses, it was time to move on. And boy, move on we did. Swiftly. Ryan to Tony, and me to Thomas. But even tonight, after all that water has flown under all those bridges, the events leading up to why we lost touch hurt.

‘Not your fault,’ consoled Ryan with a hand clasping mine. ‘Hell, I would’ve told him to shut up with his moaning, but then, I’ve never had much patience with the sick.’

‘I remember,’ I jibed. ‘When I snapped a tendon falling off the stage at Vibe, you quickly asked me to leave as I was embarrassing you. I limped towards the exit, and you continued to dance as if nothing was wrong.’

‘Oh, dear. Did I? I’m sorry about that. I must’ve been on something.’

I laughed. ‘You were on everything back then!’

Ryan chuckled, ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. I don’t nowadays. Too old to deal with the comedowns. And who wants to have the teeth of a medieval pauper? I miss him,’ he said with his smile gone and his eyes glistening, ‘and I miss you too.’

It felt so good to be wanted again. Wanted by him. I squeezed his hand tight and told him what I should’ve told him a long time ago, ‘I miss you too. I’ve always missed you.’ It was good to feel as if someone cared once again. I didn’t want to lose that moment. God, I really have missed him. How could I have been so stupid?

‘Are the two of you hypnotised or something?’ came a familiar Jamaican accent. ‘Anyone would think you kids were in love.’

This snapped us out of our bubble.

‘Don’t be daft,’ I spluttered between breathy laughs.

As the doors to Café Jamaica were locked behind us, we wandered along the cobbles reflecting the streetlights’ pale yellow glow. Arriving at my car, we said a reluctant farewell. Ryan hugged me tightly. It was great to be close to his beating heart once more.

‘It’s fabulous to have you back in my life, my friend,’ were his parting words.

As I drove along Gorgie Road, I realised I’d finally found an old piece of me that has been forgotten, buried beneath the chaff of domesticity for far too long. Maybe, just maybe, it is possible to go back in time and start over.

The twenty-five-year-old Andy inside me had woken. He yawned and blinked at the moon as it hung large and low before me on the drive to Mum and Dad’s. I could see the silhouette of Edinburgh’s skyline in my rearview mirror, and even though I was heading in the opposite direction, Ryan, Steve and my twenty-five-year-old self were travelling alongside me and having a whale of a time.

4.35 p.m. It’s Dad’s retirement do tonight, and I’m feeling more than a little tired from my late night.