Finding Home Box Set

Chapter 1: Cute Guys and Open Relationships

Chapter 1: Cute Guys and Open RelationshipsOswald Sattle gazed out the windscreen of his Toyota Camry—a sorry sight. Both the car and the view. How fitting.

Cracks melted into a spider web on the asphalt before him, the tenement houses to his left were a soulless grey, and the shop in the bottom floor of the last house in the row made him long to turn the key and keep on going. He should keep going. Why he’d come here, he didn’t know.

The morning was damp and dull, the leaves in the process of turning orange, and Oswald had been fighting to breathe for two hundred and seventy-three days.

Two hundred and seventy-three days ago Oswald had been the happiest he’d ever been, happier than he’d ever expected to be…and now he was here. In Nortown.

In one second, everything had changed. One slow tick of the clock had been the starting shot for people to squirm in the benches, then the buzz of their whispers rose in the church. Oswald had walked into the room where Guy was getting ready before the ceremony, and there Matt Herman had been on his knees with Guy’s c**k buried in his throat.

Oswald’s world had crumpled. His fiancé had cheated on him on their wedding day, and with Matt. Matt was sweet and kind, and Oswald had always considered him a friend. Worst of all was that Matt had smiled at him, Guy had sighed, and all the while Oswald was dying.

Humiliation painted his face as he sank into the memory. In the church, Guy had cheated on him in the church.

He forced down another breath. As long as he could get some oxygen into his system, he could keep going. There was no need to think of hopes and wants—all that mattered was to fill his lungs with air and stay upright. He didn’t need anyone to tell him things would turn out fine, that he was still young and would find someone new—he wasn’t all that young and as for finding someone…There had never been anyone but Guy. No one had ever wanted him before Guy. If he’d ever wanted him.

It didn’t matter much. He didn’t have anyone but Guy, not that he’d ever really had him. Apparently.

He tapped his forefinger seven times against the steering wheel and looked at the clock on the dashboard. Aiden would be here soon. He glanced at the sign above the door to the massage studio next to the rundown motorway café—could he work there? He couldn’t breathe.

No!

He couldn’t stay here, couldn’t be around people. He had to leave, had to keep on going. He cast a glance over his shoulder. The mattress he’d squeezed into the back of the car, the pile of clothes, and a few sets of untouched acupuncture needles was all he owned.

Tapping his forefinger seven times against his knee, he filled his lungs with air. Breathing. That was the only thing he had to do. Just keep on breathing.

The key dangled in the ignition, but somehow the little leather owl keychain slipped between his fingers when he tried to grab it. His hand trembled as he tapped the steering wheel seven times, but at least the tapping calmed his heart and let some more air into his system.

The sound of a door clicking shut made him glance to the left. A man hurried out of a tenement house and crossed the street. He wore grey sweats and a black T-shirt that clung to a chiselled chest. His hair pointed in every possible direction, and he was rubbing a hand over a coppery beard as he yawned. Oswald turned away, not wanting to get caught watching anyone.

A tap on the passenger side window made him jump. f**k!

Aiden waved at him through the glass, his green eyes sparkling and his dark curls peeking out from underneath a knitted cap. Oswald forced a smile onto his lips. f*****g Aid.

Why had Aiden called him? Why couldn’t he have forgotten about him like everyone else had?

Aiden yanked the passenger door open. “Hey, man! Come on, let me buy you a cup of coffee.” He nodded towards the café, and as Oswald looked at the entrance, the man from the tenement house slipped inside. He quickly tore his gaze away from the man’s backside.

“Hi.” Oswald clenched his hand into a fist as to not tap the window before reaching for the door handle. Somehow, he made it out of the car, fingers still trapped in a fist and with both feet on the ground.

“It’s so good to see you.” Aiden wrapped his arms around Oswald before he had time to react. He already smelled of coffee, but there was also a hint of lavender.

The scent made Oswald’s eyes burn; it reminded him of another time, another life. He wasn’t the same person anymore, but he couldn’t let Aiden see that.

He needed to leave, needed to keep going, needed to find a place where no one knew him. But he was running out of money, and the nights were turning colder. He might not take much joy in living, but he didn’t want to freeze to death in his car.

“Come on.” Aiden let go of him and smiled. “I’m so freaking glad you came; you have no idea.”

“You are?” Oswald tried to keep the surprise out of his voice. When had someone ever been glad to see him? Guy had pretended to be, but—He tapped his finger seven times against his thigh.

“It’ll be great. I’m so excited that something finally will happen around here. It took forever to get hold of you. I had no idea you’d moved.”

“Yeah…” Ice filled his gut. “Guy and I…we…erm—”

“Yeah, Jason told me. I’m sorry, man.” Aiden squeezed his arm, and as usual, Oswald held his breath, but thankfully he didn’t continue with the speech of him being better off without Guy. He wasn’t, but he couldn’t have stayed with him either, not after…

“You…erm…have been in contact with Jason?”

Aiden gave him a strange look. “Of course. He’s thrilled you’re coming too, you know.”

Oswald stumbled on empty air but managed to stay upright. “Jason?”

“Yeah, sure. I told him you were on your way.”

Oswald was going to throw up. “He’s here?”

“Sure. He’s working today, so you’ll see him in a second.”

Oswald stopped. “Aiden.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t see Jason.” Hot and cold dashed around in his belly, and he was sure whatever was in it soon would climb up his throat and out onto the asphalt.

“Why not?” Aiden frowned and Oswald’s gaze fastened on the crease between his eyebrows—it was much easier than to meet his stare. “He and Guy…Guy told me he and Jason had been—”

“But Jason has been with Tom for over a year now. He hasn’t been with Guy in a long time.”

Time stopped.

“You knew?” Oswald’s gut tried to turn inside out. Aiden had known and hadn’t said anything. Saliva flooded his mouth as he started tapping his thigh. Breathe. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven. All he had to do was breathe.

“Are you okay?” Aiden touched his arm again, and Oswald held completely still, waiting for him to move away. “I have to say, I never understood it, but you seemed happy. Weren’t you happy?”

“With my fiancé f*****g my friends?”

Seconds swished by—those hated seconds. So much could change in just a tick of a clock.

“Sweetie…” Oswald winced at the word, but he reminded himself it wasn’t the first time Aiden had called him sweetie and he didn’t mean it in a patronising way…probably. Guy only ever used endearments to belittle him, but this was Aiden.

Oswald forced down more air and counted to seven as his forefinger tapped the pad of his thumb.

“You had an open relationship. If you weren’t okay with Guy being with people you knew, then you should’ve told him so. I’m sure you guys had rules, right?”

Oswald heard the words, but something about them didn’t make sense. More seconds ticked by as he tried to sort them out. “What do you mean, open relationship?”

Aiden’s eyes narrowed, the sparkle in them had died. “You weren’t monogamous. Everyone knew that.”

Oswald swallowed. For a second, he was certain he’d fallen asleep in his car and this whole conversation was a nightmare, but the almost painful grip Aiden had on his arm made him suspect it wasn’t the case.

“Ox…”

Oswald shuddered at the nickname. An ox was robust and stable. Oswald was a scraggy excuse of a man; there was nothing strong about him—nowadays even less than before.

“You were with others too, right?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but not a sound came from his lips.

Aiden’s eyes widened and he let go of his arm. “You agreed to…he was the only one who saw others?” The apprehension in his voice might have been funny if it hadn’t been Oswald’s life they were discussing.

“Agreed to what?” Oswald shouldn’t be snapping at Aiden. He didn’t think Guy had ever been with him, he hadn’t thrown Aiden’s name in his face, but how would Oswald ever know for sure? He tapped his thigh again.

“You didn’t have an agreement?” Aiden locked his fingers around his wrist as if to force himself not to touch Oswald again.

Oswald shook his head, one quick motion as he pressed his lips together from preventing any embarrassing sounds from escaping him.

“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I always assumed…everyone did, you know.”

Oswald nodded but turned towards his car. He had to get out of here.

“Morning, Aiden.” The man from the tenement house gave Aiden a nod as he passed, then he smiled at Oswald—a quick quirk of the lips. Oswald stopped mid-step and forced himself to respond in kind, though he feared it looked more like a wince than a smile.

“Joshua! This is Oswald.” Aiden gestured towards him, and the man, Joshua, stopped to look, a sparkle lit in his blue-green eyes.

“He’s gonna work with me.”

Oswald’s no was drowned out by Joshua’s “You are? Here in Nortown?”

“He is.” Aiden beamed and bounced on his feet.

“You’re a massage therapist, too?” Joshua’s eyes swept over his face as he took a sip from his to-go cup, and Oswald wanted to hide.

“Acupuncturist.”

Joshua winced. “Needles? Really?”

Oswald surprised himself by smiling. “Yeah, though I do acupressure, too.”

“Oh good, that I might be able to endure.” Joshua grinned and started walking again. “Nice to meet you, Oz. I’ll come see you when you’re up and running.”

Oswald watched him go, a bit uncertain about what had just happened.

“Just like that?” Aiden threw his hands in the air. “I’ve tried to get him to come see me for a year, and all you have to do is show up.” The smile told him Aiden was kidding, but Oswald wanted to cower anyway. “It will be great.” Aiden nudged his arm. “Do you want to see the studio now?”

“I-I was…” Oswald glanced at his car. He should leave. “Yeah, sure.”

* * * *

Joshua Roth ran up the stairs into Andre’s flat and over to the living room window where he could see Aiden lead Oswald towards the café.

“What are you doing?” Andre, his colleague and carpooling buddy, came out from the bedroom, dressed for work which meant sweats and a T-shirt. They’d change once they got to the sawmill—protective gear on at all times.

“Aiden brought a new guy.” Joshua rubbed his neck and looked as they disappeared in through the door to the studio.

Andre came to stand next to him. “A new guy?”

“Yeah, an acupuncturist. He’s gonna work here.”

“s**t, needles.” Andre shuddered, and Josh chuckled.

“That was what I said.” Joshua grabbed his bag of clothes. He’d been staying with Andre for five days, but tonight, he’d go home. Friday, finally, and he should be able to live in his own place.

His cabin had almost burned to the ground, some electrical short circuit or other in the kitchen, and it had taken some time to restore. Josh had known he needed to go over the electricity but as long as things worked, he kept pushing it into the future—he guessed he should be glad he had a future.

He could’ve died.

The last few days he’d had electricians, chimney sweepers, and plumbers stumbling over each other, so he’d fled to Andre’s. But, according to the phone call he’d received yesterday, they’d be done today. Now he just needed to fix everything up inside, but he could do that. He knew his way around a paint bucket.

“But…is he really gonna work here? Is there anyone who’d pay to get needles stuck into them?”

Josh had no idea. The guy had been ready to bolt, so maybe it didn’t matter. Rubbing his chest, he looked out the window again. There had been hurt in the guy’s eyes, not that Joshua had any plans on doing anything about it. Same as there was a pain in Andre’s eyes that he didn’t have any plans to try to soothe. He was here if Andre wanted to talk, if he wanted to get drunk and sob on his shoulder, but fix it? Nah, people needed to fix their own s**t. Josh had his life under control, and he expected everyone else to have theirs under control as well.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his friends, of course he did, and he was a good listener. He probably knew more about Andre than any other person on this planet, not that he had the first couple of years they’d rode together. Back then, they’d talked about work, the weather, and other boring s**t, but then Zachary Fane had come to town. Joshua knew he should’ve told Andre that he was gay too once Andre had come out to him, but he didn’t want people meddling in his business. Knowing what was going on in everyone’s life kept him calm, he liked being aware of what was going down, but he never told anyone. They weren’t his secrets to tell, and he didn’t want anyone spreading his secrets either. So he listened, kept quiet, and lived a good life.

Everything was great.

He grinned and glanced at Andre. “Probably not. Cute guy, though, so perhaps you should go see him.”

What Josh had been thinking when he’d said he’d come by the studio when Oswald had set it up, he didn’t know, because Aiden had been on him about coming to see him more times than he could count, and he hadn’t gone no matter how much his body ached. He didn’t mind hanging out with Andre, not at all, he loved Andre, but people often assumed you were gay if you surrounded yourself with queer friends, and he didn’t need the complication. Not that he cared what people said about him, but he liked it just fine when people assumed he was single because he hadn’t found the right woman yet. Made life easier. And coming out now was just silly—like it was catching in this godforsaken town. Nope, Joshua was fine with things being the way they were.

“You thought he was cute?” Andre raised an eyebrow.

Cute? Had he said cute? He was cute, looked like he’d slept in his car. His dishwater-blonde hair was a mess and he wore a day or two worth of stubble. Joshua turned to Andre with a blank face. “Small, a little twitchy, much like Aiden, actually. Not your type?” He knew it wasn’t. There was nothing small or twitchy about Zachary Fane and apparently, he was the only guy who could get Andre hot and bothered. Josh didn’t see the allure, but to each their own.

Andre shook his head. “Another one?”

When Josh widened his eyes, Andre sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I like Aiden just fine, but do you remember when Nortown was calm? When there were no squealing men in the café, when we didn’t have lattes, flapping hands, and bouncing curls?”

Josh chuckled. “Nope, man. I moved here four years ago, remember?”

“But even then…” Andre shrugged.

“He didn’t strike me as a squealing guy.” He seemed more like a run-and-hide kind of guy.

“I meant nothing by it. I love Aiden and what he’s done for the village.” For a second exhaustion clouded Andre’s eyes, and Joshua had to fist his hand not to reach out and touch him. Then the mask of total control slipped back into place. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure. You don’t want a cup to-go? I can run down and get one while you start the car.”

Andre frowned at him. “When have I ever wanted a cup to-go?”

Joshua shrugged and looked at the door to the massage studio one last time.