Rhapsody on a Theme

Chapter 3-2

By lunchtime, the house had gone into hectic mode.

Rosie had been parked with Uncle Andy—her favourite, largely because he was so terrified of dropping her or making her cry (children frightened Jayden’s perpetual bachelor of an uncle) that he let her get away with murder—in front of the Christmas film, and Darren had retreated back to Jayden’s room at twelve to talk to Scott on Skype. Jayden had been put to work peeling potatoes in the kitchen with Mum, while Dad and Aunt Lisa bitched at the table about Aunt Lisa’s latest ex-boyfriend.

Jayden didn’t typically like Christmas—too busy, too noisy, too chaotic, and still strange without Nana—but this Christmas was…fine. Better than, really. Darren was okay, and they were home, and not to sound totally cheesy and, well, gay, but the future was looking good. Darren would be home as of tomorrow, proper home in Cosham with Jayden, and they would get back to the life they’d been sorting out when he’d been sent to London, and they could start working on making it even better. Maybe perfect.

If this was what being grown up was about, then Jayden was kind of okay with this part.

Darren reappeared at around half twelve, sliding his arms around Jayden’s waist in a hug and propping his chin on Jayden’s shoulder to peer at the potatoes. “Are they going to be mashed?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Jayden said, squeezing his elbow against one of Darren’s arms. “How was Scott?”

“Typical.”

“Oh?”

“He’s shaved his head, broken his leg, lost his passport, and got dumped by his girlfriend.”

“Oh God.”

“Yep.”

“Isn’t this the girlfriend he was briefly engaged to a few years ago?”

“Mhmm.”

“…Why doesn’t he give up?”

“You know Scott,” Darren said and kissed Jayden’s ear. “Can I have your carrots when you give up on them and stop pretending you’re eating healthily on Christmas Day?”

“You’re like a dustbin, seriously,” Jayden complained, but softened when Darren hummed against his jaw. “Fine. I don’t know where you put it, though; seriously, are you hollow?”

“You’d know.”

“Why don’t you just have two lunches?” Jayden asked tartly, and Darren squeezed tightly until he lost his voice.

“Then you’d call me fat, like always.”

“You should be fat.”

“Jayden!” Mum scolded.

“When the kid’s right, he’s right,” Dad opined, and Aunt Lisa laughed. Darren smiled against the back of Jayden’s shoulder and let go.

“Fine,” he said. “I’m going to corrupt Rosie. At least someone loves me in this house.”

“Only because you buy her sweets,” Jayden said.

“Hey, love’s love,” Darren threw over his shoulder; Jayden huffed, shaking his head, and Mum laughed.

“Oh, go on then,” she said fondly, taking the sieve from him, and he rinsed his hands before nipping out of the kitchen in Darren’s wake and catching him with damp fingers at the living room door.

“Oh no you don’t,” he murmured, reeling Darren in for a long kiss against the wall, wrapping those wet fingers into wild hair. For a brief second, he felt sixteen again, like they were kissing in the shadows with everyone unaware of what they really were, and a little thrill spiralled down his spine.

“Mm, is this supposed to be a punishment?” Darren asked, his voice a deep purr of contentment when Jayden let him breathe, and Jayden chuckled quietly.

“A warning,” he hedged. “You’re getting cheeky.”

“You like me that way.”

“Mm, but you can’t think you’ll get away with it every time.”

“Yeah, this is really discouraging,” Darren snarked, and Jayden kissed him again, short and sharp. “How about this for an offer?” Darren murmured lowly in his ear, twisting long fingers into Jayden’s shirt to keep him close. “You, me, your room, you on the bed, me on my knees. Haven’t done that in a little while.”

“It’s kind of hard with you in London and me in Portsmouth.”

“Hard’s definitely the right word…”

Jayden laughed, sliding his hands to Darren’s hips and pushing his own forward slightly. “Mm, it is,” he agreed lightly, and smiled. “We’ll have to be quick.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m not going for a record here,” Darren said, and Jayden laughed, taking his hand and pulling him towards the stairs.

“I don’t know why I love you,” he stated as they padded up them, expertly avoiding the creaks and trying not to be heard.

“Yeah, you do,” Darren parried, and Jayden curled his toes lightly in his socks. Because he did—and it was nothing to do with Christmas, really, or anything else.

It was just Darren.