Operation Fake Relationship

“I was in the mood for a long run after having a break over Christmas.”

“Fair enough.” Nick’s gaze flitted over Jackson in a way that reminded Jackson of being naked with him. “I was thinking of getting a takeaway tonight. We haven’t got any decent food till we go shopping. What d’you reckon?”

“Yeah. Sounds good to me.”

“What do you fancy? I was leaning towards Chinese or Thai.”

“Thai would be my first choice.”

“That’s fine. I can order while you shower. I’m starving. Do you want your usual?”

“Yes please.” Jackson wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, maybe the run had dulled his appetite. But he didn’t want to keep Nick waiting.

They ate in front of the TV, which Jackson was grateful for. Sitting at the table to eat would have meant the need for conversation. He didn’t know how to talk to Nick anymore. His stomach was knotted with nerves and his palms were sweaty like a teenager’s on a first date, and it was ridiculous because he was a grown man hanging out with his best mate. It shouldn’t have been this difficult.

Jackson was a creature of habit, and he always had prawn red curry with a side of coconut rice. Thai food was his absolute favourite, and he normally ate every scrap, but tonight he picked out all the prawns—he wasn’t going to waste those—but left quite a lot of rice and sauce on his plate.

“Is that all you’re eating?” Nick asked in surprise as Jackson put his plate on the coffee table.

“Yeah.”

“Blimey. That’s not like you. Are you sick or something?”

“Nah. I’m fine. Just full.” Jackson patted his unhappy stomach. He’d never realised that lovesick was actually a thing, but his lack of appetite seemed to prove it was.

Nick hadn’t finished all his food either, but that wasn’t unusual for him. He didn’t tend to eat quite as much as Jackson, so he often kept some leftovers for the next day when they got takeaway.

Jackson looked across to find Nick was still watching him. There was a small furrow between his brows and his cheeks were flushed.

Nick cleared his throat. “Look. Um. Do you think we should talk about… what happened over Christmas?” His nervous expression didn’t give Jackson any useful clues. It could have meant anything from, It was all a huge mistake and now I feel really awkward, to I have feelings for you and I’m freaking out.

But Nick didn’t want a relationship. Hell, he’d told Jackson enough about his counselling for him to know that Nick had basically been in recovery for the past two years and was actively choosing to stay single. So even if by some miracle Nick did have feelings for Jackson he probably wasn’t happy about that, and he’d be doing his level best to resist them.

How was talking about any of that going to help? Jackson didn’t want to hear Nick make some heartfelt speech where he let him down gently. He’d never had any expectations in the first place so there was nothing to say.

“Nah.” Jackson desperately tried to keep his voice light and casual. “No need to analyse it. It was just a bit of fun, right?”

“Yeah?” Nick’s tone was doubtful. “You sure?”

“Yeah. There’s nothing to talk about. Let’s just chalk it up to experience and get back to normal. I don’t want things to be weird.”

“No. No. Me neither.” Nick’s pink cheeks clashed with his red hair. “So yeah, that’s fine. If that’s what you want, we’ll forget about it and move on. Never speak of it again.” As he mimed zipping his lips his grin was a pale shadow of its usual brightness.

“I think that’s for the best.” Now Jackson could set about gathering the shreds of his pride and pretend that his heart hadn’t been split wide open. It would knit together again eventually.

“Right, cool.”

There was a painful pause as the television wittered on in the background.

“So, what do you want to do this evening?” Nick’s voice was artificially bright, the edges too sharp and brittle to be convincing. “Fancy renting a movie or watching something on Netflix?”

“No.” Jackson desperately needed some space from Nick tonight. “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll go to bed and read. Hopefully have an early night.” He wanted to be alone to lick his wounds and process everything that had happened. The sooner he got through feeling unhappy and angry with himself, the sooner things could get back to normal.

As Nick lay in bed that night there was a strange emptiness inside him. After Jackson had disappeared into his bedroom, Nick had stayed up late and watched two films back-to-back and refused to allow himself to dwell and feel miserable. Given that it was past midnight by the time he’d come to bed, he’d hoped that he wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping.

But the peaceful solitude of his bedroom and the comfortable expanse of his king-size bed felt like loneliness tonight. He hugged his pillow close to his chest and stared into the darkness, wide awake, and wondering whether Jackson was losing sleep too.