What Remains (6 page)

“I don’t like
The Last Samurai
.” Jodi crawled onto the bed in a pair of worn tracksuit bottoms and stretched out on his stomach to peer at Rupert’s selection. “Tom Cruise is a dick.”

“I know. It’s a shame. The film would be awesome without him. What about
Gladiator
? I’ve never seen it all the way through.”

Jodi nodded. “Russell Crowe and Djimon Hounsou? Sold.”

Rupert slipped the disk into the DVD player, then joined Jodi on the bed. In spite of his hesitance earlier, he seemed at ease now, and Jodi was glad of it. Seeing Rupert mirror the contentment in his own soul was beautiful. Like Rupert.

Jodi scooted back and held up the duvet. “Get in, mate. I don’t bite.”

“Never mind, eh?” Rupert smirked, warm and wonderful.

They wriggled under the covers. Jodi turned off the lamp, and the TV came to life, bathing the room in blue light. He lay back. Rupert did the same, and it felt so familiar Jodi almost cried. Huh. Perhaps it was
him
who’d been craving the company of a man—real company . . . companionship, not just a bedmate to roll around with, then kick to the kerb before the sun rose.

The film opened with the Germanic battle scene. Rupert rolled onto his side, facing Jodi. “I’ve seen this bit, and the end. It’s the middle I keep missing. I’ve never quite worked out how Maximus gets to Rome.”

Jodi mirrored Rupert. “The buildup to that is the best part. It’s all a bit melodramatic after he takes his mask off.”

Rupert looked mystified. Jodi made a mental note to divert his attention back to the film by the time Maximus was bought by Proximo. He opened his mouth to ask Rupert what he wanted for breakfast in the morning, but Rupert’s hand on his face silenced him. The touch was light, just his palm on Jodi’s cheek, but Jodi was mesmerised.

“Thanks for this.” Rupert smiled shyly, like he had no idea of the effect he was having on Jodi. “It sounds strange, but being with you makes me feel so much better about myself, about everything. I feel normal.”

Most folk would probably reckon there was nothing normal about spending the night in the bed of a man you hardly knew, but it made sense to Jodi. “I’m glad you’re comfortable here. For what it’s worth, I don’t find you strange at all.”

Rupert dragged his palm softly down Jodi’s cheek, brushing his scruffy jaw with his fingertips. He hesitated at Jodi’s neck, before continuing his gentle exploration, drawing invisible pictures on Jodi’s bare chest.

Jodi sucked in a subtle breath. The sensation of Rupert’s fingers was maddening, reminding him how caught he was between his charged attraction to Rupert, and the very real desire to be his friend. Dressed and drinking on the couch, the distinction had been clear, but huddled up in bed, face-to-face, toes touching, it was hard to ignore the urge to put his lips on Rupert.

It turned out not to matter, because, as had become their routine, Rupert kissed him first. The kiss was gentle and sweet, a brush of a kiss like the ghost of a feather. A ghost that sent Jodi reeling, had him gasping for air and desperate for more. He let Rupert draw him closer, and they kissed again, harder this time, reigniting the fervour of the night they’d met, but instead of the crazy heat of before, a slow, smouldering burn began, like they both knew there was no need to rush, that they had all the time in the world to stoke this fire.

Rupert pushed his tongue into Jodi’s mouth, teasing and dancing, like a cat with a string, and
nothing
like a man who was new to the art of snogging blokes. He put his hands on Jodi’s chest, palms flat at first, until his devilish fingers went to work on Jodi’s nipples.

Jodi broke away with a low groan. “Fuck yeah. I like that.”

“Yeah? I’m not hurting you?”

“You are, but I like it. Do it harder.”

“Like this?”

“More.”

Rupert tightened his grip, twisting until the stinging pain became almost too pleasurable to bear. He watched Jodi gasp and writhe with a curious gaze. Jodi took the hint and returned the favour, lightly, testing the waters.

But there was no need for caution. Rupert’s eyes rolled the moment Jodi pinched the sensitive flesh, and his gravelly moan went straight to Jodi’s cock. “God, I see what you mean.”

“Good, eh?” Jodi squeezed a little harder, studying every facet of expression on Rupert’s beautiful face. “It goes well with a fuck-hot blowjob too.”

Rupert smiled wryly. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Don’t think on it too much. You’ll drive yourself mad, second-guessing yourself.”

“You sound like my mate Briggs at the station. Only fella who doesn’t think I’m after his nuts. Total pisshead, but salt of the earth. He keeps telling me to go get a fucking shag and be done with it.”

Jodi chuckled. “He’s kinda right, though it’s better with someone you’ve got some kind of bond with. This life gets lonely, sometimes, you know? Sex is easy to come by, but it’s hard to make it mean something.”

“Does this mean something?” Rupert stilled Jodi’s twisting fingers and entwined their hands. “To you? Or do you feel sorry for me?”

“I don’t feel sorry for you. I’d shag you in a heartbeat, but to be honest, mate, tonight, I just want to put my arms around you.”

Rupert squeezed Jodi’s hand. “I’d like that.”

October 26, 2014

“I brought your iPod from home today. It’s got a full battery, and I downloaded that Blur album you thought you’d lost.” Rupert waited for a response, but as usual, there was none. Jodi stared blankly for a moment, before his gaze drifted back to the TV, the only thing that seemed to hold his attention for any length of time.

Rupert sighed and dropped the iPod on the table with a clatter, letting his frustration get the better of him for a moment. Jodi had been “awake” for a month now, but he’d yet to utter a word, or focus on the world around him with any real cognisance. He obeyed commands—sit up, hold this, rest your head—but his actions were robotic, like he’d been preprogrammed before the accident to come back and subject Rupert to the world’s cruellest trick.

“Rupert?”

Rupert glanced around. Sophie hovered by the curtain rail, biting her lip. Rupert schooled his features and raised a half smile from the pit of his stomach, beckoning her forward. Sophie had found it even harder than him to reconcile herself with what remained of the eccentric, witty man she’d called her best friend. Some days, it was all Rupert could do to persuade her to hold his hand.

“But he’s so cold, Rupert.”

“
Then help me warm him up.”

Sophie touched his arm. “Sorry, Rupe. Have I come at a bad time?”

Rupe. Only Jodi called him that. Rupert’s slowly crumbling heart fractured again. For months, he’d believed he wanted nothing more than for Jodi to be awake and alive, but fuck, it wasn’t enough. It was nowhere near enough, and Rupert couldn’t bear it.

“Rupert?”

Rupert stared at Sophie’s pretty blue eyes and flaxen curls. At her kind smile and honest gaze. It was easy to see why Jodi had loved her for so long, and why he continued to love her, long after their relationship had come to an amicable end. “Yeah?”

“Have you eaten today?”

“Erm . . .” He honestly couldn’t remember. His days had fallen into a routine of working, sleeping, and sitting at Jodi’s bedside while Jodi fixated on the TV.

Sylvester, the physical therapist who coaxed Jodi from the bed three times a day, teaching him to stand and walk again, appeared around the curtain. “Evening, Jodi. Are you ready to go back to bed and do some work on your arm?”

Jodi held out his hands without looking at Sylvester, even when Sylvester took them to help him stand.

Rupert had to turn away. Watching Jodi struggle to perform such simple tasks was too much on the best of days, but today it hurt more than ever.

Sophie tugged his arm. “Come on. You need a dirty burger.”

Rupert let her drag him across the street to the dodgiest McDonald’s in South London. She parked him at a sticky table and went to the counter. She returned with four Big Macs and enough nuggets to feed an engine crew.

“Eat.” She stuck a straw in a large milkshake and slid it across the table. “I don’t care how much, just humour me, yeah?”

Rupert knew better than to argue. Sophie reminded him of his long-dead gran back in Dublin—gentle, sweet, and thoroughly terrifying. He picked up a burger and peeled away the greasy paper, swallowing his apprehension as the scent of fat and spooky processed meat invaded his senses. The first bite tasted far better than it should have. He took another, and another, until the burger was gone.

Sophie passed him a second and the stern worry in her gaze faded a touch. “Should we get something for Jodi?”

Rupert shook his head. “They’re still weaning him on soup and toast, not that he’s eating much. I don’t think he understands why he has to.”

“Or maybe he does, and he can’t make his body do what they’re asking him to do?”

Pain lanced Rupert’s heart. Though Jodi’s gaze had remained hollow since he’d opened his eyes, the thought of the real Jodi—the Jodi from before—trapped behind that blank stare, haunted Rupert every moment he wasn’t worrying that Jodi still might die. “I don’t know . . . I don’t know anything about anything. Just gotta take each day at a time, eh? Trust him to get better.”

Sophie said nothing for a moment, her expression distant. “What’s going to happen to him, Rupe? If he doesn’t get better? How are we going to look after him?”

The junk food in Rupert’s mouth turned to dust. The answer to Sophie’s bleak question was complicated; Jodi’s physical recovery was slow, but tangible. Despite Rupert’s pessimism, there was no denying the daily improvements—improvements that left Jodi’s damaged brain far behind. What would happen if he became too well for the hospital, but too vulnerable to come home?

Rupert squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t believed there could be anything worse than what they’d lived—
ha
—through already, but that would be a whole new nightmare, and his grotty dinner had long gone cold by the time he found the words to answer Sophie. He opened his eyes and glared at her like
she
was the one who’d mowed Jodi down with a stolen car. “I’m taking him home. Whatever happens, he’s coming home with me.”

March 26, 2010

Jodi did put his arms around Rupert that first night, and the one after, and it wasn’t long before they fell into a comfortable routine. Rupert stayed over three or four nights a week, sometimes more, and, eventually, Jodi found himself unable to sleep when Rupert went home to his bedsit.

One morning, a few weeks after their bar date, Jodi awoke just before dawn to find him still sleeping. He rolled over and studied his companion, stretched out on his front, naked, because they’d ditched their clothes the night before and slept bare and open, facing each other, hardly daring to touch. Rupert’s body had seemed perfect in the darkness, his pale skin flawless in the shadows, but now, with the sun rising through the blinds they’d forgotten to close, Jodi saw that what he’d glimpsed the night before hadn’t done Rupert justice. Jesus fucking Christ, the bloke was beautiful. Skin, muscle, and bone, all melded together with a wry, warm innocence that made Jodi’s heart ache.

“Stop staring. You’ll give me a complex.”

Jodi came back to earth to find Rupert wide-awake and grinning. “Caught me, eh? Sorry, can’t help it. You’re too cute.”

“Cute?” Rupert pulled a face that made him look like a young boy. “That wasn’t the effect I was hoping for, lying here in my birthday suit.”

“You don’t want to know the effect your birthday suit is having on me.”

“Wouldn’t bet on that, mate.”

“That right?” Jodi leaned in and kissed Rupert full on the lips, letting Rupert’s strong arms engulf him in the embrace he’d come to crave when Rupert wasn’t around. The kiss deepened, and it wasn’t long before they were pressed together and gasping for breath, the point where Jodi usually put the brakes on, mindful of pushing Rupert too hard and too fast.

The wait for Rupert to make the next move had seemed endless, but Jodi forgot all about it as Rupert took Jodi’s cock in his hand and brushed his thumb along the length, his lips still fused to Jodi’s. Jodi jumped and let out a strangled groan, breaking their kiss. “Bloody hell. Do that again.”