Archive of Our Own ^beta

Playing Shostakovich at any time before seven a.m should have been illegal and yet there Eric was, frantically scanning through his music sheets and dragging the bow across the strings in a hurried manner, trying to find his usual rhythm.

Maria, the maid, watched him from the doorway with a worried look on her face. Eric would have snapped at her for not having her hair tied up into a bun whilst she prepared his breakfast but his mind was preoccupied with other things.

He hadn’t bothered to comb his hair properly and his tie was missing, somewhere in the depths of his room. He’d given his spare tie to Kate because Harry had thrown his own to his dogs for some stupid reason and it had been torn to shreds.

‘’Perhaps if John wasn't here yesterday..’’ She began, her voice already falling into a rhythm - the famous tune of I told you so that Maria loved.

He simply played louder to shut her up, striking the d strings ten times in succession, taking his eyes off of the notes and onto the wall where a portrait of Shostakovich lay. I’m sorry I can’t do you justice, he thought. He could do everything else; Wieniawski, Bach, Gershwin. But this was a step over a cliff. A completely different ball game. And instead of working on it like it deserved, instead of pouring over every note, worshipping every line, he had been lazing with John for the past couple of weeks, eating fruits and having sex- eating fruits whilst endulging in sex.

It wasn’t like John didn’t have shit to do either, he was learning a script for Macbeth but he was able to balance both. He’d give half of his mind to Eric and the other half to his passion. Eric couldn’t do the same. He gave all of his mind to John and found it hard to extract himself so easily from the boy.

Maria hated John- she swore she would never forget how the one time he had pushed past her and hadn’t apologised. ‘’He didn’t mean to.’’ Eric had said on his behalf. But Maria had held her grudge up until this very day.

‘’That was perfect.’’ She said, once he had finished another quick practice run.

‘’It wasn’t. I screwed up the bridge.’’

‘’I didn’t notice.’’

But she didn’t matter. He was going to have to pray that the music governess didn’t notice either, neither the headteacher who was expertised in all the musical greats.

Maria dished up some fried eggs for him, something he usually demanded but today his appetite had disappeared. He felt sick. The performance would affect his reference for Oxford, his ability to play such a complicated piece in a short time span to a sizeable audience.

He walked to school with his violin case, bumping against his legs. He always went in early so he could practice in the music room. He hummed the notes silently to himself as he went, especially the bridge part.

His fingers itched at his side - it felt so odd when they just lay limply, they were usually holding his violin or in the brown hair on top of John’s hair. He imagined how the morning sky would make his violin appear darker than usual-if it weren’t safely in its case- a sort of raven black that gleamed like freshly polished shoes.

The governess had raised a silent brow at his choice of colour. ‘’But its so morbid, Eric.’’ She had told him with a sniff. ‘’ Its like the colour of death.’’

And Eric had said. ‘’I know.’’

Christian was lounging about the corridors like a predator, walking up and down and checking classrooms. He always came in early with his Father and was constantly bored. Being the headteacher’s son had it’s pros as well as its cons.

He smiled wickedly at the sight of Eric who frowned at the sight of him. ‘’Hello, Eric.’’ Christian said, eyes drawn to his neck where the collar of his shirt was loose. ‘’No tie, then?’’

’’Gonna tell your daddy?’’ Eric retorted.

‘’Not if you give me a kiss.’’ He said, a smirk worming its way onto his face. Eric airkissed him and made to walk past but Chris held his wrist on the dangerous side of tightly.

‘’You always look so wonderful with your violin.’’ He said, softly. ‘’If you weren’t with John-’’

‘’If I wasn’t with John, I’d be single. You wouldn’t stand a chance.’’

Chris smiled at his answer and let go of his wrist but not before carefully buttoning the top of Eric’s white shirt. ‘’We can’t have boys getting tempted.’’ He said in lieu of explanation before finally stepping out of Eric’s way.

It wasn’t anything completely out of the ordinary. Eriksen was half obsessed with him, would follow him at any chance he got and had even invited himself to Eric’s birthday party. They had kissed at prom, two years ago and the Dane had never forgotten it.

He’d told John about it but the latter had shrugged it off and fed himself some strawberries. Either he wasn’t bothered about it or he didn’t believe Eric. Regardless, Eric knew that John wanted to keep in good graces with Eriksen so his Father would produce flawless reports that would open the doors to the best universities. John was a pure opportunist, a brilliant actor and a great kisser. They were made for each other.

He was able to squeeze in half an hour of practice before it was time for assembly and time to play.

++

‘’It was wonderful!’’ Kate beamed, hugging him warmly.

He was slightly irritated with her as she had walked in late during his performance alongside Harry and they’d caused a ruckus as they searched for their seats but he still smiled gratefully.

His heart was still thumping heavily, recovering from the fast adrenaline. The whole school had sat before him, in the palm of his hands and he had the power to render them speechless or in tears. The governess had wiped tears from her eyes as he had played, the headteacher’s eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

‘’You played like an old man.’’ Harry commented. ‘’It’s a compliment!’’ He added at Eric’s lukewarm reaction.

Other students congratulated him off stage, some shaking his hand, some kissing his cheek, others hugging him.

John stood off to the corner watching the crowd surround him and Eric caught his eye immediately. He didn’t look like he was in a good mood, a crease in his forehead symbolising his frown. Eric stood up straighter as John began to slink his way towards him. He couldn’t help but feel that John’s opinion mattered greatly. This was the same boy who he had laid in bed with several times, the boy he told everything to, the first boy he’d ever cared for.

John always looked so elegant in the school’s uniform- he would always choose the blue shirt rather than the white one - ‘’It’s too common’’- his hair was styled perfectly and Eric, even as handsome as he was, felt self-conscious about his own hair.

People said nothing as John pushed past them, some peering at the scene. Everyone knew they were together and no one really cared. It was perhaps due to their spectacular talents that rescued them from any form of hatred rather than the fact that people were a hundred percent accommodating of their sexualities.

It felt like he wasn’t the only one holding his breath. Kate, beside him stood very, very still.

John stood in front of him. ‘’You messed up the bridge.’’ He swallowed hard. ‘’Played a G rather than a D.’’

‘’It doesn’t matter.’’ Kate said quickly. ‘’No one noticed.’’

Eric himself had noticed and that simple second had felt like an eternity before he quickly recovered, his fingers almost bleeding with how desperately he had tried to make up for his mistake.

‘’They’ll notice it at Oxford.’’ John said. ‘’They notice everything.’’

‘’John, what the fuck-’’

‘’It’s okay.’’ Eric said, cutting in.’’He’s right.’’

John was just dishing out constructive criticism. He was a perfectionist, just like Eric was. And so, naturally, he only wanted Eric to be perfect too. John smiled at him before planting a kiss on his forehead. ‘’I’m only ever honest with you.’’

Afterwards, instead of going out for lunch like they usually did, he cooped himself up in the music room, like an animal during hibernation and played the same note over and over and over again.

Below, in the pool a girl dived in, landing with minimal splash and then swam the twenty five metres , her fingers gliding against the water, in perfect harmony with it.

He could have been a swimmer. He’d been like a little fish when he was younger- his mum had given him the nickname playfully- at the age of nine he was racing some of the older kids and beating them too. He’d always liked the feeling and sensation of hiding - something he was able to do underwater when everything was tinged with blue.

He was still able to hide behind his violin, especially when he closed his eyes. He was young again and hearing the news of his father's death whilst he waited on the steps, the raw depth of emotions that his eight year old self had been too small to comprehend. He was able to transport himself back to that moment, extract the emotion out of it, and open his eyes and be in the present again. Eric couldn’t live without his violin- couldn’t dare think of it. It was his main form of therapy.

++

John was being crass with him. He followed Eric back to his house and scowled the whole time. Eric half wanted to snap at him to get out as he could literally feel the house groan with the misery John was injecting into it.

‘’Where’s the gift I got you for your birthday?’’ He demanded, storming around the living room.

Eric sighed from his position on the white rug near the television, his English books spread around him like petals.

John had gotten him a watch. A silver rolex watch to be specific. According to him it had cost over 10,000 grand. He was thankful but he did wish John wasn’t so flashy with his gifts sometimes. This year it was a watch, last year a chestnut violin even though he knew Eric loved black.

‘’I left it in one of the rooms.’’ He said, remembering.

‘’One of the rooms? Sounds quite carless.’’

‘’You told me to take it off because it was scratching against your thighs.’’ He read page 267 of The Handmaid's tale as he said this.

John paused, now remembering too. ‘’Oh, yeah.’’

Eric glanced over at him, wishing he could smooth out the frowns that were etched onto his face. ‘’You seem so on edge. Why don’t you read the Macbeth script to calm you down?’’

A flicker of embarrassment flitted across John’s pale face.

‘’What?’’ Eric said.

‘’Somehow, I didn’t get the part.’’ He managed to grit out. It must have been painful for him to say that. Eric was surprised too- John always got the part he wanted- that was just the way it went.

‘’Who got it, instead?’’ He asked curiously. John was perfect for the role of Macbeth.

‘’Winks.’’ He said.

Eric snorted and John glared at him. ‘’No!’’ Eric said, sitting up with a jolt. ‘’I’m not laughing at you, I’m-’’

‘’Don’t say anything, please.’’ He cut him off, taking a seat on the sofa, dramatically. ‘’How am I supposed to tell my Dad?’’ He mused. ‘’He’s already started bragging to the whole fucking family!’’

Eric crawled over to him and placed his head on John’s legs, his thighs strong enough to form a makeshift pillow. ‘’Maybe you could play a different role?’’ He suggested.

John’s leg shook with his anger at Eric’s question. ‘’Maybe you shouldn't apply to Oxford.’’ He countered. Eric inhaled sharply.

‘’Exactly!’’ John pointed out. ‘’Now you know how ridiculous you sounded just then. It’s easy for you to come over here with your sympathetic eyes knowing the whole school’s practically licking your arse out.’’

He wanted to say that he couldn’t help being so liked but he was sure that comment would set alight their first real argument. So he simply thought it instead. He couldn’t help being a star, a magnet, a spark. He knew it irritated John at times but there was nothing he could do about it.

So he offered him a blowjob knowing that even as fiery as John’s moods were, his dick’s greatest desire always won in the end. John made a face but said nothing as Eric pulled down his trousers.

‘’How’s your mum?’’ John asked halfheartedly, knowing fully well Eric couldn’t answer with his mouth preoccupied. In response, he hummed around John’s member and the other boy threw his head back and sighed.

++

Kate was having an impromptu dinner which annoyed Eric as he hated not being told in advance. His throat was sore because John had fucked his mouth several times, like it was some sort of punishment for being so adored and now he could scarcely utter two words.

Eric shook his head when John looked over for his opinion after reading out the text. John decided that they were going to go anyways.

So Eric decided that maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. He wasn’t exactly the talker of the group, anyways. He left that to Kate and John and sometimes even Harry if he was up for it. He wouldn’t be surprised if Eriksen somehow made his way there too, Sonny by his side, the ultimate Robin to Batman.

They ran late because Eric fretted so long over what to wear. Even though it was only Kate, he couldn’t look bad by John’s side. Alongside Sonny, they were both fashion icons; Johnny Depp levels for such young people.

John was still in uniform, his blue shirt no more creased than it had been before he walked into the house. He had come three times successively yet looked very nonchalant such was the power of his acting ability. It was amazing and disconcerting on so many levels. Eric was sure he could murder a cat and then smile as though it was just another normal day.

They arrived twenty minutes in, John’s hand finding his as Kate opened the door. She was a big fan of the Labour party so she actually opened doors for herself. Kate’s place was always the best to have dinners at. John’s father was a cold brute and Harry’s mother was pregnant and got really paranoid when there were too many people in the room. Kate’s mum was man hunting and was hence rarely home.

‘’Is Christian here?’’ Eric asked Kate as John walked confidently ahead to the dining room.

‘’Nope.’’ Katy said, popping the p.

‘’Thank God.’’ Eric said, relieved. Kate glanced at his outfit; his grey jumper that was stiff at the neck.

‘’Is that why you’re dressed like that?’’

‘’He’s got a weird fetish for my neck.’’ he explained.

‘’Not exactly the best impression for our guest, Eric.’’ Kate said with a laugh. ‘You look like you’re scared of germs!’’

‘’What guest?’’ Eric said, pulling his jumper down.

‘’Ruby brought her boyfriend with her again.’’

Again? He thought. Sure enough when he entered the dining room a new face stood out amongst the familiar sights of the china doll collection on the shelf and the long dining table that stood proudly on all four legs. The mixed race boy looked familiar, sat next to Ruby, his arm around her chair tapping anxiously on the back. They both saw each other at the same time. The boy stopped his tapping.

John was suddenly beside him, a disgusted look on his face. ‘’Don’t know what he’s doing here.’’ He muttered under his breath.

The boy was looking down at their hands which Eric realised were once again entwined.

‘’Why don’t we sit opposite our lovely guest, Eric?’’ John said with a wicked grin, taking the one of the leather seats opposite Ruby. Harry was on the vertical end of the table, an elbow resting languidly on the table. Of course he was so comfortable, he practically lived here now.

The lights on the ceiling were hot and he was suddenly burning in the stupid jumper he had adorned himself with. The plates were filled with roast potatoes and turkey, although none for Kate who was a vegetarian.

Eric took his seat promptly next to John, his chair scraping uncomfortably against the wood.

‘’Eric, it’s great to see you.’’ Ruby said earnestly. ‘’I heard your performance went well. Kate won’t stop going on about it!’’

He felt John tense beside him. He made to move the subject on swiftly only to remember the soreness of his throat. He nodded quickly instead.

Finally, her boyfriend spoke, drawing himself out of the slouch his posture had previously been in. He put forward a hand, not really aimed particularly at either one of them. His hair consisted of dark short curls that coiled inwardly. He was wearing a ratty red shirt that looked almost pink, the colour practically rinsed out. He had dark eyes and lashes of a considerable length. His hands were plain, nothing that indicated instrumental skills.

‘’I’m Dele.’’ He introduced himself with a polite smile that looked rehearsed. Eric blinked down at his hand as if it were something foreign whilst John clasped his hand in a jolly manner but he knew instantly that John was being anything but.

‘’I remember you!’’ John said, with a laugh. ‘’Bathroom Boy! Eric you remember him, don’t you?’’

‘’No.’’ Eric said. It was sort of true. He had been so desperate for John’s affection that night that he scarcely remembered anything else from the party. He also couldn’t be bothered to indulge in John’s game, especially as the guy was Ruby’s boyfriend and she was one of his closest friends.

John ignored his comment anyway and pulled his hand back, clutching his fork instead and waving it round and round.

Dele’s jaw stiffened but he didn’t say anything. It reminded him of when John would cut the lunch queue at school and everyone in the line would glare daggers at him but say and actually do nothing. It was a certain type of power and John certainly knew how to wield it.

‘’Fuck off.’’ Ruby said kindly. ‘’As if you didn’t get lost the first time.’’

‘’He’s definitely a bit more used to it now!’’ Harry roared. He was certainly in the mood. He carried the bulk of the conversation asking Dele about his state school but mostly talking to Ruby. Kate smiled proudly at him from the other end of the table.

It appeared Dele was more of a listener than a talker, hopping in with his occasional input every now and then but mostly he just sat back, surveying the room, his legs close with Ruby’s. Every now and then, their eyes would accidentally meet and Eric found himself looking away first. It was strange having someone new to the group, someone he knew literally nothing about. For all he knew, Dele could have been planning on murdering them all. He had the urge to ask if state schools were as awful as they had been made out to be but decided to drink his water in a dedicated manner, deciding not to ever give blowjobs on weekdays ever again.

‘’We snuck into your school some days ago.’’ Dele said, suddenly.

‘’Really?’’ John said. He sounded impressed despite it all.

‘’Did you use the fox door?’’ Kate asked excitedly.

‘’Is that what you call it?’’ Dele said with a wry smile.

‘’It was as easily done as when we did it years ago.’’ Ruby said.

‘’You missed the chance to graffiti the walls.’’ Harry said. ‘’That would have freaked them all out.’’

‘’Next time, maybe.’’ Dele said, a glint in his eye.

He seemed content that the group were starting to warm to him more. And suddenly Eric despised him. If he thought he was just going to waltz in here just because he happened to be dating Ruby then he had another thing coming. Eric prided himself in having tight-knit circles, bound together by time, memory and experiences. None of these traits he shared with the new boy.

He got up to wash the plates, needing something to do and Ruby joined him. Her dark, shiny hair was tied into a bun, the sheen of her lip gloss glinting like diamonds. ‘

’You and John seem good.’’ She commented as she cleaned the rim of a wine glass and placed it in the cabinet past Eric’s shoulder.

’’You sound surprised.’’ he quickly picked up on her tone. He was also somewhat offended. Why was it so shocking, so inconceivable that him and John would last as long as they had? They were so similar, after all.

Ruby shrugged a shoulder. ‘’I don’t know..I guess I thought it was like trying to fit two suns in a single box, you know?’’

Eric hummed, not sure how to respond. She was essentially saying they both had big fat egos that they would struggle to tame. He remembered their slight argument in the afternoon and couldn’t deny her point had a slither of credibility to it but they would work through it. He had it all planned out; him studying music at Oxford and John studying drama at Durham.

She then paused as if she were waiting for Eric to ask about her own relationship but then Dele was clearing his throat at the door of the kitchen, a plate in his hand. ‘’You forgot to collect mine.’’ Dele said to him.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ Eric said, not sorry at all.

‘’It’s fine, I’ll wash it.’’ Ruby said taking the plate from him instead. Instead of immediately going back to the dining room like Eric expected he would, Dele stayed put and watched Ruby.

Eric dried his hands and made to go back to his seat. His arms annoyingly brushed Dele’s as he walked past, the fine hairs of his jumper coming into contact with the latter’s brown skin exposed by the short sleeves of his shirt. And the way the boy looked at him after spoke for itself. Dele stared at him for a beat, a note too long. Something only akin to fascination. Fascination with Eric, as many were.

He was sat down for no more than ten minutes when his phone buzzed in his pocket and a text came through from Francisco, one of the admin workers at St. Bartholomew’s hospital.

The Radiotherapy isn’t working.

He stood up sharply, practically knocking over his chair, announced his departure swiftly and turned on his heel towards the door until he left the house when he then began sprinting towards the hospital.

There was, of course, another reason why he had become so sombre and insular in recent times. There was the small matter of the fact that his mother was dying.

He could instantly tell something was up when half of the school stunk ferociously like weed.

At lunch, people huddled around in small groups, their eyes darting this way and that for any signs of teachers, their usually bellowed conversations dwindling down to whispers and being swept away by the roaring of the wind that had decided to grace them on that particular Autumn day.

He couldn’t find Ruby. She - unsurprisingly- had other friends, girls who admired the ground she walked on. Ruby talked different- elaborated code- and dressed different- she always wore a particularly expensive looking necklace. She also had different opinions which conflicted with the status quo of their school, she was very liberal and educated on key issues. They were drawn to her like moths.

In contrast, Dele wasn’t really into the whole friend business thing and usually went on his phone in the common room, going through his social media or playing games. Today, however, he had opted for a slight change in scenery, which was why he had even noticed the changed atmosphere in the first place.

He spotted a kid in year nine suddenly - he had shuffled out from behind the old shed in the field, stuffing a small bag anxiously into his pocket and gulping hard. He looked severely uncomfortable. Dele could just imagine the boy being egged on by his mates and eventually conforming to the mounts of peer pressure- as fragile as glass.

He walked over to the area where he had seen the boy leaving, behind the shed that contained sports equipment and benches and came face to face with Jamie Vardy. His triangular, pale, face jutted out, the bags under his eyes strikingly prominent -as deep as anything. He was wearing an oversized black jacket that only seemed to maginify how skinny he looked and sure enough, his pockets were filled to the brim with weed- fucking weed. He was selling weed to kids! Kids as young as twelve. Just like Rome, Dele thought, how the mighty had fallen.

Jamie sniffed. ‘’You just gonna stand there or do you want to buy some?’’

‘’Of course I’m not buying any.’’ Dele said.

‘’Then move on. I don’t have time to waste.’’

‘’I think it’s time you came back, Jamie.’’ He said with a sigh.

‘’Back to what?’’ Jamie said, thick as a plank.

‘’To Stacey. You’re clearly way out of your depths.’’

‘’I’m fine.’’ Jamie insisted. ‘’Check if I’ve got any customers.’’

Dele reluctantly obliged but there was no one heading in their direction. ‘’Where are you staying?’’ He asked, catching a whiff of Jamie’s breath. He had gotten fired weeks ago, he was probably struggling to pay rent. This- selling drugs- must have been his last resort. And what business-like thinking , what entrepreneurship , he thought ironically, selling to kids who weren’t smart enough to tell you what political party was in government.

Jamie sniffed again. ‘’A bedsit down the road.’’ He answered with fierce pride.

‘’You’re being stubborn.’’ He said, crossing his arms. It wasn’t that he particularly cared about the fate of Jamie Vardy but he knew Stacey would and Jamie was lying to her face over and over again. ‘’You could move back into your room with Jesse and then Stacey could help you find a job. You wouldn’t have to pay her rent, obviously and you could save up that money for a better place-’’

‘’Don’t lecture me, kid.’’ The older boy retorted even though there were only a few years between them. ‘’At least I know I don’t like it up the arse. I think you’re still figuring that one out.’’ He let the words sting Dele before climbing over the fence nearby and sneaking out the back entrance of the school - presumably the way he had gotten in.

If Dele were white, his cheeks would be flushed beetroot red with an emotion that lingered on the border between embarrassment and anger. When had Jamie even gotten that indication? Were his inner demons written on his face like a tattoo. He definitely did not like it up the arse. A more reasonable explanation was that Jamie had just used any old insult he could think of - not that he thought his comment specifically true of Dele.

He sat on the ground behind the shed and twiddled his phone around his fingers, contemplating silently.

Two nights ago, Kate had given him all of their Snapchat accounts. She seemed to like him. In the same sort of way Ruby did, but at a much more platonic level. She was hardly judgemental and hadn’t blinked a lid at what he had been wearing. Of what he had seen so far, John posted the most on his story- lots of pictures of fruits and videos of him and his mates, Shakespeare quotes and screenshots of all the hilarious conversations he had. Harry posted the least and when he did it was usually Kate caught off guard - eyes half open or her hair in its mornng messy glory or screenshots of political tweets from Twitter he whole-heartedly agreed wth.

But Eric never posted at all.

Dele was distinctly aware of the fact that the moment Eric had walked into Kate’s dining room in that strangely fashionable jumper - he was going to be a nuisance to him. He was quiet in such a loud way, his blue eyes took everything in, they had taken in Dele’s cheap clothes, had stared at his outstretched hand, they had stared at Dele. Even thinking about the moment now made his head ache. It was getting harder and harder to ignore that feeling in his stomach. The same feeling he had when he had seen Kyle in his towel.

His hand - out of its own accord- opened up the app. Harry had texted him yesterday, listing all the things he should have graffitied onto the walls when him and Ruby snuck into their school, St. Andrews ; Hypocrites , Gloryhunters ; desperate. Harry was a bit of cynicist like him. Dele would say the exact same about his own school.

His fingers hovered over Eric’s name, the blonde bitmoji staring at Dele expectantly through the screen with a grin. Funny, Dele thought. Eric hadn’t smiled once throughout the entire dinner. What would he even say if he were to text him? Hey? Or a Hi? But the words seemed so fucking basic. This guy was on his way to Oxford for Christ’s sake, was his school’s own musical prodigy and lived in an abnormally huge house amongst other things. His fingers lingered over his keyboard doing a strange SunDance.

‘’Is Jamie here?’’ someone asked, suddenly, from beside him.

Dele sprung up like a beanstalk, dropping his phone like it had abruptly been set on fire. The girl - a chavy looking trouble maker - from year 11 raised an eyebrow at his strange behaviour. No normal sixth former would ever act like that in the presence of a younger.

‘’What the fook.’’ She said. ‘’If you was watching porn- I don’t care. I just want to know if you’ve seen Jamie.’’

He managed to regain a quarter of his composure and picked up his phone. ‘’You just missed him. He left.’’ She looked disappointed and turned to leave. ‘’But-’’ Dele continued. ‘’You shouldn’t be doing stuff like that. You’ll just fuck up your life.’’

She scoffed. ‘’My life’s already fucked up.’’ She said. ‘’Now I’m just finding ways to deal with it.’’

++

Kyle had succeeded in finding his parents.

He dragged Jesse and Dele into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. His eyes were shining with excitement. This was a bigger deal than when he’d passed his maths GCSE’s or when he’d lost his virginity.

The bathroom was essentially a cube, a shower cubicle shoved into one corner, a toilet in the other. One corner had a sink and the final corner was the one they were squashed into like two, no - three peas in a pod. Three peas in an uncomfortably small pod.

‘’Judas.’’ Jesse said before Kyle could delve into any detail.

He shared a similar view to Dele in regards to the situation but for a different reason. Whilst Dele didn’t want Kyle to look for his parents because the disappointment would be inevitable, Jesse didn’t want Kyle to look for his parents because Jesse himself was convinced that living in a care home was actually pretty cool. He’d been watching a lot of Tracey Beaker and had gotten into an intense argument with Dele as to whether they were romanticising care homes or not.

‘’Shut Up.’’ Kyle said, adamantly.

Dele sniffed. ‘’But why are we in the bathroom?’’ He asked.

‘’It’s the only door that locks.’’ Kyle said.

‘’Is it?’’ Jesse said, genuinely surprised. Dele wasn’t aware of that either.

‘’Trust me, I tried them all.’’ Kyle then proceeded to tell them about how he had found Mr and Mrs Walkers. ‘’On Facebook.’’

Dele snorted. ‘’Old school.’’

‘’But there must be like millions of Walkers?’’ Jesse said.

‘’Yeah so I messaged them all.’’ Kyle responded.

Dele couldn’t help but cringe. No way was Kyle that desperate to find out who his parents were. The same parents who had essentially thrown him away, like an unwanted packet of crisps. It was pathetic.

‘’Ever heard of catfishing?’’ Jesse pushed on. ‘’This sounds like that MTV show.’’

‘’ Except - they knew everything about me.’’ Kyle said. ‘’The birthmark on my left thigh, the scar on my neck that I’ve always had. My favourite TV show when I was younger - power rangers.’’

Okay, so it was nuanced but it was still too ambiguous. There was still no concrete, stone cold proof that they were a hundred percent his parents. ‘’Still a red flag.’’ Dele said.

‘’They sent photos of me as a child.’ Kyle continued, digging out his phone and showing them the blurry yet distinguishable image of a younger version of little old Kyle in his nappies. It was so weird , seeing him like that. Part of his previous life.

‘’So you’ve always had a big nose, then.’’ Jesse joked.

Kyle nudged him hard but the humour was desperately needed. What they were discussing , what Kyle had done was looming above all three of them like a large shadow. Dele wasn’t sure which was worse; that these were actually Kyle’s parents getting in touch with him after all these years or that those Walkers were lying straight to him.

‘’Have you asked them why they gave you up?’’ Dele asked sharply. ‘’Why they didn’t want you anymore?’’

Kyle made a face. ‘’It doesn’t matter right now-’’

‘’Of course it fucking matters.’’ Dele said. He didn’t want to have the same argument again but Kyle was being desperate beyond belief- and naive, very naive. He felt like he was watching someone attempt to jump from a bridge, him being the person trying to talk them out of it, but them insisting that they would survive the jump. ‘’If you really go through with this..’’ He trailed off. ‘’Then I don’t know what to say.’’

‘’Then don’t say anything.’’ Kyle said, equally as irritated. ‘’You’re always so miserable anyways.’’

‘’I’m not miserable.’’ Dele argued.

Jesse watched them both with a sense of deja vu- he’d seen it all before.

‘’You bloody are.’’ Kyle said. ‘’You’ve got a fit girlfriend, decent grades yet you look like the face of death. You just want me to be as sad as you are.’’

‘’I don’t . I’m not-’’

‘’You’re scared , too.’’ He powered on like a high speed train. ‘’You’re scared of looking for your parents. But I’m not. I’m not scared of anything.’’

‘’I’m not scared, I’m just not stupid .’’

There was the sound of glass clattering to the floor. They both stopped and looked at Jesse who had dropped a vase to grab their attention. ‘’Fucking finally.’’ He said.

‘’We’re going to have to clean that up, now.’’ Dele said, utterly pissed off.

‘’No. You two are cleaning it up.’’ Jesse said, pushing past them to leave the bathroom. As annoying as it was, Jesse’s tactic was admittedly a successful one.

++

He wondered when all the time he spent in West London hanging out with Ruby’s friends was going to rub off on him like gold dust, transform into a picture of arrogance and up his ego considerably but it never really happened.

He engaged in civil conversation with John - though the guy always had a backhanded compliment up his sleeve, including that annoying nickname- and chatted with Harry and Kate but he stayed pretty normal. He wore the same clothes he had in his wardrobe, even when Ruby delicately offered to give him some money - she had felt embarrassed about it afterwards and so had he -they had laughed it off with a kiss that didn’t set his body on fire.

They got high sometimes as a group and stayed up really late. It now made a bit more sense to him why Ruby would show up late to school most days. Dele was always sober, staying true to his morals. It was interesting to note the differences in behaviour. Kate would get really moody and give lectures about her mum, Harry would lay flat on his back and stare at the light on Kate’s ceiling, humming music softly to himself from musicals and Ruby would get sad, the rare sight of a frown on her face looked so out of place and she would lean against Dele’s shoulder like her head weighed too much for her own body.

John and Eric became more affectionate when they got high and the scene he had first met them in revived and reared its ugly head. They would kiss each other desperately and passionately. Eric would always look really vulnerable and dependent on John, kissing at his neck when John transferred his attention to something else. Dele watched the same scene every time. And each time he saw it, the longer he stared. The sight of boys kissing was still new- but boys kissing like that was something else.

Eric’s eyes always went blank and when he spoke - which was rarely - he sounded so morbid. ‘’I could have pushed a girl into the road this morning. She would’ve died I think. Two cars were driving over the limit.’’ He had said once. No one blinked at his words, all sadly caught up in their own problems.

Dele would have reacted and responded but he was becoming more aware of the fact that Eric didn’t like him for whatever reason. He was never openly rude about it but it wasn’t hard to distinguish. Small things like never saying his name even though he took the time to say everyone else’s, always forgetting him in group discussions, never talking to him directly. If he had wanted to piss Dele off then it was the wrong tactic because it only made Dele more curious about him. Like a particular character from an English Literature novel that was able to hold the reader’s attention without even trying.

They mainly chilled out at Kate’s place- with Eric always ruling out his house even though it was the largest from what Dele had seen. Kate’s house had a more comfier feel as opposed to Eric’s sterile one. There were warm colours wherever you looked, orange and yellow and brown hues littered the walls and floors with a friendly ease. She had four bedrooms and two spare rooms that couldn’t really be handed a name. They contained large canvases and paintings and trophies - ‘’I used to dance.’’ she had explained - like mini museums.

One canvas was of a naked woman whose hair was tied into a bun, her fingers pointed at the tip reaching for something that Dele couldn’t quite see. Another canvas was of an eye- a pale green one with every fine line highlighted to such perfections. He was probably looking at what Stacey only ever dreamed of producing. Perhaps this would have been her if she had taken the other path, if she’d dedicated her life fully to art rather than being a foster mum.

He felt someone watching him and turned around to see Kate. She looked like a less glamorous version of Marilyn Monroe- if Marilyn were famous for wearing jeans and white tops, her hair tied up with pins. ‘’What does it all mean?’’ He asked her, turning back towards the art.

‘’Nothing.’’ She answered, surprising him. ‘’It’s all meaningless.’’ She smiles at his reaction. ‘’I bet that’s not what you wanted to hear. I suppose I could lie: The Naked Women is an oedem to twenty first century feminism -’’

‘’Don’t lie.’’ Dele said with a laugh. It did seem pointless though. Why fill the walls with huge sweeping paintings that meant absolutely fuck all? Or was it just something to splash the cash on? He can’t say he would be shocked if that were the case. She stood beside him staring up at The Naked Woman.

The woman's skin was beautifully pale and white like satin, her hair like silk, the curves emphasised with lines that formed a V at the sides of her thighs.

‘’The truth is this used to be my brothers room.’’ Kate said, after a while.

He could hear Harry chatting loudly a couple of rooms away followed by John’s booming voice. ‘’Ah.’’ Dele nodded. ‘’He moved out?’’

‘’He died, actually.’’ She corrected him gently. Despite the sadness of the words she spoke, her face barely flickered.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ He said, not knowing what else to say. It felt pathetic.

‘’I don’t remember him at all, so its like- just emptiness.’’ She shakes her head. ‘’He was like three or four. So was I. Who remembers anything at that age, you know?’’

Yeah, Dele thought. How strange that the early years of their lives had been wiped, removed, erased and forgotten. How strange that if he had those years back, he would have known who his parents were.

‘’How did he die?’’ He asked evenly.

She shrugged. ‘’No idea. Mum won’t tell me. I don’t even know what he looked like. It must have hurt her real bad.’’ She paused, a strange look crossing her face. He briefly wondered if they’d been drinking in the other room.

‘’Maybe he was her favourite.’’

‘’Don’t say that.’’ Dele said, feeling bad. Kate shrugged again. It was her own form of self defense in the same way Dele had weaponised his sarcasm.

‘’Are you your mum’s favourite?’’ She asked lightly, clearly attempting and aiming to lighten the mood, unknowingly dampening it even further.

‘’I - don’t know.’’ He said. She laughed, perhaps mistaking his sheepishness for modesty.

++

Another pattern that had emerged was Eric’s disappearing act. He was a master at it. Ish .

The group would be immersed in the days chosen activities, either a board game or a film or a heated debate- they loved talking about politics; John and Kate respectively arguing in favour of the Conservatives and Labour Party- and Eric would hang around in the background, his blue eyes trained to his phone , occasionally flickering towards the action, before he would leave silently. If anything, Dele’s ability to spot him wasn’t so much Eric being at fault for making it obvious but more so a testament to how closely Dele would watch him. He always left regularly and no one batted an eye-lid. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal but Dele found it kind of odd that he always left earlier than the rest of them.

The same thing happened at the weekend as they arrived in the first week of November. It was cold and the nights were longer, the days darker. Stacey was becoming harder to convince to let him go out but she allowed it this time as he finished his homework. They seemed to have struck an unspoken deal that as long as Dele was getting his work done, he was permitted more freedom.

Dele arrived by himself as Ruby was already there and found Eric arriving at the same time, climbing out of a black taxi, wrapped up in a black bomber jacket,black gloves to match. Eric spared him a glance and strode towards Kate's house.

‘’Eric.’’ Dele said. His mouth was speaking before his brain had even processed his words.

Eric slowed his gait but he didn’t stop. It screamed catch up with me .

‘’Hey.’’ Dele said as he caught up to his pace. Now next to him, he realised they were about the same height.

‘’Hey.’’ Eric said straight back, as if mocking him. What to say next? He didn’t have much time before they reached Kate’s doorstep and Eric was given the license to ignore him once and for all. The blonde stopped dead still and stared at him expectantly. If he had wanted to fade into the background by wearing only black, it felt like the pure opposite- his blue eyes standing out against the inky black of his coat like sapphires.'

‘’So why Oxford?’’ He asked, at last. It was neither the best of questions nor the worst. But Eric wouldn’t be able to answer it with a simple gesture, it would take at least a sentence. It would take speaking to Dele directly instead of the half-arsed glance he usually took to. A soft breeze nibbled at his fingertips, he responded by putting his hands snugly into the pockets.

Eric took some time to answer, as if he himself was contemplating the question for the first time. ‘’Oxford is where perfection lies.’’ He said stiffly, as if quietly offended that Dele would have asked such a stupid question. Poor kid , he must have been thinking. The poor part being literal.

Dele didn’t agree though. Perfection didn’t lie at Oxford or any other prestigious institution, it was a concept constructed to push false narratives. ‘’But perfection doesn’t exist.’’ He had replied, somewhat daringly.Very daringly, if Eric’s scowl was anything to go off of.

He realised this probably wasn’t doing him any favours in the why does Eric dislike me department. And yet, somehow this was better. To get an actual human reaction from the boy who treated him like air and whose moods consisted of being high or seriously quiet. This was definitely better. Look at me , Dele thought.

‘’Of course, to you it doesn’t.’’ Eric said potently. ‘’Some of us can actually reach it.’’

‘’Yourself, you mean.’’

‘’It’s getting cold.’’ Eric said, turning swiftly to climb up Kate’s doorsteps.

‘’You’re wearing the thickest jacket I’ve ever seen.’’ Dele pointed out, but the blonde had already stepped inside the building.

Eric seemed more determined than ever to ignore him and Dele was more determined than ever to get him to acknowledge him; he posed unanswered questions to Eric the whole afternoon, the latter easily able to ignore him by simply scooting up closer to his boyfriend John or drinking whatever faceless liquid they were indulging in that time.

At the end of it all, Eric would always look at his phone and then leave. Dele swore to follow him one day- he was gripped by a neverending urge to talk to Eric or something or anything. Anything at all.

‘’Late once again, Miss Mae.’’ The headteacher said potently, the unexpected change in the content of his speech, woke half of the sixth formers. His assembly was boring and mundane, a routine reminder on the school’s strict uniform policy- a point undermined by several girls in year 13 who had face piercings in abundance and earrings much larger than the size of a five pence coin.

Ruby had interrupted him halfway through, her presence always noticeable, lips pursed and her hair beautifully done as it was so often. The look on her face instantly informed Dele that she was high- he had seen that expression way too many times now. Like she was half here and half somewhere else.

She didn’t even seem to notice Mr Stanley and his bold head, his assertion of authority and power merely a facade against a body of students who couldn’t give a flying fuck.

'’Dele?’’ Ruby said, turning to look at all of them. She sounded strangely insistent.

At the mention of his name, he wanted to sink into his chair. He was half embarrassed for her and knew she would hate herself for her behaviour later on. He was confused as to why she was even high at nine fucking a.m in the morning? It didn’t make any sense.

Jesse beside him glanced at him before nudging him, a weird look on his face. They all slowly turned until they were all looking at him. It felt something like a nightmare. He never thought of himself as the type to stand out and he didn’t really want to. Had never wanted to. Why was Ruby doing this? What was wrong with her?

Despite their predicament she looked relieved to see him. Mr Stanley, for as much as he was the moral vanguard within the room, seemed just as curious as everyone else. ‘’ Dele.’’ She said with a happy smile.

‘’Yeah?’’ He replies, his voice sounding distant. He didn't mean for it to but he wants the ground to swallow him up whole. ‘’I love you.’’ she added. ‘’I’m not even joking.’’

Dele bit his lip and stood then, making a split decision that he had to get them both out of there.

‘’ What the fuck. ’’ Kyle said, the first to break their shared monopoly over the conversation in the room. This seemed to empower everyone else to get their own two cents in, opinions flying left right and centre, some of the girls feeling sorry for her, their bittered experiences with boyfriends souring their comments. Some of the boys seemed a little envious, some of the more experienced students figured it out and attempted to guess between them what exactly she was high on.

’'Nutmegs.’’

‘' Bath Salts.’’

‘’Nah- I reckon its cough syrup.’’

Dele made his way through the aisle, minding people’s scuffed kickers on his way, feeling Jesse pinch him along the way. Sort your missus out- it meant. The realisation that this was his responsibility now accompanied the feeling of whether he wanted it or not.

Ruby swayed on her feet lightly, she was wearing her favourite heeled boots, her eyes fixed firmly on him. ‘’I’m not joking.’’ she repeated.

‘’Ruby.’’ He sighed once he was near her, grabbing her arm gently and leading them out of the hall.

‘’Because I was thinking about it and it’s the only way to describe it- love. I looked at all of the definitions.’’

He was certain that she was waffling now and was willing to overlook it in favour of waiting for her to come back down to earth and realise where she was and who she was. But then Ruby shook him off her with such sudden rigidness that he paused. The air felt different somehow. ‘’Don’t you believe it?’’

‘’What?’’ he couldn’t help but sound exasperated. ‘’You’ve just fucking embarrased yourself.’’ and me , he thought. The whole being in care thing was enough to keep a low profile and he didn’t need antics like this to make him some sort of notorious b-tech celebrity.

‘’Is that all you care about?’’ she snapped, her brown eyes simmering but not with tears, something else. Like anger. ‘’I tell you how I feel and you treat me like a child.’’

‘’You don’t know what you want right now.’’ he insists, he’s convinced he’s saying the right things. That sober Ruby would also be cringing at herself right now. But the dazed look is fading quickly from her eyes.

'‘I want you to want me.’’ She said firmly, clearly, so well articulated that he knew that she meant it. ‘’To kiss me, touch me, damn it Dele I want you to fuck me.’’

Dele blinks at her, his mouth parting slightly. Of course, being in a relationship sex was always a distant possibility. But to have her vocalise it was a different thing.

Ruby’s left hand took his own and placed it boldly on her left boob, right there in the corridors with the hum of the aftermath in the assembly hall the only salient noises. ‘’We haven’t done as much as I thought we would. And you’re too sweet to ask. I thought you were scared that you would be pressuring me into having sex. But you wouldn’t be- won’t be. Because I want to. That’s good right?’’ She asked quickly, perhaps also receptive to the fact that it was increasingly becoming a one sided conversation.

Dele was thinking hard. As weirdly as the whole thing had come about, maybe it was a blessing in disguise. If he actually got round to fucking a girl, to replicate the timeless desired scenes of a female squirming underneath him in beautiful flesh, something akin to the portrait of The Naked Woman, tits bouncing up and down and back arched, then maybe-, maybe he wouldn’t be so- gay.

‘’That’s really good.’’ Dele says, his right arm wrapping itself around her waist. Ruby broke out a small smile. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He said. ‘’For-.’’

‘’ Shhh.’’ Ruby said placing a finger to his lips. ‘’Wanna bunk?’’

He smiled in lieu of agreeing. They were damned if they stayed and damned if they left. They might as well have been damned whilst having a bit of fun.

++

Dele makes it good for her, if anything. She orgasms twice, her nails digging deeply into his back, her legs wrapped around his waist. And that Monday morning vibe, a certain type of languidness derived from it being the beginning of a new week, drifts towards them as they lay side by side afterwards, blinking up at the cream ceiling of Ruby’s room.

She had initially suggested going to his place, her excitement at finally finding out where he lived overt with her tone but Dele had quickly shut that down, forging some sort of half-hearted excuse. Maybe he was fooling himself in his attempts to hide that he lived in a care home. From what he had seen so far, it was likely that Ruby wouldn’t care that much. In fact, maybe her reaction would be the opposite and she would entertain the idea, befriending Ella with ease and even attempting to draw Meghan into a conversation, after complimenting Stacey’s artistic skills of course. Somehow that thought was even scarier.

He wasn’t really sure what he was doing here; holding Ruby close and yet at arms length simultaneously. Dele increasingly felt like he was fighting an exhausting battle with his head which channeled into his actions. He’d lost his virginity now in a crazed attempt to maintain control of his own narrative as a heterosexual dude and in doing so had dragged Ruby into his own shit.

She loved him. She had said as much at school and then again several times whilst they’d had sex. I’ve looked at the definitions. And the thing was - Dele loved her too, just not in the same way. Really, she was his best friend when he thought about it. He didn’t hang around with anyone else this much. Ruby was quiet beside him, the blue duvet cover pulled up to her chin, her hair spilled all over her face. She glanced in his direction, feeling his eyes on her. She huffed a smile, content to bask in the silence and began playing with his hair.

Dele grabbed his phone wanting to keep his hands busy and went on Snapchat, his hand jerking as he noticed that Eric had posted onto his story. It was a video of John eating breakfast opposite him, bed hair and tired eyes and all. A picture of intimacy. John had smirked at the camera before it ended and Dele replayed it, not giving a fuck. That was a different sort of love. He made a decision.

Hey, he texted Eric. Don’t air me, he added precariously.

To his surprise, Eric opened his text pretty quickly but of course aired it. He sent the angry emoji in response and waited for a reply. It was sort of a thrill, attempting conversation with someone who blatantly disliked you.

Aren’t you supposed to be at school? Eric texted a couple of minutes later.

Dele glanced at the time; five past eleven. Aren’t you? He shot back.

Eric didn’t reply for ages. Then, finally. Not when my mouth is this sore.

The implications were so clear, so blunt and direct that Dele couldn’t help but flush. He was sure his skin was hot to the touch. The idea of Eric’s lips- which he remembered staring at in the St Andrew’s achievements board- being bitten and red was so erotic in that exact moment in time. He blamed his reaction on the lingering smell of sex within the air, heightening his senses.

‘’Who are you texting?’’ Ruby asked evenly, her hand still running through his hair. For a split second, he’d forgotten that she was there.

‘’Jesse.’’ He said instinctively, the lie rolling off his tongue. ‘’He says Mr. Stanley’s looking for us.’’

‘’Fuck him.’’ Ruby said quietly with a laugh.

Dele decided not to reply to Eric. What the fuck would he say to that? It felt like the comment was intentional on Eric’s behalf, as if he knew it would make Dele uncomfortable. Eric was quiet, sure, but he was inquisitive, as sharp as a knife. He wouldn’t be surprised if Eric had sussed him out on the first day they’d met properly with Dele staring at him like a goldfish every so often. What was that thing called? A gaydar.

The dynamic between them was so imbalanced and unfair, it felt like Eric was always two steps ahead, ready with a retort to shut him down or trip him up. The only person whittier than Eric was John. He supposed that was why they were together. Very complimentary.

Not when my mouth is this sore.

Dele screwed up his face. Imagine Eric, the closest version he knew to royalty, on his knees like a bitch, getting his mouth destroyed by John fucking Stones. What was it about John that made Eric so pilant and needy? How had John acquired that sort of power and wielded it so effectively?

He tossed his phone back towards the set of drawers and met Ruby’s gaze. They stare at each other silently.

‘’Were you a virgin, Dele?’’ She asks suddenly.

He inhales sharply at the question. ‘’Was it bad or something?’’ He asks, tone halfway between the realms of defensiveness and insecurity.

‘’No.’’ She says firmly. ‘’It was good. I was just.. asking.’’

‘’Oh.’’ He swallows hard. ‘’I was’’

‘’See I wish you would tell me stuff like that.’’ She says softly. ‘’You should know that I would never judge you.'' she paused and moved closer towards him, her face lighting up. That was the thing about Ruby- if she were down or sad it would only be for a bit before happiness took over again. ''Tell me something else I don’t know.’’

I’m in a care home, I’m a liar, I resort to sarcasm when placed in difficult situations, I think Eric Dier is a very interesting person.

‘’I think Marcus Rashford deserves better.’’ he says, honestly. He's surprised to admit that he means it. Marcus did deserve better than the endless mocking he faced from the top dogs. If Dele were braver, if he were someone else, then he’d attempt to break the cycle. If he were braver he’d stand up for Marcus, at least back him.

‘’You know what, I agree with that a hundred percent.’’ She makes a face. ‘’The boys are too caught up in their ‘lads’ culture. We learnt about it in Sociology.’’ She says, her eyes flicking towards him. ‘’You’re so different to other boys, though.’’

But she didn't know that her compliment only spiked at his skin.

++

When Eric walks through the door later that evening, he enters Kate’s living room in a royal blue sweater and faded jeans and quite noticeably-alone.

Dele instinctively sits up from his place on one of the couches next to Harry who’s plaiting Kate’s hair. Soft music is playing in the background from Spotify on the telly, something Ruby had insisted on so she could get bits of her homework done. Dele had been laying down, lost in his own thoughts, debating whether to also do some of the homework due the next day or just continue to gaze out of the window at the groups of teenagers on their way home, moody looks on their faces to match the shitty grey weather. But then Eric had entered the room and suddenly Dele’s thoughts were no longer his own.

Greetings were exchanged half-heartedly- there was this distinct feeling of burnout and tiredness. the burden of A-Levels getting to them all. Eric glanced over at Dele making his whole body alert and Dele waited to be seen, acknowledged. But Eric’s eyes flicked away from him and became more preoccupied with the telly, switching the music to Sebastian Bach.

Dele had heard of him vaguely. Some white dude which the school curriculum adored. He wasn’t about to be ignored, though. ‘’You alright?’’ he nodded at Eric, his feet tapping against the smooth red rug below.

‘’I’m great.’’ Eric replied swiftly, tossing the remote onto the couch so it bumped against Dele’s thigh. ‘’And yourself?’’ His tone was polite and coordial, as if treating Dele like a stranger. Like Dele hadn't been a part of this group for a while now. It annoyed him.

‘’Good.’’ Dele replied, after a beat. ‘’I’m good.’’

Eric turned sharply on his heel and went towards the kitchen. Dele had the sudden need for a drink of water. Eric was rummaging through one of the cupboards such was the ease he felt in Kate’s house. He didn’t flinch at Dele’s presence.

‘’Hungry?’’ Dele asked conversationally. ‘’She’s mainly got like biscuits and nuts in there.’’ He’d checked earlier himself when feeling a bit peckish. Eric grabbed a packet of Digestives, placing several onto a plate neatly.

‘’Can I help you?’’ He questioned reluctantly. The white skin at his neck complimented the richness of his blue jumper which looked like it was worth the same amount as Dele’s whole wardrobe. He couldn’t stop fucking staring. Eric was Adolf Hitler’s wet dream, an ode to the Aryan race with golden blonde hair and blue eyes to match, academically gifted and driven by ambition, sickeningly upright posture as if he were in the navy, smooth Caucasian skin- he was staring again.

Eric was looking at him strangely. ‘’You know, you keep doing that. ’’ Staring at me , is the part he leaves out.

Dele felt embarrassed and his brain scrambled to find a response. ‘’Was just checking...are your lips still sore?’’ Dele said. It was an awful response. Absolute tier 4 sort of stuff.

A sardonic smile wormed its way onto Eric’s face. ‘’They’re fine.’’ he replied pointedly.

Instead of Eric ignoring him, he now just thought he was plain stupid. When, later, Harry and Kate and Ruby got into political jargon, Eric made a snide comment about them slowing down so Dele didn’t get too confused. Ruby threw a critical look Eric's way and smiled at Dele apologetically but he was too annoyed to smile back.

What was the point of this? Dele had never been so openly disliked by anyone before-in his life. And he’d met a whole load of people. The only thing that really came close was probably Lenny, one of the boys at his third or fourth care home who made a continuous effort to step on his shoes everyday for two whole months.

He had a random thought of what Jesse’s thoughts might be regarding the whole situation. He’s probably racist, he could hear Jesse saying. He entertained the thought for a split second before dismissing it. There was no way either Kate or Ruby would be such close friends with someone who was openly prejudiced like that.

Eric made to leave early again, grabbing his coat whilst the rest watched some re-runs of the X-factor, Dele subtly watched him leave without a second glance.

With the four of them here; just Ruby, himself, Kate and Harry it was probably the most comfortable he’d ever felt without the extra layers of tension Eric and John added to everything.

And yet, he wanted to leave. He was going to follow Eric.

‘’My mum just texted me.’’ he said standing up, the words feeling foreign. Mum. ‘’I’ve got to go..’’

‘’Alright,’’ Ruby said, standing up with him.

‘’No.’’ he said quickly. ‘’You stay.’’ He kissed her forehead for good measure. ‘’I don’t want to spoil your fun.’’

She smiled at him, probably surprised and won over by the gesture. ‘’Okay.’’ she nodded.

He left with his heart in his mouth, spotting the blonde tufts of Eric’s hair all the way down the road. He was walking quite hurridily despite the nonchalant way he’d left Kate’s house. Dele followed at a fair distance, pulling the zip of his coat all the way up to his chin, enjoying the way it ripped into his skin. It’s what he deserved for what he was doing. What he was doing, he wasn’t sure. He just knew that Eric always leaving early bothered him too much.

Eric turned right down the street, briskly striding into St. Bartholomew's hospital. Dele frowned and hesitated. What would Eric be doing at a hospital? As far as Dele had seen he’d looked perfectly fine and healthy. He waited a minute before entering the hospital as well, the sickly feeling of beeps and cleanliness washing over him. He rarely went to hospitals. The last time he’d been to one was when Ella had had the flu when she was four. Most of his perceptions of them derived from films and shows, soap operas and melodramas.

The reality was quite eerie.

Everyone knew that the NHS was under pressure but to see the realities of long waiting queues and frustrated patients was different altogether. He bumped into a teenage girl who shot him a cold look, accelerated by the green specks of her eyes. He apologised and glanced around frantically, his breathing slowing down as he caught sight of Eric at the receptionist's desk, a despondent look on his face.

He looked so small in that instance, like a child who realised that it was never going to snow during Christmas in England ever again. The receptionist was telling him something, her eyes shimmering under the fluorescent lights. Eric was staring at her blankly, neither nodding or shaking his head-or anything. That look he had on his face when Dele had first seen him- blank nothingness.

The receptionist got up and went towards the main ward, teetering in her high heels. It was just her job, at the end of the day. Eric stared down at the desk. Dele took a chance.

‘’Eric.’’ He tried carefully.

Eric’s head jerked in an expression of anger, his lips curling instinctively. ‘’What the fuck are you doing here?’’ the tone surprised him. Eric was always composed and calm and confident. He was never like this- angry and scared looking.

‘’Don’t get mad, I’m just-’’

‘’Leave.’’ Eric told him firmly, his blue eyes on fire.

‘’No.’’ Dele said, firmly. ‘’Why are you-’’

‘’It’s like you don’t know what privacy is. First its your fucking gormless stares and now you’re stalking me? Just go home, Dele.’’

And the realisation that Eric had acknowledged his name was outweighed by the amount of stares they received.

People were looking at them now, there is no feeling of surprise but rather interest. It was definitely not the first argument the crowd had witnessed; the hospital environment would drive anyone up the wall. But the sight of two contrasting teenagers arguing was enough to kill the boredom.

When put like that by Eric, Dele sounded awful. But he just wanted to know. ‘’I just want to-’’

‘’Just want to what?’’ Eric cut him off, his fist digging intensely against the desk. ‘’What? Go on.’’

‘’Don’t do this.’’ Dele says. Don’t make a scene, don’t turn me away like this, don’t get so mad. ‘’I’m trying to understand why you-I was only curious.’’

Eric snorts. ‘’And I’m trying to understand how a boy who’s got a girlfriend keeps eye fucking me. But you won’t see me following you anytime soon.’’

Dele's jaw clenches. But before he can retort back, the receptionist returns with a middle aged woman by her side. She’s wheeled in, sat in a wheelchair, wearing a green hospital gown, her skin noticeably frail, a weary expression on her face and a blue hat on her head to match her equally blue eyes.

Eric turns to hug her immediately, abandoning their conversation although his body is still tight with tension. Dele watches the scene from a distance; an outsider. He realises belatedly that his fists are clenched as well. Eric fascinated him as much as anything but he also irritated him too. It dawns on him that it’s Eric’s mum- the mannerisms give it away, and upon second glance the eyes do too.

They hug for so long, with so much intimacy between them that Dele has to look away, heavily second guessing his decision to leave the relative safe haven of Kate’s living room. When he looks back at the scene, Eric’s mum is smiling at him, a dazed sort of one as if she is on some sort of meds. She’s very beautiful despite looking quite frail- she would have been a catch when she was younger, sort of like Ruby in that sense.

Later, Eric lets Dele help his mum to a taxi, mature enough to put their fight to a side for a second. They don’t speak. Eric’s mum had smiled at him again, asking for his name. ‘’Is this your friend, Eric? He’s very helpful.’’ Her voice was soft and tender.

Dele had tried not to snort from his backseat by the window. Beside him, Eric gave him an unreadable look. He didn't respond to his mum and ran a hand through his blonde hair.

Dele wondered why she was at the hospital and what was wrong. She didn’t seem completely miserable, although that might have been a testament to her character rather than the severity of her condition- or any sort of meds that she was on.

The taxi took them to Eric’s house. It looked different when it wasn’t filled with hordes of beautiful people. Silent and empty.

‘’Thank you, sweetie.’’ Eric’s mum said to him, clasping his hand, before Eric wheeled her into one of the several rooms on the ground floor. She seemed so genuine and nice. So different when compared to Eric. She had birthed some sort of talented snob.

And so Dele couldn’t help feeling some sort of moral obligation towards her, still feeling the ghost of her touch on the back of his hand. He’d never had a mum himself and the closest thing he’d gotten was Stacey. But even then, even when Stacey tried there were elements of superficiality to their relationship, it felt measured and structured but not real.

Maybe it was that sort of realness that Kyle had been searching for when he went looking for his parents. Because he wanted something real. Imagine if he’d had a real mum, someone who would take him to Parents Evening and back him when Mr Jenkins criticised his handwriting for being too messy and clasped his hand and called him by a pet name such as sweetie.

‘’Cancer. Breast.’’ was Eric’s sharp voice suddenly from somewhere behind him. His posture remained perfectly upright like he was reciting the names of classical composers in the modern age, distancing himself from the topic, tone blunt and plain spoken. ‘’If you were wondering.’’ He adds.

‘’Oh.’’ Dele said. It felt like he was back at that moment when Kate had told him about her brother's death. How do you respond to that? He didn’t even bother with the words sorry because it was utterly pointless. ‘’What’s her name?’’ He asked instead.

‘’Diana.’’ Eric said stiffly, as if even talking to him was a needless waste of time. Dele nodded, she looked like a Diana. "Anything else you wanna ask me? I'm going to a cello concert tomorrow if you want to stalk me there too. ‘’ His eyes still had anger in them or maybe not anger- something that was almost interchangeable with it; embarrassment.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ Dele said with a sigh.

He meant it. This all felt wrong. Dele knew about privacy- he was the most private person he knew, but when it came to Eric Dier, privacy suddenly didn’t mean a thing. It was like he’d made it his own personal mission to break inside Dier’s museum- all his secrets and information. He was just so fucking intrigued. Everything. To be a privileged rich white kid and yet to always look half empty? It was those types of paradoxes that counted. They mattered. It kept Dele on the edge of his seat.

The sudden thought of John’s whereabouts flashed up in his head. If John was the only other person who knew about Eric’s mum. If that bonded them closer together, made them kiss each other harder, made Eric cling to his boyfriend more. He bit down his tongue about voicing his thoughts. It wasn’t appropriate. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ he said again, though it was more aimed at his own selfish thoughts. That was more appropriate.

Eric’s reaction wasn’t- he sort of shrugged and played with the watch on his wrist, his jaw still stiff. He was embarrassed, Dele was convinced. Now Eric perceived himself to have a weakness. That his snarky comments would carry less weight now that Dele knew about his mum. Eric straightened up and walked towards the stairs. ‘’Thanks for helping my mum.’’ He said as he did so. Aka you can fuck off now.

He then made his way up the L-shaped stairs and past the maid that Dele had remembered seeing during Eric’s party. Her brunette hair was wrapped up into a bun, her sharp eyes trained on Dele, chewing some gum silently. He felt instantly under scrutiny and wiped his hands against his sides.

‘’Hey.’’ he said, feeling rude not to.

‘’Hey.’’ she said, with a smile, her acrylic nails tapping against the banister as she made her way downstairs. ‘’You should come over more often. Diana doesn’t really warm to people like that. It’ll be good for her.’’ She says it so confidently like it's a forgone conclusion.

Dele made a face. ‘’I don’t think Eric would like that.’’

The maid shrugged, she looked like she was in her mid-twenties but was one of those people blessed with a baby face that made her seem so much younger, like a teenager.

‘’Oh, Eric’s a load of shit.’’ She said fondly. ‘’He just wants Diana to be happy. And if you’re making Diana happy, then well, he’ll like you- by force.’’ She nudges him playfully like they're friends already as she skips around him to open the front door. ‘’See you around.’

Vardy’s back.

There’s a big black suitcase plonked in the corridor when Dele gets back from Eric's house, a pair of military looking black boots that weren’t there this morning.

And sure enough, when Dele walks into the kitchen, Jamie is rummaging through the fridge, that same haughty look on his face. He finds the packet of green grapes he was looking for and retreats towards the dining table, sparing a glance at Dele. He looked skinnier than when Dele had last seen him, handing out weed to adolescents, his hair spiked with grease. Dele would never admit it but there’s a small part of him that is pleased he’s come back.

Dele says nothing as he drifts past, heading up to his room and bumping into Ella who is still in her school uniform for some reason. She rolls her eyes at him. ‘’Watch it, Dele.’’ she pouts, picking up one of her Barbie dolls that had tumbled ungracefully to the floor.

‘’Watch your tongue, Ella.’’ Dele warns playfully. ‘’I might have to cut it off.’’

Ella squeals, her eyes a mixture of fear and excitement, caught halfway between you wouldn’t really do that...would you? ‘’Stacey would never let you.’’ she says, although she doesn’t sound so sure.

‘’You happy that Jamie’s back?’’ he asks her, lowering his voice slightly. Sure, Ella was only six, but she was very opinionated for someone of her age. He wasn’t sure how well she even remembered Jamie-if at all. Maybe it was overwhelming for her to have some random nineteen year old deadbeat wander into your living room and munch on a handful of grapes.

Ella shrugged, playing with the blonde hair of the doll. She looked bored of their conversation already and so Dele let her go, watching her sprint off to her room, already muttering to herself.

It’s when, later on, he’s taking off his jeans that he notices it. A scrap piece of paper in his back pocket with a number scribbled wildly onto it:

07457398278 , maria- the maid.

He frowned and then stared at it properly. The maid? The same maid who had practically scrutinised him as he stood hesitantly in Eric’s daunting living room, chewing her gum like a bad habit. The only other girl to ever slip notes into his pockets was Ruby and look how that had ended up.

Was it possible that Maria- liked him ? Was it possible that when she had asked him over to visit Diana, it was only under the guise of seeing him again? He made a face and sat down on his bed, relishing the way the mattress sunk beneath him-it felt something like power.

He began to rip the note slowly, the tear slicing through the paper and nearing the number zero before he paused. It would give him a chance to see Eric more. The other side of Eric. Not the one who looked straight past him but the one who felt slightly embarrassed and unsure, the way Dele felt most of the time.

He sat up slightly with a sense of direction, assurance. He could play this game too . He could pretend he was there to see Maria and then-even if Eric despised the sight of him, there would be no legitimate reason for Eric to kick Dele out, not if both Maria and Diana liked him and then-and then , what?

He knew Eric’s big secret now, the reason he left early every time, what more did he want? Why wasn’t he satisfied with that? He lay back on his bed feeling both frustrated and determined, a hybrid mix of fear and the unknown, an underlying sense of excitement and thrill.

Kyle barged in at that very minute, a moody look gracing his face. ‘’Since when was Vardy back?’’ He demands, kissing his teeth.

‘’Since he resorted to selling weed to half the kids at our school.’’ Dele replies instinctively, fingers still tracing the numbers of Maria’s note.

Kyle pauses. ‘’Wait, that was him?’’

Dele sniggers. ‘’The one and only.’’

Kyle looks dumbfounded for a minute and then laughs along with Dele. ‘’Wow .’’

‘’Care kids are the ones who are most fucked up.’’ Dele muses. He has no doubt about it. He’s living proof.

‘’That may be so,’’ Kyle says, ‘’But apparently universities have got quotas for us now. Queen Mary here I come, baby.’’

‘’ Queen Mary ? I thought your thing was football?’’

‘’It is.’’ Kyle shrugs, attempting halfheartedly now to arrange his school bag for the next day. ‘’But, I need a degree just in case... Mum and Dad say it's good to have a plan B.’’

The phrase makes Dele’s toes curl. ‘’ Mum and Dad.’’ he scorns.

‘’I don’t have time to play this game with you, Del.’’ Kyle sighs. ‘’Just be happy for me right now.’’

And Dele’s steely silence is his answer.

++

His phone call with Maria is nice. She had a flirtatious tone to her voice, the same way Ruby’s had been before they’d become official. She invites him over on the Saturday at noon with a type of ease unknown to him. He wants to ask if Eric is aware of this, if he’s opposed to it, if he’s annoyed or even embarrassed again but he chickens out.

He gets up at around seven and showers for extra long, in love with the hot steaming water which usually evaded him. He’s at bliss for around twenty minutes before the next person is knocking on the door and asking him to get out. He obliges, expecting to face Stacey or Jamie or even Jesse but it’s Meghan . And she looks - different. Her face is so open, hair tied back into a ponytail and her eyes are lit up, her lips drawn into a smile.

‘’ Meghan.’’ he splutters, droplets of water streaming down his neck.

‘’Do you want to catch flies or something?’’ she says softly with a laugh.

He hasn’t heard her speak in months and even then her words were limited to monosyllabic phrases. Even so, her eyes are too bright and his first thought is Jamie .

‘’Was it Jamie?’’ he demands, ‘’What did he give you? Maybe it was a crap idea for him to come back-’’

‘’ No.’’ Meghan says firmly and Dele shuts up, suddenly more aware of how quiet the house is. No one woke up this early on a Saturday. ‘’It’s not him.’’ she continues. ‘’ It’s me . I’m wasting away my life in that fucking room upstairs. And life’s too short, so.’’ She shrugs. ‘’So I’m going to have fun today.’’

He couldn’t help but be skeptical;he was supposed to believe that magically somewhere along the line of her eighteen years Meghan had woken up and decided that life was too short? There must have been some sort of catalyst for her change but he decides not to question it because despite the strangeness, it was actually nice to see Meghan happy.

‘’Ok-uh-’’ he struggles to find the words. ‘’So where are you going? Stacey will be so-’’

‘’You can’t tell Stacey.’’ Meghan says quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder. It occurs to him that this is sort of weird- Dele’s only got his towel wrapped around his bottom half and Meghan was in her white bathrobe. And yet it didn’t feel like a sexual moment at all- not to him. ‘’I’m serious, Dele. You know she won’t let me go anywhere. That’s why I had to wake up at this time. She won’t let me go anywhere or do anything . You understand, right?’’

And Meghan wasn’t wrong at all, Stacey watched Meghan like a hawk or an owl but she had good reason for doing so. Meghan squeezed his shoulder slightly, her eyes looking pleadingly into his.

He sighed. ‘’Fine-but. Don’t do anything stupid.’’

‘’ Thank you .’’ she said, smiling slightly.

Dele nodded and headed back towards his room, the coldness a sharp contrast to the heat inside the bathroom.

‘’And what about you, Dele?’’ Meghan asked from behind him, her tone curious now. ‘’Where are you going?’’

‘’Just a friend's house.’’ He managed to say as calmly as he could.

He wasn’t calm as he attempted to dress up. He was nervous to see Eric after that night. Surely, Eric couldn't go back to hating him now that Dele knew about his mum? That’s what he hoped so anyways. He settled on a plain white t-shirt and black jeans, covering himself with deodorant.

He stole a glance at Kyle who was snoring on the bed across the room, his mouth open and arms spread wide, a picture of pure damn bliss.

++

Even though he knew Maria had said to get there at noon, he ended up arriving at around ten a.m, slowing his pace as he got into the Westminster area, taking in the sweet breeze. Across the road, a couple were walking their dog and smiled over at him. Dele couldn’t find himself to smile back in time, completely caught off-guard. In East London, people didn't just innocently smile at you. But he was quickly realising that a lot of things here weren't like East London.

The door opened after his first ring of the doorbell and Maria stood there in a vest and shorts, clearly having just woken up. Her brown hair tumbled past her shoulders. In truth, she was really pretty and attractive- the sort of girl Kyle would glance twice at despite the age difference.

She frowned at him playfully. ‘’What is this called-fashionably early?’’

He smirked and shrugged. ‘’Got nothing better to do.’’

She eventually ushered him in out of the cold and they chatted as he hung his coat on one of the pegs near the door. He quickly learnt that she was a pretty blunt person- calling him attractive within the first couple of minutes- and also that she had no idea he had a girlfriend, evidently shown by the way she referred to Ruby offhandedly as only Eric’s friend when briefly discussing Eric’s birthday party. That meant that Dele was clearly pretty shit at showing affection but it also meant that Eric hadn’t said Ruby was Dele’s girlfriend either.

‘’I’m going to go tidy myself up," she glanced down at herself as she said so. "I’m a complete mess.’’ She laughed, touching his arm briefly as she ran up the stairs. When had he given off vibes that he was interested? Because the way she was acting, meant she clearly believed that he was . The only time he had looked at her was when watching Eric walk off.

He stood awkwardly for a second before glancing at the bookshelf in the side of the living room. There were a range of classics and moderns including Noughts and Crosses by Malorie Blackman.

It was weird, because Dele remembered reading that book when he was nine- he’d snuck it out of the mature section in the library and hadn’t understood anything past the fact that Sephy was black and at a top of the racially stratified society, whilst Callum was white and at the bottom. But he would have liked to read it again now-almost as an adult, because he’d understand everything in the dystopian novel that Blackman was trying to portray much more clearly.

He hears Eric behind him before he sees him, knowing the footsteps behind him couldn’t have been Maria’s- she couldn't have come back so soon. Dele, not knowing what to do with his hands, grabs Malorie Blackman’s novel tight, finding that the pages are practically yellow with wear, probably being read a numerous amount of times. ‘’Could I borrow this?’’ he finds himself asking, turning around to face Eric.

He wishes he hadn’t. It isn’t nice or fair-it doesn’t work for Dele to convince himself that he was into girls when Eric looked so casually good for ten in the morning. He was wearing a light blue t-shirt that complemented his white skin and even bluer eyes and grey joggers that hugged his slim legs, his blonde hair ruffled like he’d tossed and turned all night in his sleep. Or, another voice suggested, because he’d likely had sex with John who may even have been upstairs. He stood up straighter with the possibility of John being around. Fuck. How could he not have thought of that?

Eric doesn’t look angry or mad, moreso reserved. That’s somehow worse. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ he asks vaguely, ignoring Dele’s question completely.

‘’Maria invited-’’

‘’I know." Eric waves away his answer. "But what are you actually doing here? What do you want?’’

‘’To see how your mum’s getting on.’’ He replies, not sure how safe a topic that was in this instance.

Eric’s jaw twitches slightly and then he laughs cynically. ‘’Come to see the circus, have you? I bet you find it hilarious that the posh tosh’s mum is dying- not so invincible now are we, just mere mortals like the rest of you lot .’’

‘’ No -’’ Dele says horrified. ‘’What sort of fucked up conclusion is that?’’

‘’You got anything better?’’ Eric asks, folding his arms.

I wanted to be closer to you. But he knows that's a worse answer, a much worse answer. So he keeps quiet.

‘’ I thought so.’’ Eric says, sounding sure, nodding to himself. He’s self-convinced that Dele is some sort of twisted arsehole who revels in other people’s misery. ‘’Well, not everyone gets to keep their parents, Dele.’’ He continues, adopting a self-righteous tone, scolding Dele like he’s a little kid. He thinks he’s got the moral high ground now. But he’ll be the same as Dele soon. They both won’t have any parents. ‘’And I get that they don’t teach much at those state schools but- all I want is privacy with me and my mum. You don’t understand what it’s like to face the prospect of not having any parent-’’

"That's not true." Dele says quietly. He's not sure if Eric hears him or not but he doesn't stop talking.

"You didn't lose your Dad when you were a kid on Father's Day when everyone was out with their families and then a decade later, watch your Mum fade right in front of you…" Eric cuts himself off, probably surprised at how fast he's speaking, at how all the words are tumbling out uncontrollably, like he had forgotten who he was talking to and was seeing Dele again for the first time, remembering that they aren't even friends. But Dele thinks that, even if they aren't friends, Eric isn't the first person to have no parents and he certainly wasn't going to be the last.

"Yeah, life sucks doesn't it." Dele says, glancing down at the book that he's still holding and placing it back on the shelf. Eric gives him a strange look. "But spare me the lecture, though. I've understood that prospect my whole life. I'm in a fucked up care home and I don't know who my parents are-don't even want to but. ..your mum in those few hours was the closest mother figure I’ve ever had. I wanted to be closer to that feeling.’’ and you. ‘’So yeah, that's why I'm here. Is that a good enough reason?’’

The calmness with which he speaks doesn't reflect the way in which his hands are shaking and his toes are curling into the sole of his shoes. He’s never told anyone that before. Ever. And the first person he told was Eric fucking Dier of all people.

Eric peers at him underneath his eyelashes. "You're in care ? I wouldn't have been able to tell."

"What does that mean?" Dele says, making a face. "Were you expecting some feral child?"

"Something like that." He says bluntly.

Dele is offended to be honest. As much as he hated the system himself, he felt the urge to defend not only himself but Ella, Kyle, Jesse and Meghan who weren't a bunch of fucked up animals for God's sake. "Well then change your expectations." He can't help but snap.

Eric raises one brow in surprise. Maria is behind Eric now; having ‘’tidied up’’, her hair in a slick bun, an apron on as she prepares for her job; he doesn’t know how much she heard but the grin on her face would suggest little to nothing.

‘’You guys alright?’’ she says, her tone bubbly.

Eric is staring at him, really staring at him and despite it all- Dele feels goosebumps on his arms. He shakes the feeling and forces a smile onto his face as he stares at Maria. ‘’All good.’’ Dele says.

‘’I was gonna whip up some breakfast.’’ she says, gesturing with her head for Dele to follow and he does without questioning, grateful to get away from Eric’s gaze.

In some ways this meant that they were even. Dele knew Eric’s secret and Eric knew Dele’s. Someone knew Dele’s secret. There was a part of him that felt slightly lifted- a burden less heavy to carry.

Maria grills some sausages with toast and they watch a couple of Netflix shows until noon. Later, Diana wakes up and looks pleased to see him, the skin underneath her eyelids darker than they were last time. She rambles on about her favourite season of the X Factor which was 2008 with Alexandra Burke winning and Dele tells her that he’s never seen it. She’s appalled and playfully labels him as a feral child who’s escaped from the woods, the label hurts more than it should in the light of him and Eric's chat earlier.

In 2008 he had been starting year one in primary, his foster mum at the time had gotten him his first proper school shoes and polished them shiny black the day before. Of course he doesn’t remember anything about the bloody X-Factor. Somewhere along the line of constantly moving, it just wasn’t a priority.

Diana doesn’t talk about death. It's not in her vocabulary. She’s light as a feather, on cloud nine. But the reality is that her head is wrapped with a scarf and she doesn’t bother to wheel herself to the kitchen, she requests that the blinds be down because daylight is painful, takes her lunch from Maria in her room on the ground floor. Even so, Dele doesn’t mention it and smiles along with her at her jokes. Yes he’s a miserable cunt but even he wasn’t going to ruin the mood here. She was good at pretending, at ignoring things that she didn’t like. He saw where Eric got it from.

Eric comes down again at dinner, he looks surprised to see that Dele is still here and Dele himself is surprised that he's stayed this long but no one had asked him to leave yet and he wasn't going to turn down a free meal.

Maria dished spaghetti bolognese perfectly onto his plate, no one bit out of place. On the dining table there were the additional options of sour cream, pepper or added vegetables.

Maria went off to give Diana her dinner and it was five minutes later that Dele realised she wasn't returning because Diana ate in her room and from what he gathered Maria was the help and the help couldn't possibly dine at the same table with Eric fucking Dier. So it was just them two in Eric's huge dining room. The marble table was expensive looking, the silver cutlery had words carved into it. Dele's fork said Vogue.

He glanced up at Eric who was slurping up a long piece of spaghetti, his mouth forming an o shape suggestively. Dele stared at him. Was he doing that on purpose?

Eric caught his gaze. "Do you like it?" He asked, swallowing his food.

"What?" Dele said dumbly.

Eric snorted and Dele flushed. They both knew what each other had been thinking.

" The food." Eric emphasised, this time. "Do you like it?"

"Oh. Yeah." Dele said hurriedly. "It's nice."

Eric nodded. Dele stared at the fork again.

"You know, I don't get what my mum sees in you." Eric said after a while, leaning back in his seat and giving Dele a onceover. "She couldn't stop going on about you when you left the other day." He looked slightly miffed as he said so. It was weird because he'd just been laughing a minute ago - although admittedly he'd been laughing at Dele and not with him.

"For real?" Dele said, pleasantly surprised. "I really like your mum."

"Yeah but I mean.." Eric shrugs one shoulder. "There's nothing special about you..you can't play an instrument, you go to a state school, and you've worn that shirt three times."

Dele wants to retort that Eric had sadly been keeping count but it felt weird to start an argument with his gracious host whilst eating in his house so he diverted. "Don't you get tired of insulting me?" Dele said instead, placing down his cutlery.

Eric took a sip from the third edition of Couleurs du Sud Chardonnay (kindly translated by Maria as simply white wine) "Its constructive criticism." He corrects. "That's what John calls it."

"Right." Dele says, of course he had to bring up that idiot.

Eric disappeared to his room at some point and Dele drifted around the house, like a ghost still dragging his feet to leave.

There was something about being here in Westminster that made him feel lighter. Eric, Maria, Diana, Kate and Harry didn't know him the way Kyle or Jesse and the other kids at his school did. They didn't know that Dele was this loner kid at school or that it was compulsory for every black and brown boy to listen to rap and drill, there wasn't this mould that he had to fit into.

For crying out loud, Eric's house was littered with fucking Beethoven, and he had pink blinds in one of his rooms but he wasn't a faggot and a compliment in this world was being called beautiful rather than peng and Eric had openly admitted in a text that he sucked John's dick and only last week Kate was planning on going to a pride festival in June, when exams were over.

Maybe that's why he kept on coming back here, because it was some sort of haven to him.

++

"Won't your parents be worried?" Diana had asked, much later on as the sky had faded to an inky black outside. Parents , Dele sniggered.

"Probably." It wasn't like he had told Stacey where he was going either. With him and Meghan gone, there was a chance she'd start pulling her hair out. He felt slightly bad. "Definitely worried." He amended. It wasn't even that late, like 8PM but she hadn't seen him all day.

"I'll phone a cab." She suggested casually.

"No." Dele said, wilting of embarrassment. "The train is fine."

"Don't be ridiculous, it's no biggie. I insist."

A cab from here to where he lived would be close to seventy pounds. The figure alone was making him sweat. He didn't want to be some fucking charity case, he didn't even like asking for money or help of any form to be perfectly honest. "I appreciate it, really ." Dele says. "But I'll be good on the tube, thanks."

"Alright." She said,smiling at him. "Could you at least go tell Eric that I want to have a look at his report card? He keeps forgetting to give it to me."

Dele gritted his teeth, smiling on the outside. Eric was probably sick of the sight of him. Dele left her room and went towards the staircase. He felt like a messenger for a second- like the help. If he worked here he'd probably go insane by the simultaneous desire to both strangle and kiss Eric at once.

It's as he's nearing the landing that he hears the violin playing, its soft sound drifting to him from Eric’s room. He hasn’t been in this corridor since that night at Eric’s party when he’d stumbled across John and Eric kissing; that’s when Dele knew he didn’t even know how to kiss Ruby properly-not like that. Dele walks towards Eric’s room stopping in the doorway.

It was something classical and it wasn’t necessarily his style because Dele had always found the imperfection and rawness of rap and drill more fascinating. But this was definitely different, in a good way. It was calming . He’d seen the pictures of Eric playing at his school, but in real life he was able to see how deftly Eric’s fingers moved with the bow across the strings, how tightly his eyes were shut as he did so.

There was a half empty bottle of Chardonnay on his drawer and Dele wouldn't be surprised if he'd been drinking. Eric acted like he was constantly in a mid-life crisis rather than a privileged eighteen year old. The amount of times Dele had seen Eric drinking or with a spliff between his fingers was unbearable. If he wasn't rude, then he was high or drunk or all three at once.

"Hey." Dele says then, raising an eyebrow as Eric’s perfect melody comes to an ugly shriek in surprise, his fingers slipping from their tight grip on the bow. ‘’Sorry.’’ he adds, belatedly.

Eric stared at him. "Look who followed me again." There was a hint of humour to his words. "Like what you heard?" He asks expectantly, probably expecting Dele to gush about his musical talent.

So Dele made a show of shrugging. "Yeah it was alright, I guess."

Eric's jaw twitched. Dele knew the one thing the blondie couldn't stand was when people didn't trip over themselves in bowing before him. He was so caught up in the idea that every single thing he did had to be measured and perfect.

" Just alright?" He questioned.

"Yeah, that's about as good as it gets when you're following from a script." He gestured towards the stacks of white paper on the stand dotted with black lines and shapes.

‘’Because I need to know what I’m playing.’’

"I just think you could be a bit more spontaneous.'’ Dele teases, playing on Eric’s musical ego.

A look of profound determination flicks across his face and he quietly turns the stand away from him. ‘’Okay.’’ is all he says. He stands taller and closes his eyes and then his bow touches the strings.

Dele can tell its random and spontaneous by the look of uneasiness on Eric’s face, his teeth biting down nervously on his lip. He’s afraid of it not being perfect which Dele thinks is stupid. This was more frenzied and wild, the awkward clash between the g and f notes and whatever other letters existed in the violin world. This was better than the last.

Dele walks into the room whilst Eric is playing, remembering the red mural placed above the bed on the wall. It looks even creepier than the last time. There’s a couple of devils in the foreground and a child who looks like an angel is being swallowed up. It’s such an odd thing to have staring down at you every night. How the hell did Eric even sleep?

The room was wide and had a couple more A-Level books placed on a desk nearby. On the wall, behind the door, were pictures of Eric’s mum when she was healthier and younger - beautifully grasping onto a blonde haired man who had a cigarette poised in one finger and a small blue velvet box in the other. Was that Eric’s father? There were many variations of the couple together in different scenes and places ranging from Venice to Milan to New York.

The only other person in any pictures was John and there was a single one; John wasn’t looking at the camera, was caught off guard staring into space- and that was pinned to the wall too. Eric was evidently as obsessed with John as Dele was increasingly obsessed with Eric.

He turned to Eric who was still playing frantically but his eyes weren’t closed anymore and he was watching Dele, tracking the way the latter walked around his room, scrutinizing every detail. Eric stopped playing abruptly and they stood in a silence that overwhelmed Dele. That was incredible. But he doesn't say that.

"That was better than before." He says, instead.

‘’I’ve never played so badly .’’ Eric said, laughing at himself- it was probably an attempt to be scornful, to undermine Dele’s knowledge of what constituted as good but it was a weak attempt.

"That was amazing, really. " Dele admits. "I always thought violins were quite boring to be honest but.."

"But what?" Eric says, pushing him for an answer like they're on some sort of fucked up game show. Maybe this was the game. Cat and mouse, Hide and Seek, Dele and Eric. It was universally known that all the best games came in twos.

The thing with Eric was that he had two advantages going for him; he knew he was good looking, and he also probably knew that Dele was labouring some sort of crush on him, that's why he took it so far, pushed the boundaries, insulted him at ease or ignored him at will, he knew Dele would be right back ready for the next game. But there was a new level being introduced right here, right then in front of Dele. He could tell from the glint in Eric's eyes.

Eric lowered his black violin to his side and tilted his head. "But what?" He repeated again, taking a step forward.

Dele took a step back. "You make it more interesting, I guess." Dele replied lamely.

Eric took another step forward and Dele stood dead still.

Eric's eyes flicked behind him for the briefest of moments. Then Dele became aware that, for whatever reason, Eric was going to kiss him. Either as an expression of dislike or manipulation because he knew Dele was in the midst of a sexuality crisis, to balance their power dynamics or maybe just because Dele was there and John wasn’t- either way Eric leaned forward and their lips were touching.

Dele couldn’t breathe and sucked in his breath sharply as Eric opened his mouth a bit and then Dele was doing the same; imitating Eric’s actions blindly. A boy was kissing him. Eric was kissing him. Eric was leading the kiss, his nose nudging against Dele’s subtly telling him to change the angle. Dele changed the angle and Eric's violin brushed against his thigh. Fucking hell. He couldn’t breathe, his head was being pushed underwater and his lungs were being filled with want from the warmth of Eric's tongue but it was a suffocating type. The suffocating type. He was scared. The irony of him telling Eric to do something spontaneous and then backing away when Eric did-like a coward.

He pulled away first because he was suddenly overcome by an initial feeling of shame- ingrained into his soul telling him that this is so wrong but then the second wave of feelings hits, the feeling of seeing Kyle in his towel times a million, stomach twisting with the unexpected feeling of want. His cheeks felt hot.

He looked up, wondering what Eric was thinking but the blonde wasn't paying any attention to him, eyes staring behind Dele carefully to where John Stones was by the door.

The brunette knocked sarcastically, eyeing Dele. Dele couldn't tell if he had seen the kiss or not because he looked just as cocky and arrogant as ever in all black and a Gucci scarf coiled around his neck like a snake. "Nice of you to let in the homeless." John remarks boldly with a smirk.

"You're late." Eric says coolly, as if he hadn't just completely fucked Dele up with his stupid pink lips.

"I know, I'm sorry." He strides into the room, one arm sliding around Eric's waist. "Christian insisted on the seared scallops at the Empire Longue."

Dele made a face- what the hell was he talking about? He had a huge feeling of imposter syndrome.

"Why did you go to dinner with Eriksen?" Eric asks, crossing his arms and then after a carefully blank look crossing his face.

Dele needs to deliver Diana's message or he's at serious risk of being ignored completely because they were both preoccupied with each other. And Eric hadn't even looked at him. it was almost like he'd imagined the whole thing. He clears his throat and they both pause to spare him a glance. De ja vu much.

"Eric, your mum wants to see your report card."

"Right." Eric said, flashing a tiny smile in his direction. "Thanks."

Dele searched his face but Eric was carefully poised as ever. Is that it? You kiss me and then that's it? Did Eric practice his facial expressions in the mirror, did his boyfriend give him acting lessons? How could he look so calm? Wasn't he even concerned that John would find it weird that Dele was even here? Eric's blue eyes stared at him innocently.

Dele recoiled and left promptly, bidding goodbye to Diana and then Maria who winked at him on his way out. There was really only one phrase to sum all of that up: what the fuck was that?

++

Jesse and Kyle leap up as Dele enters the house, his head still spinning, his earphones in playing Dave. They both look at him, shouting but Dele can’t hear them so he unplugs his earphones and is surprised by how vocal they are.

‘’ Dele have you seen Meghan?’’ Jesse practically yells, slamming Dele back into reality. Her name almost makes his heart stop.

‘’What?’’ he says, even though he had heard them already.

‘’Stacey walked down to the police station some hours ago.’’ Kyle explains quickly. ‘’No one’s seen her since yesterday.’’

‘’Sounds familiar doesn’t it?’’ Dele says dryly, resorting to sarcasm to stop himself from shitting his pants.

‘’This is different.’’ Kyle says seriously. ‘’This is Meghan we’re talking about.’’

I’m going to have fun today , she had said this morning. Dele bit down hard on his lip. What had she meant by it? Why didn’t he question her? Why did he listen to her?

‘’Do you fucking know where she is or not?’’ Jesse demands.

Dele can’t answer, turning away to put on one of the lights, his heart hammering. If anything happened to her-it was on him. If she - he couldn’t even think properly. His behaviour dawns on the two of them slowly but surely.

‘’Of course he does.’’ Kyle whispers. ‘’Why else would he be acting like that?’’

‘’I don’t know where she is.’’ Dele insists. ‘’But-’’

‘’This isn’t the time for games.’’ Jesse says seriously, he’s never seen Jesse so serious.

‘’I saw her this morning at around seven. She looked happy. She said she was going to have - fun .’’

Now, as he says to out loud, he realises how stupid he was. Meghan was depressed, had been for years. Her change of heart didn’t make any fucking sense.

‘’And you let her go?’’ Kyle asks quietly.

This is worse. He wants them to scream at him, but their voices are getting quieter and quieter. ‘’She told me not to tell Stacey..’’ he says pathetically.

‘’And you listened?’’ Jesse adds. Its like he's under interrogation all at once and its overwhelming.

Dele shakes his head. ‘’I can’t do this right now.’’ he says, feeling sick for many many reasons. ‘’I can’t do this.’’ he says, standing and bolting up the stairs, balancing the guilt and fear he felt from allowing Meghan to leave on her own this morning to the fear and gratification he felt from kissing Eric. He doesn’t even make it to the sink before he throws up just in front of the bathroom door, Maria’s well prepared dinner going completely to waste.

This morning everything had been relatively fine and now-and now they evidently were not.

Ella and Meghan were taken away by social services a month ago today.

Meghan’s suicide attempt on Waterloo bridge had prompted a rapid re-assesment of their entire living situation by the local authorities. They had checked every single room in the house, every contact on Stacey’s phone, had taken them all individually for chats about how they felt to continue living here. Dele couldn’t find it in him to move to yet another foster home and Kyle and Jesse had felt exactly the same. They were all almost eighteen anyways , the man in the suit had reasoned to his reluctant female colleague. They’ll be out of here soon.

Meghan was being placed in a mental health unit in Chingford, she was deemed as mentally unstable- Stacey had told him -and the image was fucking weird, like Meghan was being locked away in a castle away from the rest of society.

Ella’s decision, on the other hand, was non-negotiable. They had quietly packed her stuff and taken her away. She didn’t even get to say goodbye properly. One day, Dele had come back from school and she had just been gone, when he’d just seen her that morning with bits of soap in her hair. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, at his other foster homes, kids got taken away all the time, either their parents wanted them back or they were moving somewhere else, it was a never ending cycle of movement and new names and new roommates.

But Ella had been different, she had meant a lot to all of them. And Dele had noticed that they hadn’t even packed her favourite board game of Snakes and Ladders- she wouldn’t even have that. He had cried silently that whole night, isolating himself into his bed. He tried to imagine her fear and anxiety and then realised he'd never be able to accurately capture her emotions. She had been brought up by Stacey basically her entire life- she viewed Stacey as a mum -she would have no idea what was going on.

The blame game shifted every so often.

When his moods were dark, he would blame Meghan and her fake smile that day outside of the bathroom whilst planning something horrific. Sometimes he thought that she was a terrible person, didn’t she think of the consequences of her actions? She’d fucked them all over and she was selfish for that.

And when his moods were really dark, often reeling from the times when Eric would make a snide remark about his own mum which disgusted him - when he’d call her selfish before storming off to his room- or when Eric kissed him in one breath but then John in the other -like he was fucking toying with him, when his moods were murky and he listened to the Weeknd, sometimes he hoped that Meghan would end up in hell. He hoped that she'd burn there. If that passerby hadn’t stopped her then maybe-

Mostly, though, he blamed himself. Meghan had been in an unstable state of mind since she was a child, she’d had a shit past, she was always on the edge - walking a tightrope. So he should have known better. He shouldn’t have been so naive, so stupid. And he couldn’t really blame her for that.

One month anniversary, he thought bitterly. The dinner table had been quiet that day, moreso than usual. Even Jesse didn’t have anything to contribute to the conversation, rushing through his meal so he didn’t have to sit here and feel his sanity fade. Stacey was quiet, her fork scraping against the plate, but it sounded more like feet on gravel and Kyle was avoiding eye contact with them all. Dele couldn’t even stomach any food, tapping his fingers against his thigh, anxiously.

Jamie was out somewhere partying as he did every fucking weekend, stumbling back at four a.m in the morning and waking them all up when he slammed open the fridge to guzzle down some milk.

‘’Why don’t you all just say it?’’ Dele realised belatedly that he’d spoken, that the words had tumbled out from his lips. Just say its my fault, just admit it.

‘’Say what?’’ Jesse said dumbly, taking that oblivious approach.

‘’Dele.’’ Stacey said carefully, there’d usually be a streak of paint on her cheeks but she hadn’t been painting. She hadn’t painted in a while.

‘’I’ll say it then.’’ Kyle says, chewing his spoon of rice harder than is necessary. ‘’It’ your fault.’’

‘’Kyle, for God's sake.’’ Stacey told him off with a look. ‘’This isn't helping anyone.’’

‘’That’s all I needed to hear.'’ Dele says, leaving the dining table with a flourish. No one stops him.

He’s alone in bed when Eric calls him, half an hour later. He pulls the duvet covers over his head, forming a sort of makeshift tent and snuggles his head against the pillow. The phone calls are sort of a thing, like randomly whenever Eric feels like it-sometimes Eric has called him whilst he's drunk but sometimes he's sober and that's when they have the most interesting conversations. Because Eric's actually smart and has opinions on the world: on politics, music, the long documentaries he watches on Hollywood's golden age. And Dele sometimes teases him about it because documentaries are usually an hour minimum, which meant Eric usually perched in front of his laptop with a bottle of Chardonnay to watch terrible voiceovers about Rita Heyworth's rise to fame. The image was amusing to him.

Eric tells him about Diana for a bit and then the violin, how he’s mastered Bach’s second volumes, how Harry and Kate went to the houses of parliament for a politics trip, and Harry graffitied the home secretary’s car without getting caught. Little interesting stories like that that take his mind off of things. He’d like to think that Eric’s being thoughtful, distrcting him on purpose because he knows that its been a month -because Dele told him last time.

His voice sounds muffled then so Dele asks, ‘’Where are you?’’ because he’s curious, of course, always curious about Eric.

‘’In bed.’’ Eric says, which makes sense because it sounds like he’s moving against his pillow and getting comfortable. In bed. He’s in bed. ‘’What about you?’’ this time its Eric’s turn to ask and he sounds like he’s smirking, like he already knows what Dele's going to say.

‘’I’m in bed as well.’’ he says quietly. ‘’ But I thought you’d be studying or something.’’

‘’I was but then I got bored. There’s only so many essays I can write about Shakespeare’s muse.’’

Dele laughs quietly, because Eric takes it so seriously but he’s got three pieces of homework due the neext day and yet here he is not moving an inch. They lapse into a silence then and as it lengthens Dele is becoming hyperaware of the fact that Eric told him that he was in bed. In bed.

The imagery itself was tempting. Eric on his back, blonde hair fanned out against his pillow like a halo even though he wasn't really an angel, legs spread against his bedsheets, palming himself throguh his boxers or even way past that already, touching himself gently. Eric's bed was huge too, he wouldn't have to limit himself or anything, he wouldn't have to hide anything because he didn't share a room with anyone the way Dele did. He could do whatever the hell he wanted in his room on his own. In his bed.

‘’What are you thinking about?’’ Eric asks casually and Dele almost splutters because his irrational thoughts belonged behind bars.

‘’Errr-’’ he drags it out, like a doofus.

‘’You can be honest.’’ he’s changing his tone subtly, but Dele notices, like he’s flirting almost but not quite, not openly flirting anyways. He hears Eric moving around again in the background and then Dele sighs. It’s not like he has to deal with Eric’s judgemental expressions like this, he can handle Eric’s voice alone. Its not like he has to deal with the lovely scent he has or how beautifully destructive his lips look when cured around the end of the joint.

‘’You.’’ he says. ‘’You..touching yourself.’’

Eric makes a noise of surprise ‘’That’s quite x-rated.’’ he says. He doesn't sound annoyed, though. ‘’Sounds a bit eighteen and over. And you’re only seventeen.’’

‘’I’m a mature seventeen.’’ Dele insists because there's only like six months between them.

‘’Yeah.’’ Eric says, words wrapped around a laugh. ‘’Alright.’’

‘’What?’’ Dele asks sharply, because he always feels two steps behind.

‘’I’ll do it. Just for you.’’ he can’t tell if Eric means it or not, but he can’t help but grab onto it. He could be playing around of course, he does that so much but Dele’s optimistic for once.

And then Eric makes a sound that’s quite breathy, a whisper of a moan and Dele cocoons himself underneath the duvet covers so he can savour these sounds, keep them all to himself. And its probably the most erotic seven minutes of his life as he listens with bated breath to Eric wanking himself off like the beautiful bastard he is. Dele’s hard, of course he is but he just wants to listen, just like this. He likes that Eric's really quiet, because it makes sense, that he never gives too much away. Even when he's pleasuring himself. And Eric’s breath hitches noticably when he comes and Dele suddenly despreately wants to see his face, how his lips and eyes react to the sensation and he lets out a breath he’s been holding in, his stomach burning with heat, heels of his feet digging into the bed.

‘’Okay.’’ he manages to say. ‘’That was cool.’’

‘'Cool, yeah? . ’’ Eric repeats humorously, his voice raspier. That was hot as fuck. Jesus, that was hot.

‘’Cool, yeah. I always enjoy our -chats.’’

Eric laughs at that and Dele realises that he likes the sound quite a lot actually. ‘’If thats what its called now. .’’ Eric says, then. He wonders whether Eric’s still got cum on his fingers or if he’s wiped it off already. ‘’Did you like it?’’ he says more quietly, its practically a whisper down the phone, he can picture Eric’s lips next to his ear and not miles away. It makes the world feel a bit smaller.

‘’Yeah.’’ he answers, matching Eric’s volume. "You know, you're always asking me that question. "

‘’I’m just waiting for you to admit it, Dele.’’

‘’Admit what?’’ he asks dumbly.

‘’That Ruby doesn’t make you feel like that. Not even a little bit.’’

He hates Eric in that moment for saying it, what they’d both probably been thinking. Its nice when thoughts stay thoughts, safe havens inside of brains because when they are said out loud everything becomes too real. Because playing pretend gets harder like this.

‘’We come from different worlds, you know.’’ Dele says.

He can’t just admit that. It'd be easy for Eric to say from his mansion, with people kissing his feet because he can drag a bow across a bloody violin but Dele hasn’t got the same sort of backing, the people are different. Its not really the same.

‘’Same planet, though.’’ Eric reminds him and Dele buries his head into the pillow, hating the conversation.

He’s not really sure what Eric wants. Why does he want Dele to admit it? For Dele’s sake or his? Is it just so he can be right about something else, so he can have a bit of entertainment when he’s bored. He realises that Eric is extremely irritating, a lot actually, purposefully, like he’s still not convinced that Dele’s there with Diana for the right reasons or that he’s jealous that he is. He’s not stupid and he can tell sometimes.

But a part of him also likes the fact that Eric’s a bit complex and multifaceted, he likes the challenge, that he has to work a bit harder to figure things out.

After their call, Kyle strolls into the room, humming loudly, the door flinging open and then he’s pulling the duvet off, exposing dele in the hot aftermath of listening to Eric Dier masturbting on the phone. His eyes are blinking frantically, trying to adjust to the blinding lights overhead.

‘’What the fuck are you doing under there?’ he questions, raising an eyebrow. ‘’And why are you always on the phone? ’’'

‘’None of your business.’’ he says, sitting up sharply.

‘’Who’s paying for your phone bill, though?’’ Kyle says pointedly, looking smug just because his parents had resorted to stuffing him with cash to make up for the seventeen years they’d missed. And Kyle’s easy to win over so the materialistic stuff is enough. But if that was Dele he wouldn’t take it.

‘’Give it a rest, Kyle.’’ Dele rolls his eyes.

‘’That’s what I’m trying to do.’’ he puts a hand forward as a sort of truce. ‘’I’m tired of arguing with you about Meghan and...basically everything else.’’ he blinks down at him sincerely, like he's calmed down a lot since the comment at the dinner table.

Dele sighs and takes his hand firmly. ‘’That’s nice to know.’’

‘’Besides,’’Kyle says. ‘’It’s Jamie we really should be ganging up against. He’s finished all the Cornflakes.’’

‘’Wasn’t the packet full just this morning?’’

‘’Exactly.’’ Kyle says, pointing at him. ‘’He’s a hazard, you know. Not only that but his room stinks of weed all the time.’’

Dele hums, thinking of when Eric had shared his joint, the heat of their bodies radiating off of each other and Eric watching him carefully, grinning when he coughed like it was something cute.

Jamie had quickly taken Ella’s room so he didn’t have to room with Jesse anymore, which just meant he had more of a license to watch porn and smoke.

‘’As long as he isn’t selling at the school anymore.’’ he says, eventually.

‘’Yeah.’’ Kyle agrees with a short laugh. ‘’There’s always that.’’

++

He’s at his locker, pulling out his maths books for his period one and two lessons, when Ruby appears beside him. She had straightened her hair and trimmed it close to her shoulders for the New Year. When did that happen? He hadn’t even noticed.

She wasn’t smiling the way she usually did around him, her red lips drawn into a serious line. ‘’Dele, we need to talk.’’ She said.

He was on edge immediately, shutting his locker shut. ‘’About what?’’ he asked as carefully as he could. Can you tell? Did Eric snitch to spite him? Can you tell, is it obvious?

‘’About us.’’

He sucks in a breath and rubs a hand through his hair. He’s already nervous. ‘’Actually- I think I’m late for my lesson.’’ he blurted, attempting to get away.

She blocked his way and smiled slightly, just a tilt of her lips. ‘’Since when did you give a fuck about punctuality?’’

She was right, of course. He had never cared.

‘’Look, I know, okay?’’ she said, her brown eyes shimmering at him. She took both of his hands in his and squeezed lightly.

He gulps and stares at his black Kickers. He’d been planning on conjuring up a lie but maybe it would have been less exhausting this way- if she just broke up with him, then it would be so much easier. ‘’Did Eric tell you?’’ He asks quietly. Eric's version of fun , he thought bitterly.

It was Ruby’s turn to frown, her eyebrows drawn together. ‘’What does Eric have to do with anything?’’ She says.

He backtracks immediately, knowing panickedly that he’s gotten it wrong. ‘’Wait, what are you talking about?’’

Ruby raises an eyebrow but then lets him off. ‘’ Prom , you idiot.’’ She says, fondly. ‘’I know you’re too nervous to ask me so I’m going to break tradition and ask you instead.’’

There’s the sound of giggles behind her and Dele realises that some of her friends are watching them- she’d probably told them in advance. One of the girls - Kezia - he was sure her name was, gave him a thumbs up and grinned excitedly.

‘’Prom.’’ Dele said, feeling bewildered. He’d forgotten all about it. It was weird to him that they were somehow in January. So much had happened. ‘’Isn’t that in July?’’

Ruby shrugged. ‘’All the more time for us to get ready.’’

‘’Right.’’ Dele said, nodding. ‘’ Right . Yeah. Course.’’ he added.

‘’Not the best with words, Dele.’’ she laughs quietly and leans up to kiss him but Dele can’t. He lets her have his cheek instead. She had kissed the same place as Eric.

He nods at her hair. ‘’I like it. It’s pretty.’’

‘’Thanks, babe.’’ she says. ‘’See you at lunch, my love!’’ she claims dramatically, curtseying with her short green pleated skirt. Her friends laugh and chatter excitedly as she joins them. Dele leans his head against his locker and sighs before heading towards his maths lesson.

++

He gets a text from Eric whilst he’s in P.E, halfway through changing into his sports kit. His heart raced at the notification, and he rushed to open it.

She’s gone.

He didn’t need to ask who he was talking about. He was still as he re-read the words over and over, as if his eyes were refusing to believe it. Even though it was inevitable, even though they had all known it was coming- there was still a part of him hoping for some sort of miracle. That it would magically get better. But it was over now. Her life was over. Just like that. With two measly fucking words.

He tries to call Eric, hunched over his sports bag but the blonde declines and in a way he’s sort of expecting it, really. He had a feeling that Eric was in his room right then instead of school, a spliff in his hand or a bottle of Whiskey on his bed, half open. He was going to get shit faced. He was going to push hmself right to the edge.

Don’t call. Don’t waste your time.

Its not a waste of time. Dele replies swiftly because Eric always fucking does this. Little snide comments. You don’t have to be alone.

I’m not.

He clenched his jaw and thought about John being there. He felt selfish for caring about it so much in the midst of a tragedy but John didn’t deserve to comfort him because he was barely there half the time. During their talks, Diana had said that John never really talked to her.

He tossed the phone into his bag, half grieving, half annoyed. There was movement on the other side of the locker room and Dele jumped to see Marcus Rashford blinking at him, halfway through pulling up his white socks. He waited for a question or a comment, who were you texting, why do you look so sad, but it never arrived which he was sort of grateful for. Marcus quietly got pulled his socks on and left to go into the sports hall, Dele following suit.

He wasn’t himself throughout the session and the coach had to keep calling him out, when his mind wandered off thinking about how Diana always gave the nicest hugs, how she could always bring a story vividly to life just with her words.

After the class’ game of football they all returned back to the locker rooms, sweaty and out of breath. Raheem and Jordan dressed back into their uniform in a hurry and left pretty quickly, allured by the prospect of sausages and mash for lunch. The place emptied pretty quickly but Dele took his time, half checking his phone for any updates from Eric. But there was nothing.

On his way out towards the canteen, Marcus caught up with him, his face still glowing with sweat. He’d scored a couple of goals in their football match earlier- Dele had noted that he was good. He’d never really noticed it before but Marcus was really skilled, he’d nutmegged a couple of them and could finish with ease. And then he’d come off the field and it was like a completely different person; his shoulders hunched and his face shy. Marcus smiled at him cautiously, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to. Like he was breaking whatever unwritten rules there were.

Dele raised an eyebrow when Marcus didn’t speak, the other boy staring at him nervously. ‘’Are..you okay?’’ Dele asked.

‘’- Yeah. Yeah.’’ he nodded frantically and gripped his rucksack. ‘’I was just going to say that - well, as a student ambassador we try to like - encourage people to get involved in events. Erm,’’ he swallowed hard, he was so nervous, ‘’ I was just wondering if you’d come for our Pride book collection event in the library next month.’’

‘’What?’’ Dele said, instinctively taking a step back. ‘’Why are you asking me?’’

‘’Not just you- a lot of people.’’ Marcus amended quickly, acknowledging the weirdly defensive vibe Dele was giving off. He needed to chill the fuck out. Dele took a deep breath.

’’You don’t have to come of course- I’m just getting the word out there.’’ and then Marcus smiled wryly, ‘’I think you can imagine it’s a tough event to sell.’’

Dele could definitely imagine so. ‘’I’ll think about it.’’ he said, although he had no plans on going.

If he went then there would be no going back. He would be gay gay . Like gay and trying to figure out about other people like him throughout literature, music and history. It would be torture. Or freedom. It would be big, would be scary either way. Although, he still sort of took a masochistic delight from being in a state of limbo that he found himself in; kissing Eric and liking it but also denying that that side of him existed. Maybe he was getting bored of playing limbo.

Dele watched Marcus walk away, sticking a couple of posters on the wall about the event, its rainbow coloured face of the LGBT flag gracing the front. And then, in the same moment, a couple of boys bounding down the corridor from year twelve tore it down, their faces etched with disgust, ruining all of Marcus’ good work.

++

The canteen is a mess. It's a loud, bumbling, awkward, frenzied clash of eleven to eighteen year olds all in different stages of their lives.

And Dele didn’t usually come here, but Ruby had said they would hang today at lunch.

A lot of people had been talking about her stylish haircut in maths that morning, some girls even labelling her as a fashion icon. In one of their conversations, Eric had mentioned that she had been exactly like that at St. Andrews. A trend setter. The it girl. Her own Blair Waldorf.

He stood there, tray full of macaroni and cheese in his hands, glancing around, feeling a little silly as around him people grabbed their lunch and sat comfortably with their friends, grins on their faces, talking about Netflix and sex and teachers and Stormzy.

Raheem was with Jordan and his other friends, their faces relaxed as they joked about the NBA and Arsenal’s rubbish form that season. His eyes suddenly clocked Jesse, sat near the middle of the room with his friends- a mixture of boys and girls. One of the girls was Adaobi - she’d been in his english literature classes during GCSE’s, he’d sat next to her once. She used to wear wigs and extensions but at some point she’d shaved all her hair off. She had dated Raheem for a while before breaking up with him. ‘’He likes my wigs more than he likes me.’’ She had said, when people had asked. At some point her whole friendship group embraced their Afro-centric features as acts of black consciousness, proudly flaunting their natural hair and names of their heritage and background. It was no wonder Jesse had become woke woke.

‘’This is some bullshit,’’ he’d said back in September when looking at the topics he’d be learning for history. ‘’You’d think all the blacks arrived during the 1960’s.’’

Dele made a decision to go sit with them as he’d been stood there for what felt like ages and couldn’t find Ruby. The table looked up at his presence including Jesse who looked surprised.

‘’Hey,’’ Dele said, taking a seat next to Jesse.

‘’Err- hi.’’ Paul said, tilting his head to look at Dele, he’d dyed his hair red that week.

Dele braced himself for an awkward silence but it never came, they continued with their conversation. Jesse nudged his leg underneath the table. Dele looked at him expectantly. ‘’You okay?’’ He asked quietly.

‘’Yeah, I just couldn’t find Ruby-’’

‘’No, I mean are you okay?’’

‘’Oh,’’ Dele said. No one never really asked him that. Questions were never that simple anymore so it was nice to be asked. ‘’Could be better, I guess.’’ he said, surprisingly honest.

Jesse nodded contemplatively. He seemed like the only person who wasn’t mad at him, even though he was just as close to Ella as Dele was - maybe even closer.

‘’Look, I’m not saying that I wouldn’t date a white guy..’’ Adaobi was saying as she chewed a piece of sausage. ‘’I’d just be extremely reluctant to.’’

‘’Just say it with your chest.’’ Tobi said, rolling his eyes. ‘’It would be counter intuitive wouldn’t you say? Is that white person really going to march down the streets with you supporting BLM?’’

Dele’s ears pricked up at the conversation, surprised at the bluntness of their tones. Did they really believe that? ‘’Isn’t that a bit stereotypical?’’ he found himself saying, thinking of Kate and Harry who were hyper-conscious of the social issues disproportionately affecting ethnic minorities. Thinking of Eric who was more interested in researching Shakespeare's muse than any of his plays, just because he'd seen Emilia once. Because he also admired Dorothy Dandridge's role in changing the climate of Hollywood for black actresses in the 1950s.

They all turned as one to look at him, like they'd forgotten he was there for a second.

‘’Don’t mind him,’’ Paul said coolly, dismissing his comment. ‘’He’s dating one of them.’’

One of them?

‘’Who, Ruby?’’ Octavia chips in, chewing her gum, her kinky hair held back firmly with a headband.

‘’Ruby Mae.’’ Jesse confirms, although not with any venom. He's looking at Dele a bit sympathetically, like he's dug himself a hole here.

‘’Ruby isn’t like that.’’ Dele says, slightly defensive. It’s true.

‘’Oh please, Dele.’’ Adaobi raises an eyebrow and bats away his comment with a wave of finger. ‘’Who’s side are you on?’’

Dele stared at them all with a frown. ‘’Side? I’m mixed race.’’

‘’Sure.’’ Tobi concedes. ‘’But the feds don’t care about that. So you need to choose.’’

‘’Sounds like a bit like bullshit.’’ Dele shook his head, refusing to answer. Choose what exactly? To be black or to be white? What did that even mean?

‘’You say that now, Dele.’’ Jesse says, like he's about to conclude the conversation with all the knowledge he's borrowed from Huffington Post online articles, ‘’Because we’re cocooned within this school where everyone looks like us. But wait till we grow up- see the workplace. Things are different. I think its better to ask the tough questions now.’’

Dele looked at him exasperatedly, he was convinced everything they were saying was absolute rubbish. ‘’You guys are all conspiracists, anyways.’’ He said, shaking his head, grabbing his tray and getting up to leave.

The reason he was so triggered wasn’t necessarily to do with Ruby but Eric . The possibility of Eric seeing him the way they had so vividly described. Did Eric see him as a black teenager and the connotations that came with that. When they had kissed did Eric think he was kissing a black boy ? There was also a stubborn part of him that didn't want anything to ruin the image of Eric that he was building up in his head; smart, talented - only a little cold. But there was good reason for that. He just needed someone to lean on, and Dele thought it could be him.

++

A couple of weeks later, Dele gets the invitation to Diana’s funeral. It comes as a text from Eric. There are no pleasantries, just the date and the location and a: wear a suit at the end.

He approaches Stacey tentatively to ask for some pocket money whilst she prepares breakfast.

‘’Sure.’’ she says, too easily, as she turns the egg on the frying pan.

‘’That’s it?’’ he asks. He had been preparing to beg.

‘’My duty as a foster mum is to make you all happy.’’ she parrots, with a self-deprecating laugh. ‘’Meghan obviously wasn’t so I failed there. I can’t do that again.’’

Dele sighs, his hands finding the table. ‘’Stacey..I’m sorry.’’

‘’I’m not blaming you.’’ She says sharply, her short blonde hair flicking as she shakes her head. ‘’ I’m just - still upset about all of it. I miss my girls.’’ her voice cracked and she hid her face from him. ‘’There's £40 on the counter.’’

He nodded slowly, backing away grabbing the four ten pound notes.

‘’It’s not your fault, you know.’’ Stacey said, suddenly. Dele glanced back and met her strong blue-eyed gaze. ‘’It’s unfortunate but-don’t blame yourself.’’ she says firmly.It makes him feel better.

He’s quick at John Lewis, grabbing a navy blue suit on discount and dropping the matching tie at the till because it's too damn expensive.

He deliberately doesn’t go to the church service, he can picture himself suffocating from the sombre mood and the sight of Diana’s coffin either open or closed is too much to bear. Oddly enough, he doesn’t know anyone who’s died before. But that may just have been because he didn’t really know many people. Once he’s on the train, he thinks of what he’ll say to Eric, how he’ll be feeling, whether Eric’s going to have red eyes from the tears or the weed. It would be typical if it was more so the latter.

The venue is a hall in Westminster with lots of pretty flowers either side of a driveway littered with expensive cars from Bentlys to Fords. He sees Eric first when he gets inside, on stage playing the violin to all the people in the room. It's like when Dele had gone to Eric’s party and he’d been surrounded by a sea of white- the only brown face in the room. It’s like that now. He couldn’t help but wonder how they saw him, thinking about Tobi’s words. Was he black to them?

Fancy black hats and dresses and suits and skirts are the clothes many decided on. It's mostly an older crowd-obviously -with experienced faces and high noses. On second thoughts, he thinks he should have chosen a black suit instead- now he stands out for two reasons.

On a wooden raised platform, Eric plays Ave Maria on his violin, his eyes shut, his white skin contrasting beautifully with his coal black suit and polished black shoes.

Dele sucks in a breath. He’s so entranced that he doesn’t even notice a white woman staring at him intently until some moments later. Her hair is a fair shade of blonde, pinned back from her face, her eyes blue but not like Eric’s - slightly lighter. She looks to be in her late 40’s and there’s a couple of lines on her face that give away her age. Her black dress trails down to her ankles where she has black heels fitted on. Dele doesn’t know what her problem is.

If he continues to stare right back, is he in the wrong? If he confronts her is he aggressive? If he does nothing is he a coward? None of these scenarios changed the way she was staring at him, as if confused and yet angry all in one sentence.

Dele made the decision to look away, back to Eric who was finishing the last note, dragging it out, an ode to the beauty of many Catholic songs. The room clapped politely, just as aware as Dele how brilliantly it was, but also remembering the occasion.

Eric went to put away his violin back into his case and Dele took the chance to go say hi. Except everyone else was thinking the same thing and he found himself being pushed back by all of Eric’s assumedly relatives and friends, their voices sympathetic and hushed, handing him various expensive gifts. Dele cursed silently, realising just then that he hadn’t brought anything with him. How stupid.

As Eric was surrounded, Dele went to get a drink, pouring himself water rather than the other option of vodka or the more fruity punch that was offered. He noticed a large proportion of the vodka bottle had been cut in half, already.

‘’Hey.’’ Eric said, beside him suddenly. Dele almost dropped his glass and Eric’s lips quirked.

''Hey.'' Dele replied.

‘’I like your suit,’’ Eric added, pouring himself some water too. Dele was pleasantly surprised. ‘’It’s not as miserable as black.’’

‘’Thanks,’’ Dele said, flicking a piece of lint off his blazer. ‘’I thought you’d want the vodka, though.’’ he admitted.

‘’I do but-’’ he glanced down. ‘’I’m a sad drunk right? And I’m already sad so that would just be like..too much sadness.’’

‘’Right.’’ Dele nodded.

Half of him wanted to bring up how Eric had been ignoring his texts and how- when he did text -how standoffish he came across but it seemed like a selfish thing to say considering where they were and why they were here.

‘’You’re not gonna go see Ruby?’’ Eric asked conversationally.

‘’I didn’t know she was here.’’ Dele said, looking around. Eric nodded towards the other side of the room where Ruby was talking intensely with Kate, the both of them dressed in black. ‘’I’m good here, I think.’’ He shrugged, glancing at Eric slightly.

Eric was staring at him softly, a small smile worming its way onto his face. ‘’You’re too nice to me, Dele.’’

‘’Maybe try being nice back?’’ Dele said, half jokingly.

John appeared on the raised platform at the front, tapping the mic and tearing his attention away from Eric. John ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. A hush descended amongst the guests. ‘’I’m sure most of you know who I am,’’ he began and Dele couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Eric caught him and sniggered.

‘’But in case you don’t, I’m John - a close friend of Eric’s’’ There was some laughter and some stiff upper lips. Why hadn’t he said boyfriend, Dele couldn’t help but wonder.

‘’I know for a fact that Diana would feel blessed to have so many of you here. At one point she impacted every single one of our lives. When Eric first introduced me to Diana, I remember being nervous. I had to impress her. I went to Waitrose and got some roses.’’ he paused dramatically, knowing the audience was hanging onto every word. ‘’I thought she’d like the gesture but then she told me she told me she was allergic and I looked stupid with about a hundred damn flowers fresh out the shop.’’

Laughter.

Eric leaned close from behind him, lips close to his ear. ‘’Never happened.’’ he said, quietly.

‘’And I almost believed him.’’ Dele said, goosebumps because of Eric’s light breath.

‘’Despite the initial setback, Diana and I became really close. I saw her as my second mum in a way. She was an amazing person and I miss her as I’m sure we all do. So I’d like to make a toast to Diana Dier.’’ he raises his glass.

They all raise their glasses back. ‘’To Diana.’’ they all chorus as one.

‘’Was any of that true?’’ he asks Eric, once it's over.

‘’John’s the best actor there is.’’ Eric responds, finishing his glass with a long gulp.

Glancing around, Dele caught the gaze of that blonde woman from earlier. He nudged Eric gently. ‘’Who is she? She kept looking at me earlier.’’

Eric followed the direction of his nod and stiffened slightly. Dele only noticed because he was hyper aware of every action Eric made seeing as they were only inches apart. ‘’Oh.’’ Eric said. ‘’Kate’s mum.’’

Dele nodded absentmindedly. All this time of going to Kate’s house, he’d never actually seen her mum. So what was her problem, then?

‘’Do you wanna get out of here?’’ Eric said, suddenly.

‘’Yeah.’’ Dele said immediately, no questions asked.

Eric put down his glass and grabbed his violin case from the back of the room and they snuck out together.

++

Eric takes him to a graveyard nearby.

It's definitely not what Dele had been imagining when Eric had said with a spark in his eye ‘’do you want to get out of here. ’’

He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of hundreds of headstones, all slowly being eaten up the ever growing green grass. It’s a terrifying sight. Ahead of him, Eric is looking around carefully, his black violin case bumping against his knee. His mum - Dele realises belatedly like an idiot. They were here to see his mum. Or at least, where she had been buried. He’s even more grateful that he didn’t go to the church service now. His stomach feels sick at the thought of the soil being heaved on top of her coffin.

He gulps hard and looks at the closest headstone near him, a woman named Liezel who died in 1956. Dele wonders what type of life she had, if she ever found the love of her life, how she had felt when the second world war ended, if she ever had any children or not.

Eric turns back towards him, blue eyes focused and dark. ‘’I’m looking for my dad.’’ he says, quietly.

Oh.

‘’What was his name?’’ Dele asks.

‘’George.’’ Eric says, eyes flicking past dele to Liezel’s grave. Is he wondering about her life too? ‘’I used to know where it was but now I can’t find it. ‘’ He looks slightly frustrated, his cheeks flushed with the cold.

‘’Hey,’’ Dele says, striding forward. He takes Eric’s violin case from him because it looks too heavy for him and he's distracted. Eric lets him. ‘’We’ll find it, yeah?’’ He says determinedly.

Eric looks at him from under his lashes and Dele’s breath catches for the second fucking time that day. . ‘’Okay.’’ he says, nodding slightly. ‘’2009. That’s when he died.’’

‘’Okay,’’ Dele says, glancing around. His heart sinks as he does so. There were so many graves around them. He didn’t believe in ghosts but if he did he would've been shitting himself. ‘’When’s the last time you came here?’’

‘’About four years ago.’’ Eric said.

‘’And why did you stop coming?’’

‘’I don’t know.’’ He shrugged and bit on his bottom lip anxiously. ‘’I guess I just-forgot to? And I’m scared that I’ll forget my mum too. Forget to visit her.’’

Dele stared at him, surprised that Eric was being so open with him. Dele wasnt a fucking therapist, he didn’t know what to say in response so he hesitantly reached a hand out for Eric to take. Eric paused before he sighed and took Dele’s hand. They probably looked really stupid to any passing stranger but Dele’s hands were warm so he didn’t care. The thing was, no one knew him in Westminster, so he could do whatever the fuck he wanted really.

They walked in circles for what felt like ages, Dele eventually having to push for George’s middle name, a description of his headstone, was it in the middle or towards the main road? They eventually found it towards the middle, a marble grey tombstone with George’s name in cursive letters, a vase full of wilted flowers just in front, beloved husband and father.

The place was eerily quiet and all Dele could hear was his and Eric’s slow breaths, the mist in the air whenever they spoke. He thought Eric would go closer but he didn’t move an inch. And they were still holding hands.

Dele had an idea. He turned to face Eric. ‘’I think you should play.’’ he said, gesturing towards Eric’s violin.

‘’You’re crazy.’’ Eric scoffed softly with a laugh. ‘’Who even does that? In a graveyard? Seriously, Dele.’’

‘’What’s the issue?’’ Dele said, placing the case down on the grass and opening it up. ‘’No one’s even here.’’ he added.

‘’You’re here.’’ Eric said, reluctantly.

‘’Play anything you want I don’t care- I just thought it would be a good thing to do.’’

‘’This is so stupid.’’ Eric said, even though he had taken the violin from Dele, his hands brushing over it as if it were a baby. ‘

Dele realised he was probably embarrassed. ‘’I can turn around if you want.’’ He suggests.

Eric rolled his eyes. ‘’No, don’t do that. I’ll-it’s fine.’’ he steadied his posture, positioned his chin and then began to move the bow. It was Ave Maria again, but at a slower pace, more meticulous and soulful. He noted that Eric wasn’t shutting his eyes the way he usually did, he was playing directly to the tombstone to his father.

Dele relaxed himself and laid down on the grass stretching out his legs, aware his suit was creased but not caring. This was actually - nice. In the strangest of ways. And the contrast was interesting. Because like- how was it possible to be around the dead and yet feel so fucking alive?

Eric finished playing and Dele burst into obnoxiously loud applause which made Eric scowl although the grin on his lips betrayed him.

‘’Shut Up.’’ Eric said potently.

Dele cheered louder on purpose, even adding in a whoop. ‘’Encore! Encore!’’ his voice echoing arounf the grounds.

‘’Weirdo.’’ Eric said, although he was bending down to grin at him.

Dele threw his head back and laughed. ‘’I’m not kidding, though- that was great.’’ he decared it factually. ‘’Your dad would be proud, you know.’’

Eric smiled, wrinkling his nose and sat down next to Dele, his legs bumping into his accidentally. It could have been on purpose, even. He sort of braced himself for a comment from Eric, something snarky but it never came.

‘’This is so fucking weird and yet- I actually like it. It’s like-insanely brilliant.’’ Eric said instead, staring up at the sky, like he’s searching for non-existent stars. ''My dad never really got to see me play, so..That was nice.''

Dele brushes his arm lightly , gets his attention so he’s looking at him now. Eric glances down at his suit, picking at a piece of fluff and it shouldn’t feel sexual but it does. Why does everything feel so sexual?

‘’What’s your excuse now?’’ Eric says quietly. ‘’The first time; i kissed you. The second time; you weren’t thinking straight. So..what is it now?’’

Dele gulped hard, blinking down at Eric’s tie which isn’t as perfectly straight as it had been earlier. ‘’I think I’ve run out of excuses.’’ he admits, the truth feels sweet on his tongue. He wants Eric to taste it too.

And Eric doesnt shy away when he leans forward, like he was sort of expecting it. He can read Dele so well. The kiss is slow, its quiet and hushed like their both paying their respects to Diana. He thinks he's comforting Eric really, he's sorry for his loss and he's trying to express that with his lips. So its quite languid and Eric's tongue is almost lazy against his, like their re-creating a slower version of Ave Maria with their lips.

He savours every bit of it because he’s completely sober and he still wants it and Eric’s completely sober but he’s kissing him back and John isn’t here and neither is Ruby. There’s no one else here. It was just them and thousands of other souls. Almost like a secret. Dele was leading it, leaning heavily onto his right arm, sinking Eric back onto the grass so his posh suit becomes just as messed up as Dele’s is-maybe even more.

They pull apart and Dele takes a shaky, shallow breath, his fingers are so cold, they're freezing. He realised that he hadn't even brought a coat with him.

‘’I was with Maria.’’ Eric tells him, catching his breath, his cheeks flushed.

‘’What?’’ Dele says, pulling back so he doesn’t go cross eyed because they are so fucking close.

‘’When I texted you saying that I wasn’t alone. I was with her.’’ Not John not John not John. "We found her." Eric continued, still lying down. There was a small, wilted flower tangled in his hair, it looked kinda beautiful. "We just found her and she was.."

"Eric." He says, his breath forming wispy mini-clouds in front of his face. January was an unforgiving month.

"Shutup, Del." Eric says quietly. Theres no bite to it though. Theres no bite to anything. It occurs to him that he might never going to see Eric like this again, so soft and pliant, raw and vulnerable. "I just- I keep seeing it in my head."

Dele moves closer to him, slides across the grass, slides his hands in-between Eric's black blazer, the material silky against his hands.

"What are you doing?" Eric asks, frowning slightly but he doesn't push him away.

"I'm cold." He says truthfully. "Don't you feel it? The breeze."

"I feel it, yeah. I just don't really care."

"You could catch pneumonia, you know."

"I don't care about that either." Eric says adamantly.

"You don't mean that." Dele says confidently. Eric was understandably moody, it made sense.

Eric's silent then and Dele nudges their hands together, chasing some sort of warmth.

"You weren't joking about being cold." Eric comments, shivering slightly when their hands touch. He can't tell if its solely because of the weather or not.

"I'm not gonna stop coming over." Dele tells him. "That's not gonna change."

Even though he says it like a statement, hes sort of searching for permission to. He wants to know that Eric wants him there as much as Dele wants to be there. So he waits for Eric to do something. And for the longest time he doesn't do anything and they are just lying there, listening to each other breathing, the sound of a distant car across the road, Eric sniffing a bit because he's feeling the cold too.

And then Eric angles his body slightly towards him, his body language more open, hugging Dele back with steady arms, his hands just above his waist. He doesn't say anything but that's okay because its more than enough.

It was enough because like this, at this exact moment in time Dele could pretend he was free with his sexuality, that he wasn’t some kid from a care home, that he had some sort of future ahead of him planned the way Eric did. It occurred to him that it was a turning point. And despite all of the death around him both literally and theoretically, he could choose life , to live, to feel alive, permanently.

Eric comes to the solid conclusion that he’s just so fucking needy.

And it's like this- he’s doing okay. He can get through some of his history homework with a sober mind, stumble through his music prep with some Shostakovich soothing him in his earbuds but then he’ll pick up Othello and think of the time he went to watch the play live when he was eleven. When the smaller version of himself had been entranced by the lights and the makeup, the music that lingered in the background of the scenes between the actors. In his young, but sure, opinion, the orchestra had been the overlooked soul of the play of Othello, carrying it forward and leading the way.

Before Act Two, during the interlude, some musicians had taken the stage and played the violin for the audience. At this, Diana, his mother, had leaned forward slightly, suddenly more interested. ‘’That’s such an interesting instrument, isn’t it?’’ she had mused to Eric, before quickly being distracted when she had heard that the bar was open during the break. She had left, promising to be back in time for Act Two- just a quick drink and a quick cig- nothing major. Nothing out of the usual.

So Eric had heeded her word and waited. And waited. Then Act Two had begun. But he still had waited, losing track of the pace of the play, losing track of the storyline. Even after Othello had ended and the audience were throwing roses and yelling ‘’encore!’ he had stayed in his seat, very still. Even after everyone else had gone, he hadn’t moved. He would have waited some more if a member of staff hadn’t come over then, politely asking him to go home.

As he’d left the theatre, he had seen Diana then, chatting to a group of older looking men outside, laughing as smoke danced out of their breaths, laughing like she didn’t have a son right there who had been waiting for her so anxiously. It was one of the moments that had defined his relationship with his Mum.

And that's why he found Dele’s admiration of Diana borderline irritating .

Dele only knew a particular side of his mum, when she’d become noticeably nicer towards the end of her life. More concerned about his education, asking for his report cards, calling up his teachers- shit like that. Dele could wax lyrical about her, easily. He liked her carefree attitude and her enthusiasm, saying often that it was infectious. Or that it had been infectious. Dele missed her nostalgia about the X factor, he missed her smile. Sometimes it felt like Dele who’s mum had passed. They argued over her sometimes. It was petty and only on the days when the outside stress of upcoming exams prickled their skins and arguing, at least for Eric, helped to relieve such stress. Truthfully, Eric thought Dele was romanticising her; a widowed wife with a tragic end and a talented son whose end she would never see.

‘’Would you stop idolising her?’’ he’d snapped at Dele one day in particular, cutting off the younger boy’s monologue about Diana’s sense of humour.

Maria, sat across from him with just a chess board separating them, eyed Eric at his sudden outburst. She had agreed to indulge him in his lenient game of chess, silent as the two boys talked back and forth. Dele was sprawled comfortably on the couch watching them, watching Eric, really. His legs seemed to go for miles in those dark, faded jeans and his hair was freshly washed, it looked soft and curly. Dele raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard and then leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees, staring Eric down. He made Eric nervous in a good way. He made Eric want to run a hand through his hair three times instead of just the once. This quiet but lingering feeling of energy on the hairs of his skin ever since Dele had turned up in the morning, never officially invited but showing up anyways knowing Eric would let him in. Right now though, that lingering feeling of energy was spiked with just a little bit of annoyance.

‘’Eric.’’ Dele said after what felt like a lifetime of silence. ‘’What? What did I say wrong?’’ he asked bluntly.

Maria quietly played her queen piece and Eric made a sound of disapproval.

‘’Everything.’’ Eric breathed out deeply, biting down on his lip as Dele stood up sharply and crossed the room, crossed the distance between them and knelt in front of him, frowning slightly. ‘’She’s not a saint, alright?’’

The way Dele was looking at him carefully half made him want to abandon this half fledged argument all together and kiss him senseless because no one had ever looked at Eric so delicately, like he was something so precious. Like whatever was wrong, Dele wanted to smooth it out immediately, wanted to fix everything. But he was still sort of stubborn so he pushed that feeling down.

Dele hummed in thought. ‘’I never said she was, though, did I?’’ he sighed and expanded. ‘’She was just- nice to me , is all. She never treated me any different. She was fucking dying and-she was so upbeat about stuff. I just respect her a lot.’’

‘’There’s so much you don’t know about her.’’ Eric persisted, the memory of his trip to the theatre when he was young increasingly persistent. There was other things too, like how often she was never around when Eric’s dad died, out with men and friends from work more often than not. ‘’There’s a reason I looked for my dad’s grave at the funeral and not hers.’’

Dele’s eyes darkened and across from him and Maria stiffened. She was sort of used to the spikes in their relationship, the highs when Eric would lock his bedroom door so he could kiss Dele uninterrupted, so Dele’s moans wouldn’t be heard when Eric gave him a blowjob, when they talked until two am about things that didn't matter and things that did. Then there were times when Dele would snap at Eric’s spending habits on Gucci products, his excessive conspicuous consumption of it all. The vainness of it irritated him, when the class differences between them were glaringly obvious or Dele hated how much he smoked and wouldn’t kiss him when his fingers had danced with the Marlboro packets. Eric would get angry when Dele practically worshipped his mum-like he was doing now-or frustrated because Dele was still sort of closed off and didn’t want Eric anywhere near where he lived or his school or even his fucking area and it felt unfair , like a deal half done because Eric exchanged loads and he wouldn’t get the same back. It was so difficult, the whole falling in love thing; a thing that Eric realised was sort of inevitable at this stage. The only thing he could control was how he was going to land. It was fucking hard when they both had such shitty pasts. And it was harder when Eric didn’t really know how to tell Dele that his whole fucking life was a lie, that he knew more about his parents than he let on and that built tension too. The tension was there in Dele’s shoulders now, though as he sat in front of Eric, wrinkling his nose.

‘’That’s such a disgusting thing to say.’’ he said, seriously. ‘’Why would you say that?’’

‘’I’m just being honest.’’ Eric had said, shrugging. ‘’Would you prefer it if I had lied?’’

‘’What are you fucking -She was your mum , Eric.’’

‘’Don’t think she made that much of a difference.’’ Eric sniffed. ‘’I might as well have been an orphan from the start.’’

Close to home. Way too close to home. He knew it as soon as the words had settled into the air. Dele, who had practically grown up as an orphan. Dele’s jaw clenched and then he stood up and stalked out of the living room, slamming the door behind him and leaving Eric and Maria in a cold and prolonged silence.

Regret filled Eric immediately, filled him to the brim and he let out a sharp breath, pushing the chess board away from him as it was contagious. Fuck, he thought. Fuck.

‘’Are you self-destructing on purpose?’’ Maria spoke then, after observing the both of them.

'’I’m just -’’ Eric cut himself on after a failed attempt at forging his own defence. ‘’I don’t know.’’ he finished, honestly, pulling at the ends of his sweater. ‘’This is hard.’’ he added, knowing Maria would understand him.

‘’Only if you want it to be.’’ she said kindly. She leaned forward then as if she were going to tell him a secret. ‘’You know,’’ she began gently. ‘’Your mum struggled really bad after your dad died.’’

‘’I know.’’ Eric said gruffly, slightly rolling his eyes. That much was obvious. ‘’No, Eric- she was scared.’’ Maria nudged him, forcing him to look at her. ‘’She was depressed and terrified. That’s why she spent less time with you. Now I’m not trying to defend her but i just want you to understand. I also think you would feel a lot lighter in here,’’ she placed a hand on his chest firmly,’’ if you could let go of some of that anger towards her.’’ Then she leant backwards on her chair and crossed her arms. ‘’Just saying.’’ she shrugged and then grinned slightly. ‘’I won, by the way.’’

Eric smiled reluctantly as he realised belatedly that she had, in fact, won their little game of chess. He also realised she had won the conversation between them too. ‘’Is that going to go on your CV then?’’ he bantered.

‘’Of course.’’ Maria laughed. ‘’Not many can say they beat the Eric Dier at Chess, can they?’’

Eric laughed quietly, cheeks flushing warm until he settled down a bit more, feeling himself calm down. Now that he was thinking clearer he hated how he had pissed Dele off and pinched his own thighs realising he missed the warmth of Dele’s presence.

‘’Go and talk to him, then.’’ Maria said knowingly, rolling her eyes. ‘’Honestly you’re meant to be a genius aren’t you?’’

‘Stop teasing.’’ he said, standing up and stretching with a sigh. A sudden wave of tiredness struck him and he suddenly just wanted to curl up in his bed with the duvet covers. He left the living room and made his way upstairs knowing Dele would be somewhere brooding in one of them.

He found him upon opening the fourth bedroom, Dele was sat on the windowsill, a light from a car outside passing over his face illuminating the slope of his nose, the strength of his jaw before the car passed and his face was shrouded in darkness once again. He didn’t even glance up at Eric’s arrival.

‘’Del.’’ Eric called out softly. Dele didn’t respond. ‘’Del.’’ he said again, moving forward towards him after closing the door, grasping at the younger boy's waist and hugging him tightly. ‘’I’m so fucked-I didn’t mean it-promise I’m just-I’m sorry-’’

Dele was stiff in his arms and wasn’t hugging him back, wasn’t looking at him. ‘’Del.’’ Eric said again, quietly, blinking at him with blue eyes. He was so tired and regretful and he just wanted to sleep, he wanted Dele to spoon him from behind, he wanted Dele to touch him back, to envelop him with some sort of warmth. He wanted Dele to love him and all his fucked up flaws. ‘’’M sorry.’’ Eric whispered, squeezing him tighter. There’s silence. Eric leans in breathing in the familiar smell of Dele’s shirt, nosing at his neck. ‘’I wanted to hurt you.’’ he admits after a while.

‘’Why?’’ Dele spoke at last, finally turning to face him. Eric leaned in to kiss him and Dele obliged but then pulled back, grabbing Eric’s jaw firmly. ‘’Why?’’ he repeated.

‘’Because she hurt me.’’ he admitted and kissed Dele again, their tongues met and Eric’s heartbeat sped up as Dele’s other hand crept underneath his jumper, resting on his pale skin, whispers of forgiveness.

‘’How?’’ Dele asked, pulling back again.

‘’Left me alone in this big fucking house so much.’’ Eric said with a gulp, as Dele’s hand settled low at his waist, squeezing slightly. ‘’Made me feel like she didn’t want me for years. Until recently and I just-I can’t just forget that easily.’’

‘’I see.’’ Dele murmured as Eric kissed him again. He grabbed his blonde hair and pulled him back and Eric gasped, feeling needy and prickles of arousal. ‘’So just say that next time.’’

Eric nodded so fast he almost got whiplash, desperate to be close to Dele again. Was it possible to glue their bodies together?

‘’I want to be close to you’’ Eric whispered, honestly. It was the most sustained period of honesty he ever remembered having and really, it felt like the right time to tell Dele the truth. Because he deserved to know. And then after he’ll tell Kate because she deserves to know too. And they’ll all talk to Lilian who will explain everything. And Dele will know who his parents are but things won’t change because Dele will still be there for him, he’ll always pick Eric’s call, he’s always got time for him. He’ll grill Lilian on how the fuck Dele ended up in foster care and he’ll get this burden off his shoulders.

‘’You are close to me.’’ Dele said with a chuckle.

‘’Closer, then.’’ Eric said, shivering happily as Dele brought his other hand down to Eric’s waist. And he was meant to tell Dele, now, he swears he was, he really should’ve said something but he got distracted by the feeling of Dele kissing him and telling him it was okay and afterwards, when he used his coarse hands to rub both of their cocks together and Eric was distracted again. He was supposed to say something but he was too busy rutting upwards into Dele’s hands needily and moaning into his mouth and he was supposed to say something but he was too busy being close with Dele which was ironically driving them further apart.

++

Everyone was still talking about Dele and Eric at school.

It had been a hot topic that spread like wildfire around the school, from the sixth formers to the baby faced year sevens who ogled with excitement, jumping at the chance of gossiping on the violin prodigy. The mysterious curly haired boy with Eric with the bottle green uniform, when Eric had appeared out of nowhere and said ‘’He’s with me.’’ People found him interesting, fascinating, they loved his musical ability but they also took interest in his romantic life and many had loved him and John together; two stars drawn together, a true power couple. And now the illusion had been shattered. Because there had never been any real love between them. Nothing like laying on the grass and falling in love with someone’s hands, smooth brown skin under the sun and a hooded gaze.

‘’Eric, are you with us?’’ Miss Taylor’s voice was loud from the front of the classroom, a humorous look on her face. Teachers never got mad at him. He was the Oxford kid , after all, and therefore automatically the chosen one. He couldn’t put a foot wrong, in their eyes.

The rest of the class turned to look at him cheekily, taking the excuse to scrutinise him and suddenly Eric was subconsciously tugging at his tie, making sure it still looked pristine. Eric blinked up at her, tapping his pen on his desk. ‘’Of course.’’ he answered confidently and with clarity. He had once spent every single second with John, he knew how to turn the confidence on when it was required.

‘’Lovely.’’ Miss Taylor responded smoothly, moving on with a smile, her Othello copy wilted with wear in her hands.

Beside Eric, Jessie smirked. They’d been English partners all year. She was witty and smart and sharp tongued with long dark hair that often brushed against Eric’s arms. She lowered her voice. ‘’So are you experimenting or something?’’ she asked, pretending to read scene seven. They would ace the tests anyways, the lessons almost felt pointless.

‘’With what?’’ he asked half-listening. Jessie usually enjoyed small talk and although Eric usually indulged her he found most of their conversations boring.

‘’You know-with that boy..’’ she continued. ‘’He’s not exactly your type is he? He definitely doesn’t go to school around here and well- he doesn’t look like John, that’s all.’’

Eric paused, his eyes stuck on the word thee as what she was asking fully washed over him. He glanced at her. ‘’Don’t bullshit it.’’ he said bluntly, aware of her fucked up question but wanting her to have the balls to say what she really meant. Why go through the backdoor?

She tossed her shiny hair behind her straight shoulder and met her green eyes with his blue ones. ‘’Why are you dating a black boy?’’ she then asked, truthfully.

‘’He’s mixed.’’

‘’Same shit.’’ she waved her hand, lazily. ‘’It’s a complete step backwards from John. Personally, I don’t understand your thought process behind it. I mean, is he even going to university? Is his dad even around?’’

‘’Is my dad around?’’ Eric questions, slapping the stereotype back in her face.

Her mouth quivers and then she arranges it carefully so her eyebrows are still slanted. Regrouping. She was good at it. They all were. It was a damn private school, they were crafted into this. They were taught, had been taught how to handle any type of setback, any type of divergence that came their way. Persistence was their first language. Jessie was one of the most fluent.

They pretended to flick through the play as Miss Taylor walks past their desk, a whiff of her perfume strong.

‘’Is it true, then?’’ Jessie continued, because she loves the sound of her own voice and also because she was most probably genuinely curious and believed her curiosity was justified and valid. Because this was the product of too much privilege in life. Eric could see that now, he thinks he sort of got it. ‘’Does he have a big-’’

‘’Seriously?’’ Eric rolled his eyes.

‘’Well it seems like I’m the only one talking about the elephant in the room here. If anything, I deserve an award.’’ she said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms.

‘’I need a fucking smoke.’’ he muttered, making a face. It had been weeks since he’d last smoked and he realised in that instant as Mrs Taylor rambled on that it was getting to him.

Jessie grinned and flashed her lighter underneath the table as well as her pack of Mayfair’s. He reached forward instinctively and she pulled her hand back slightly, raising an eyebrow.

Eric stared at her before relenting. ‘’Yes its big and no im not experimenting.’’ and then he snatched the valuable possessions, stuffing it into the pockets of his navy blazer and asked for permission to go to the boys bathroom, ignoring Jessie’s little smirk as he went.

It was worth it either way, especially as Eric was by the window in the bathrooms exhaling softly, looking over the school grounds from the third floor with a whirring mind.

Of course Dele didn’t look anything like John. And maybe it was true that he didn’t really have any non-white friends so from Jessie’s perspective he could understand her curiosity but not her judgement of Dele’s background. Dele did want to go to university, even if he didn’t admit it openly but Eric could sort of tell and liked it when they studied together and Dele would lose himself in creating flashcards that Eric had to repeat his name several times. And even if he didn’t want to go to university, that was fine because he would gain more practical work instead. Overtime, Eric had come to realise that Dele's anger towards Oxford was the way it entrenched the privileged into their privilege. In other words the system and, not education itself.

Most of the prime ministers of their country had either gone to Oxford or Cambridge, established networks and formed connections they would be able to depend on for life. Would that be Eric? He loved music and ideally would end up in an orchestra but in case that didn’t work out he could fall back into politics if he played his cards right and find himself in parliament easily. Everything for him was so easy, it was all there. He breathed out a ring of smoke and leant over the ledge of the window. This school was his and the world could be too. It was all there.

‘’Eric.’’ someone purred, a voice he recognised as Eriksen’s. Eric bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t move an inch from his place. Christian stood beside him, smiling annoyingly at Eric before looking outside at the school grounds too. ‘’Beautiful sight isn’t it?’’ he mused, glancing at Eric.

Eric hummed, non-comital.

‘’My Dad is doing a great job isn’t he.’’ This was less so of a question, more of a statement. ‘’This school is ours you know.’’

‘’Aren’t you supposed to be in class?’’

‘’Aren’t you?’’ Eriksen shot back and then glanced at the cigarette in Eric’s hands. ‘’Old habits die hard, huh.’’

‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ Eric shook his head, adjusting his tie. He was ready to go back, Eriksen had totally killed the mood. ‘’Old habits die hard.’ Eriksen said again as Eric threw his finished roll into the bin.

‘’So I heard. Like a minute ago.’’

‘’For you that means one of a few things. Means being the perfectionist that you are, playing your violin and keeping it in the family.’’ Eric paused in his steps before he reached the door. ‘’Also you and your damn cigarettes.’’ He felt chills slightly. He knew that Eriksen was infatuated with him, but that he was accurate was annoying. Eriksen rounded on him, standing face to face. ‘’The school is ours, Eric. Do you know what I meant by that?’’

‘’Of course, I’m not thick.’’

‘’We should have been ruling it together this whole damn time like the blonde geniuses we are.'' Eriksen continued. ''My Dad runs this place therefore I am the second most powerful person in this school. And you, by sheer talent, are the third.’’

‘’Are you giving me a speech?’’

'' I’m giving you a reality check.’’ he emphasised, pushing Eric back slightly, albeit very gently. Eric brushed his hands away and blinked up at him.

‘’So what are you going to do with all that power?’’ he asked in a bored tone.

‘’Actually, I’ve already done a lot.’’ he answered vaguely.

‘’Like what?’’ Eric pressed.

‘’Have a lot of fucking fun, that's for sure. Ruby would know.’’

‘’Ruby..’’ Eric frowned at the random mention of one of his best friends.

‘’Ruby-yeah. Yeah, she's a crazy one. We used to go mad together, and tried all sorts. Was fun but then it got boring and she left, so,’’ he shrugged casually as if this was news Eric was supposed to know. ‘’I’m also the one who helped you get that Oxford place, by the way.’’

‘’No you didn’t.’’ Eric said instinctively, immediately distracted from the news about Ruby.

Eriksen chucked, looked down at his polished black shoes and then back up at Eric. ‘’You don’t sound very thankful.’’

‘’Because you’re fucking lying.’’

‘’You messed up , Dier. That day when you played at assembly, when the governess was there, we didn’t tell you that the head of Music at Oxford was also present because we knew it would drive you insane. But he was there, Eric and you messed up. John even told you that afterwards but your friends lied to your face and told you you had done well.’’

‘’No-stop.’’ Eric said, blinking rapidly. ‘’Stop-you’re lying.’’

Eriksen grabbed his shoulders and made him stay still. ‘’Relax.’’ he said calmly as if he wasn’t just fucking dropping a bombshell on him.

‘’How can I fucking relax when-’’

‘’Because you’re in . I pulled a few strings and now you’re in as long as you get the grades. That’s what I do with all the power I have Eric, do you see?’’

‘’Stop-’’ was all Eric could say like a broken record. He felt so dirty all of a sudden. His skin was on fire, the pale ivory of his arms beneath his white shirt suddenly ablaze with embarrassment and an unknown sort of.. shame.

‘’You’re in.’’ Eriksen repeated, voice smooth and steady blinking at Eric with clear blue eyes, a flicker of sympathy before he recovered himself. And that's how he knew Eriksen was most likely telling the truth. Eriksen licked his lips. ‘’That’s why I’m giving you this reality check. I got you in. Don’t fucking mess this up. Don’t mess this up because of him -don’t you dare.’’

First Jessie, now Eriksen. This was what they were all thinking, right? Why him? Why Dele? Why mess up your future, Eric? You’re supposed to keep it in the family. Stick with your kind, your own. But he didn’t want to do that. Shouldn’t that have been reason enough?

‘’I’m just saying.’’

‘’Stop touching me.’’ Eric said bluntly, shoulders easing once Eriksen stepped back.

Eric then moved past him at a fast pace, leaving the boys bathroom but instead of going back to class he went to the music room, found it was empty. His precious violin was there in all its shiny black glory. He hurriedly picked it up and played something, anything, screw the music sheets. He needed to somehow calm his racing heart. But as he strung his bow across the strings all he could think about was what a fraud he was.

++

He’s listening to Queen as he goes over some American Revolution notes, placing bright neon post it notes on his wall to remember all the key dates, flashcards around his room that he forces himself to engage with daily and he’s got a podcast on whether the ideas of the enlightenment or the 1773 Tea Act pushed the colonies into rebellion.

Eric thinks it's the latter, he thinks that's really the trigger point in the short term and he meticulously argues that this most definitely is the case in one of his essays. He has to go harder in his A-Level subjects. He needs to somehow balance the scale. Only three A stars would make him feel less guilty about the fact that he made it into Oxford via Eriksen and his father's magic wand.

He’s digging into his third drawer for the textbook from Edexcel when he comes across the fated 2005 album again. He’d forgotten that he’d moved it here to his room and he was momentarily distracted.

Many times during lunch break he had dangled the idea in front of Kate, had hit with an her innocent ‘’How comes you don’t know more about your brother?’’ but she had frowned at him, clearly not eager for the tidal of feelings that came with that topic and she had deliberately snuggled into Harry, ignoring him.

He’d dangled the idea in front of Dele too the last time they’d met up at the park, Eric straddling his waist playfully, threading some daisy’s into his hair like it was in fashion and then he’d paused whilst Dele was shaking out the flowers with distaste. ‘’Imagine if you did know your parents, though.’’ he’d said quietly, lacing a bunch of daisies together and forming a daisy chain. ‘’Like- how would that make you feel?’’

‘’I don’t give a fuck about them.’’ Dele had responded fiercely, almost defensively like he was trying to convince himself as much as Eric. ‘’If they showed up, I’d struggle not to attack them, probably. They’ve fucked me up for life now. And its been seventeen years now. Anyone’s heart would grow cold after that amount of time. He looked so tense as he spoke about it all.

Eric had smoothed the frown of his forehead gently and then picked up his daisy chain, all pretty and dandy. ‘’I heard these are pretty good at melting hearts.’’ he says, sliding it over Dele’s slim wrists.

Dele had laughed at his antics, bending his head to get a closer look. ‘’That is one fucked up daisy chain.’’ he remarked. ‘’Look at the third one. She is so fragile. You kidnapped her didn’t you, you proper bastard.’’

‘’She made it too easy for me.’’ Eric said with amusement, shrugging.

‘’I’ll be the hero for once, then.’’ Dele said, placing the third daisy back on the grass with all of her other friends. He paused dramatically. ‘’Hear that?’’

‘’What?’’ Eric said, already smiling at his answer, leaning forward because he anticipated that Dele’s answer would warrant a kiss.

‘’She’s thanking me.’’

So between it all he’d never actually gotten around to telling Dele about the 2005 album he had discovered because it was always something in the way. And hearing what Dele said if he did know his parents lead him to believe that-maybe it was better this way. What was the point of creating a shitload of drama out of nowhere when things were going so good?

And there was a selfish part of him that enjoyed that him and Dele shared the parents thing in common. It made them closer and Eric could find comfort in Dele and vice versa and he wasn’t sure if that dynamic would remain if things changed. His thoughts were weighing him down and the Marlboro packets were just on the other end of the room. It would be so fucking easy to do it. He doesn’t, though. And he knows why, really.

The doorbell shrills then- twice-, loud and prominent and it sounds odd when you haven’t heard it in a while, like a fucked up nursery rhyme. Maria’s gone shopping so he’s alone when he goes down the stairs, casually fitted in a comfortable white jumper, joggers and black socks.

It says a lot that he doesn’t really react when he sees John in the front porch, flinging his car keys round and round. ‘’Are you lost?’’ Eric asks cordially with an indifference that clearly irks him but John is surprisingly restrained.

‘’Hey, Eric.’’ he says stiffly. ‘’I just wanted my watch back. The one i got you for your birthday?’’ the gift he used to get terrorised about?

‘’Okay.’’ Eric says, not moving an inch. He’s testing the power dynamics. For years its been in John’s favour but its tilting slightly towards him now.

John blinks, mildly uncomfortable. ‘’Okay? So can I get it or?’’

‘’I’m trying to remember if I gave it to Dele or not.’’ he pauses thoughtfully and John’s face flips.

‘’That's not funny.’’

‘’Well you was the one who use to make jokes all the time. Proper comedian, you.’’

John strides past him then, hair styled with gel, beige trousers fitted and prim.

"My room. Second draw drawer." Eric says reluctantly with a sigh, folding his arms. He watches John fly up the stairs, remembering a time when this had been a thing . When John used to come over all the time and all the would do is have sex, he'd listen to John slag people off, eating berries throughput the summer evenings. They had never really talked, or John had really never listened, he wasn't sure which. Eric was starting to feel the draft in the hallway, the slight breeze settling on his hands. John was taking ages. He shut the front door and went up to his room, the door half open.

John wasn't even by the drawers, the infamous watch was on the bed forgotten and he was on the other side of room, careless of his American Revolution notes, bent down over the 2005 album, peering at it with an interest matched only by the way he looked at his Macbeth scripts when he was in the zone and getting into character. Eric froze, the door almost slamming and catching his fingers.

John glanced up at him then, his blue eyes shining. He already knew. He was witty enough to figure it out. "Who's the mixed race kid?" He asked.

"I don't know. " he says, crossing room to take the album from him, scooping it into his arms.

"Bullshit, Eric." He shakes his head, his eyes blazing over. " Fuck . ‘’ John hissed. ‘’Fuck. You know, It makes a bit of fucking sense."

Eric pauses and he hates himself for it but he can't help the question pouring from his lips. "What do you mean?"

"Think about the way Lilian acted when she saw him. She's never told us to get out. She was well out of character. "

"She's a fucked up drunk." Eric reasoned, thinking about Kate's mum.

"And no one even knows how Kate's brother apparently died." John continues, his brain working overtime. He paused, scoffing. "Just think, Dele's supposed to be one of us, in a big house with a fucking maid and an overflowing bank account. Think about that ."

Eric doesn't want to because its it's the confirmation he's never really wanted. Would things be the same? Would things be the same if Dele was just another one of the kids at his school, in the same navy uniform, living at Kate's with Lilian and the black man from the photos. As childhood friends, they would have been good buddies. that's all they would have been, probably. And he'd never know what Dele's lips tasted like or the small mole on his neck or that he got sarcastic when placed in difficult situations. He'd miss out on so much shit. It was weird to think about.

"It's weird." Eric said quietly.

"That's embarrassing , more like. Dele's not made for a place like Westminster. God forbid he finds out.." he looks at Eric sharply then. "Are you gonna tell him?"

"Yeah, I will. Eventually. " Eric Looks down at his hands, playing with the hem of his jumper.

John laughed dryly. "Then he'll be off."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"He'll want nothing to do with you if he knows his mums got millions in the bank. He can expose Lilian to her fake friends and then she'll be forced to give him thousands to save face. If he's smart that's what he'll do. And neither of us really know him. Only since October."

It felt like years, though. "That's not true." Eric says. Dele hated materialism.

"We both know I'm right, though." John asserts with ease, grabbing his watch from the bed, fingers soft against the silver. "Relationships don't last but diamonds do."

And it shouldn't phase him, it shouldn't get to him at all because he knows Dele, knows him more than he knows the dates of the revolutionary war, knows Dele's thighs and the trail of coarse hair near his navel, how far he's come with his sexuality, knows his relationship with God, and the way his mind works but. But.

But it still gets to him a bit.

Because he only really knows the Dele that shows up to Westminster, he doesn't know what Dele is like around his friends, when he's at school, and Dele still never opens up that part of him, so really it's like a Pandora's box but he cant get it to open up and he remembers Dele pushing Kyle away from meeting him like a dirty secret so he cant help but wonder slightly.

And it still gets to him because deep down, Eric’s insecure and John's words have always had an adverse effect on him, even now. So Maybe he wont tell him so soon after all. Theres no rush for it. It'd be better to tell him after exams, when there be no distractions.

++

For Dele's eighteenth birthday in early April, Eric takes him out for the evening. Even though he has another gift - a violin that he bought, not bought with the intention of wanting Dele to play it but just to own one, just to own the instrument that Eric is closest to would be enough- although he’s going to give that to him later on.

"Let's go somewhere." Eric had said after forcing Dele to get on with some studying at his house, even insisting that they use different rooms for maximum productivity.

Dele had raised a thick eyebrow. "Nandos?" he guessed.

" Nando's? " Eric had repeated, offended. "You know I'm classier than that."

He was definitely classier than that.

"So we're going to a nightclub." Dele deadpanned from the backseat of the taxi, one arm slung around the headrest of Eric's seat, nonchalantly.

"It's a rite of passage,'' Eric insisted. "It's a tragedy that you've never been to one."

Dele rolled his eyes, tapping against the interior of the car door. "Sweat, tears, a bunch of drunks, some drugged up druggies. Shit. Can't believe I've never been."

Eric nudges him with his thigh so Dele turns towards him slightly and Eric leans in wrapping his arms around his waist, enjoying the warmth radiating from Dele’s black jacket.

"Isn't that the point, though, Del?" He says slowly, voice lowering so the driver can’t hear. .

"I don't want to get fucked up, though. I want to be in control of myself."

"You don't have to get fucked up. Since we'll be the only sober ones we could just have fun with everyone- mess with their heads a bit."

Dele looks amused at that. "Sounds brilliant."

"Doesn't it just? We’ll be kings for the night.’’ Eric grinned, tugging on Dele’s shirt underneath his jacket. The club would be theirs. If he had to rule somewhere with anyone it would be with Dele not with Eriksen, he thought as he recalled their conversation in the bathroom. Never with Eriksen. ‘’And everyone's going to know it, too."

‘’Know what?’’

That I'm in love with you , is what he definitely does not say.

‘’That its your birthday, dumbo.’’

Dele looks surprised, the shadows hiding his expression, before he nudges Eric back and then pulls him back closer into a hug.

They do, indeed, rule the club like Kings, play with people like pawns on a chess board, toy with them the way a cat does with mice. Dele’s class at winding up a group of women out on a hen night by banging on about the reasons why the bride should absolutely positively not get married.

In the girl's drunken state, dele probably seems professor-like.

‘’He’s got a point, Lucia.’’ one of the bride-to-be’s friend with bright red hair says with a pout. ‘’Remember the amount of times he called off your dates just so he could play overwatch?’’

‘’That was ages ago, though.’’ Lucia said with a frown, she furrowed her eyebrows then blinked wide eyed at Eric as if willing for him to agree with her. Eric simply stared back at her in amusement not moving an inch. ‘’Besides, he’s thrown the game away now, anyways.’’

Her friend with bright red hair made a face. ‘’Well.’’ she said, biting down on her lip.

‘’ What? ’’ Lucia demanded desperately.

‘’Well, its just that-’’

‘’What?’’ Lucia repeated. ‘’Damn it, Angela spit it out.’’

Angela looked annoyed suddenly. ‘’Why are you angry at me , for? It’s not my fault your fiancé’s addicted to video games-’’

Dele’s hand was suddenly on his waist, firm yet gentle, pressing in with his thumb, pushing against the soft white fabric of Eric’s shirt. ‘’Think we should piss off, now’’

‘’Ever the troublemaker.’’ Eric says with a grin, leaning into the touch.

‘’Was only winding them up because of you. Knew it’d make you laugh.’’

‘’But it’s your birthday.’’ Eric points out.

Dele hums then smirks a bit. ‘’Do something for me then. Say something that’ll make me laugh.’’

Eric stares hard at him then decides to let the words swirling around in the pit of his stomach free. ‘’I think I love you, Del.’’

Dele’s laughs. Of course he does. Throws his head back and all. ‘’Nice one.’’

The lights of the nightclub flash green, then pink, then blue shades onto Dele face and he looks good underneath them all. "This isn't real." Dele says, changing the subject, shaking his head.

"It is, though." Eric says, smiling sweetly at him, stepping forward, grabbing his face so he has to look at him. ’I think I’m in love with you. Isn’t that strange?’’ he adds the last part as maybe an afterthought.

Dele doesn’t laugh this time. ‘’Don’t say things you don’t mean.’’

Eric bites the inside of his cheek and then gasps as someone bumps into him from behind, pushing hi, closer towards Dele. Dele easily wraps his arms around Eric’s waist.

‘’How many times did you say that to Stones?’’ Dele asks seriously. ‘’Mhm?’’

‘’Stop.’’ Eric whispers, pulling away. Thinking about John triggers him slightly. But Dele tightens his grip and leans his head against Eric’s. Eric closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, tries to block out Dua Lipa’s latest hit blasting loudly.

‘’I can’t stop thinking about you and him.’’ Dele admits after a while.

‘’You have to stop.’’

‘’But I can’t.’’

Eric allows himself to open his eyes and meets Dele’s dark brown eyes, a piercing stare that makes him want to close his eyes again. His cheekbones are sharp, his eyebrows thick and sharp. The boy that Eric saw in those album phots grew up to be very handsome. He makes Eric feel wanted.

‘’You need to stop.’’ Eric says again, kissing him in the corner of his mouth.

‘’But I can’t.’’ Dele repeats.

‘’Dele.’’ Eric sighs defeatedly, leaning his head down against Dele’s shoulder. The fabric of his jacket is cold against Eric’s skin. ‘’Dele just-’’

‘’I’m sorry.’’ Dele blurts, shaking his head. He makes Eric look at him again, stares at him, eyelashes long. ‘’Sorry so you-you actually-’’ he moves them out of the way of a couple moving towards the dancefloor. ‘’You meant it?’’

Eric half shrugs, suddenly not as bold.

‘’It’s fine.’’ Dele tells him. ‘’We don’t have to talk about that. Let’s just chill, yeah?’’ he runs a hand through Eric's blonde hair and the older boy nods eagerly, flashing a smile.

Dele smiles back, and they're kings again side by side for tonight at least.

Eric gets hold of the microphone because the DJ recognises him as the local violin prodigy even whilst half drunk.

"Is this working." He murmurs, making a face when the mic screeches, sound bouncing around the walls.

"I think so." Dele says wryly a couple of feet away.

Eric ignores him with a grin. "My beautiful friends, even though half of you are completely baked - spare a thought for someone who was born eighteen years ago today.."

"I was!" an older woman nearby says proudly. "Except not eighteen years ago. no more than forty I swear."

" Yeah right." a man coughs grumpily next to her.

"Er-Happy birthday, then, ma’am." Eric entertains her with one of his best smiles, right off the top shelf. "But I sort of meant my friend over there." he nods at Dele who looks dazed staring at him.

"Dont be shy darling, happy birthday!" the lady says, bringing a stiff looking Dele into a bear hug. Eric snickers. "That's all." he says, handing the mic back with a flourish. The DJ proceeds he goes all eighties on them and Eric is only surprised he hasn’t pulled AC/DC out yet.

Dele eventually wriggles away from the lady, an embarrassed flush lingering on his cheeks. ‘’She got you that flustered did she?’’ Eric teases.

Dele makes a face and doesn’t answer and Eric just laughs.

They get offered different drugs; opioids, LSD, quads, all shoved in their faces all night long like a never ending test of his restraint, but Eric never relents even though he is no stranger to some of them. Dele offers him a skittle each time he turns one down which proves as decent enough motivation and Dele ends up kissing him mostly anyways. They can’t keep their hands off each other. Eric shamelessly wants to suck Dele off right there, he wants his come down his throat, he wants Dele to stop thinking about John, Eric wants to stop thinking about john himself - their fucking conversation from earlier.

Another development is the amount of boys and girls swarming towards Dele. His looks really good and his worn black jacket is probably appealing to a drunk clubbers bad boy dream, especially the white Essex girls. When Eric leaves to go to the bathroom and comes back Dele is surrounded and he is also drinking something. A spark of annoyance hits because he’s gone all night without it.

They're crowding around him as he tells a story about a fish that doesn't exist.. It's sort of a reversal of roles and it's weird to see. Usually Eric would be in the middle of such crowds.

Eric's by the bar when his phone vibrates against his thigh.

What do you think happened to Dele's father tho?

I cant fucking wrap my head around this.

Lilian has always been fucked but creating a narrative about a dead younger brother of Kate’s is next level.

Eric doesn't reply because he doesn't know why John suddenly thinks they're on talking terms, united only in their knowledge of a dark secret.

Dele's fighting off the attention and looking around, only slightly tipsy. his eyes catch with Eric and Eric looks away because everything is too bright and too much, AC/DC are too loud and a cigarette would be perfect and wouldn't be hard to get either. He's slightly overwhelmed by the loudness of the music and he's burnt himself out, he wouldn't have minded spending the day with Dele in his room instead.

He makes an abrupt decision to leave the club and find a group of smokers, he'd be back as soon as he could. There was a group of older men and women in their twenties, standing around the alleyway, fingers clutched white tubes. There was a slight breeze that evening.

"Mind if I have a puff?" He asked.

The one with red hair smiled delightfully, looked him up and down. "Just a puff?" He asked lightly to the amusement of his friends.

Eric ignored his comment, taking the fag and holding it up to his lips with expertise. He inhaled deeply missing the feeling. Dele was exiting the club then, looked left and then right and Eric watched him silently waiting for him to turn around.

The red head hadn't looked away. "So you here with anyone or?"

"Yeah." He said, exhaling softly. "He's over there. It's his birthday."

Dele turned his head, looking in his direction, just then. He looked a little annoyed as he walked over, Eric pinched himself on purpose regretting the smoke. It hadn't even been worth it.

"Jesus, Eric." Dele says. "You just walked out. I thought you'd gone home."

"Why would I do that? Why would I leave you?" Eric said, handing the fag back to the red haired man, promptly ignoring whatever he had muttered under his breath. "-I just didn't like it there."

"Neither did I.’’

Eric raised an eyebrow. ‘’Didn’t look like it.’’

'' I thought I liked the attention and it was fun for about a minute. But then they wanted another story from me and I didn't have anything else to say. They got bored of me, I guess.'

''You should have done something more interesting." Eric said, with a small smile.

Dele mirrored his expression, taking his hand then and Eric laced his fingers with Dele's, forgetting the other people.'' I did. Dramatically stormed out after this blonde tory git.''

''Not a tory.'' Eric grimaced and Dele snickered.

"I know. We should go." Dele says, serious then. "Yours?"

"No." Eric said, pushing himself off the wall. "We should spend the night somewhere we'll never go to again. So that its ours."

"What, like a hotel?"

"Yeah, actually. The Ritz is open right now." He adds lightly. "Its for grown ups, you know.

''So we'll fit right in."

"Exactly." Eric nods easily.

He's not going to shy away from the fact that he's thinking about sex when they're booking in an hour or so later because he is. Because they get a master suite and Dele's looked at him with a heavy gaze and kept touching his thigh in the cab on the way over. So is he thinking about it too? The lady booking them in gives them a knowing smile so can she feel it as well? Theres this feeling lingering over the both of them that Eric wants to explore, take advantage of, capture and keep.

The Ritz reeks of richness and romance and he thinks of all the films that have taken place here, all the sex scenes and he realises that he wants it. He wants Dele to fuck his brains out. He wants to belong to someone, he wants to belong to him.

The lady slides the hotel room keys over and Dele picks it up, twirling it with his fingers. Eric remembers the off licence store just down the road and its it's still open, they've probably got lube and condoms and Dele's leaning against him now, one hand pulling on the lapels of his Jean's, like he cant keep his hands off him either and his skin is burning with the feeling too.

"Meet me in the hallway." Eric says, managing to drag himself away. "I'm just going to get some Lucozade and maybe a packet of ready salted crisps."

Dele smirks because they both know hes bullshitting. "Take your time." He says, leaning against the counter watching Eric watch him as he walks backwards. They look like a couple of dumb teenagers but the title is something he likes at that moment in time.

Dele finds himself waiting in the corridor outside of room 311, sat on the floor, rubbing his hands back against the carpet until his palms burn. He doesn't want to go inside the room yet but he imagines that it's probably going to match the décor out here; thick walls shaded red that lined the rest of the hallway.

There are slight murmurings from further down - guests enjoying their evening at The Ritz-there's this distinct casual richness that clouds the air and it's a heavy scent which Dele would be a fool to ignore. Even going up in lift to the sixth floor, watching middle aged men and women drift in and out as they made their way back to their rooms was an experience in itself. They must have had big office city jobs to afford nights in places like these. And Dele felt like a kid amongst them. He thought that even Eric, as accustomed to wealth as he had been growing up with parents that inherited fortunes from their respective parents to the point where Eric’s mum hadn’t worked the last ten years of her life-even he would feel small amongst all of these grown ass adults, Dele was sure.

Except, Dele was an adult too now. And it felt weird, to say the least. He scoffed and dragged his hands through his curly hair. No way was he allowed to vote and shit like that, would soon have to pay council fucking tax, all of these responsibilities suddenly popping up like flies.

A woman cleared her throat suddenly. Dele jolted and looked upwards, finding himself staring at a bare faced brunette with loafers on her feet and a black playsuit on.

‘’Excuse me.’’ she said, pointedly.

‘’Right.’’ Dele responded, standing up so she could continue down the corridor.

She walked past him and then paused, swirling around to face him, curiosity written on her face. ‘’Waiting for someone?’’

Dele stared her down, wanting to tell her to just keep walking. But he nodded instead.

‘’Enjoy your night, then.’’ she smiled, looking a little smug.

‘’Will do.’’

Her loafers scuffed on the carpet as she made her way over to her room, just four doors down. He sits his arse back down and faces the wall, playing with the room key and wondering why Eric is taking so long. He's a little tipsy from earlier but he feels safe with Eric, always safe. And the day had been really good; Him and Eric had taken care of each other just the way they needed. They didn’t need any parents- any of those grown adults. They managed just fine on their own because they looked out for one another.

Eric needed him and Dele knew that because he needed him in just the same way. He needed to feel Eric’s skin against his, he craved that intimacy. Closeness that he’d never really had with anyone before. Eric was all of his firsts.

The hallway was now silent and empty, his breathing giving sound into the space and it was a weird Sort of feeling, a weird sort of power.

It was midnight and his birthday was officially over. Stacey had gotten him some flashcards sets from WHSmith because education mattered, Jesse had bought him the Coming to America DVD which was in his words a cultural reset and Kyle had given him £300 from his parents which he had in his pocket and it had felt weird to accept but foolish not to. It was weird that Kyle- the same guy he’d experienced blackouts with when the electricity bill wasn’t paid- that same Kyle was some sort of loaded big shot right now. Jamie, ever the most half-arsed of them all, had ruffled his hair and called it a day and he'd gotten texts from Kate and Harry and even Ruby. He was still giving her space but she didn't seem mad anymore that her boyfriend had gotten involved with one of her best friends, not really, she was still trying to understand, she was a good person. They were working on it.

"Aren't you cold?" Eric was asking suddenly, holding a plastic bag in one hand, looking down at him, the other hand leaning against the red wall. He looked good against the wall, just like had Dele knew he would. But.

But there was something off. His lips were bitten red, and his cheeks were flushed red-not the red when Eric was amused or when they pulled apart after kissing-it was something else.

‘’Why’d it take you ages?’’ Dele stood to his feet, taking the bag from Eric and watching how the older boys fingers flexed anxiously against the thin air when they weren't holding on to anything.

Eric looked away. ‘’Just some idiots at the shop -its bullshit..’’

‘’What type of idiots?’’

‘’It’s just bullshit . People that’ve seen me in the local paper-Said some shit about Diana. Whatever. Can we get the hell inside the room?’’

‘’Diana.’’ Dele repeats, his instinct fierce protection for the woman kicking in.

‘’I didn’t fucking stutter, did I?’’ Eric looked at him defensively and then sighed rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

Dele shows Eric the key for the room, jiggling it around so it makes that little sound and then puts it into the back pocket of his jeans. Eric tracks the movement before running a hand through his blonde hair.

‘’Just tell me what they said and then we can go inside.’’

They stare stubbornly at each other before Eric relents.

‘’They saw me buying the bottle of lube - a group of guys from Westminster-I’ve seen them around but they’ve never spoken to me before. They don’t even go to St. Andrews. And one of them- he starts talking about how my cock sucking behaviour gave her cancer -like I said just bullshit right?’’ Eric talks so quickly, shoves the words out from his lips like its scorching hot, that Dele almost doesn’t even catch all of it. Then Eric is reaching into Dele's back pocket, grabbing the keys and opening the door. ‘’Like I said - just bullshit-no big deal.’’ he storms inside, shrugging off his long coat and fiddling with the light switch.

‘’Eric.’’ Dele says, walking in behind him. He's enraged. His skin is boiling. He half wants to go down to that fucking off-licence himself, get into a scrappy fight-wants to do something.

‘’It's your birthday, Del.’’ Eric says, watching the chandelier flicker and then turning towards him. ‘’I don’t want to talk about it.’’

‘’Its midnight-so not my birthday anymore.’’ Dele counters, sitting on the floor in front of the perfectly laid out bed, he leans back against it and then opens his arms. ‘’Come.’’

Eric blinks at him, blue eyes and all and then he kneels down in front of Dele, crawls towards him and then stops, stares at him. His hands frame Dele’s face, trail down to his chin, his neck, back to his jaw. Then he hugs him back, ducks his head into Dele’s shoulder, the crook of his neck and Dele pulls him tighter in. He’s not quite sure what just happened but his heart beats faster. Eric smells like spring when Dele gets a face full of his blonde hair.

‘’Smell good.’’ he whispers. ‘’I’m so angry.’’

‘’Me too.’’ Eric says, kissing his shoulder lightly. ‘’You know when you’re so angry that you get upset?’’

‘’Yeah.’’

‘’Well, it was like that.’’ he shivers in Dele’s arms before climbing fully onto his lap, his thighs warm through the material of his trousers. Dele’s hands rub up and down his back slowly in circles. He just wants Eric to feel better. ‘’And I fucking miss her.’’ Eric adds after a prolonged pause, tone on the edge like he’s almost ashamed to admit it.

‘’I know.’’ Dele says. They had argued about Diana way too many times to indicate that Eric was completely okay with her being gone. And he can read the older boy better, now. When he thinks about it, he can’t believe he ever believed Eric was anything close to an enigma. He thinks he can read him pretty well now. He feels like he knows everything there is to know about Eric Jeremy Edgar Dier and everything he knows, he loves.

‘’I miss her so bad.’’ his voice breaks a little and Eric gasps before going silent but his body is shaking and Dele knows that he’s crying.

‘’Listen to me.’’ Dele says quietly, rubbing at the back of the blonde’s neck and nudging him slightly so he looks at him. Rosy tear stained cheeks and watery blue eyes look back at him. And as they look at each other Dele realises that this is it. Eric is it. This is the boy he first saw all those months ago at his birthday party, high off his arse, the same boy he’d seen when he and Ruby had broken into St. Andrews littered all over the display boards with his black violin, the boy with a house too big for him and the world at his feet-but he’s not untouchable. Because he’s right here in front of Dele-being vulnerable, relying on Dele. He makes Dele feel needed. Dele realises that he wants to be needed and to be needed by Eric, Eric who’s blinking down at him, sitting on his lap-it was really something.

‘’Diana was so fucking proud of you.’’ Dele tells him straight on. ‘’When you would fuck off to your room ignoring me,’’ he made a face and Eric smiled reluctantly, ‘’she used to wax lyric about how ambitious you are. In everything. She used to say ‘even if its the way he walks into school-he makes it an event’.’’

Eric sniggered, hiding his face behind his hands. ‘’Really?’’

‘’’Course.’’ Dele grabbed both of his hands and pulled it down, linking their fingers. ‘’She banged on about how gorgeous you are and I never disagreed.’’

‘’Del.’’ Eric breathed, tone almost dreamily, leaning down towards him, putting their foreheads together.

‘’You’re really gorgeous, Edgar.’’

‘’ God, do not call me that.’’ Eric shook his head although his lips betrayed him with a smile and he tightened their gripped hands.

‘’And she loved you so much. I get that I don’t really know what she was like before- and I can only go off my time with her. And maybe she wasn’t perfect but she loved you and you fucking loved her so stop denying it. Just embrace it.’’

‘’ Fuck .’’ Eric said, unlinking their fingers to wipe his tears away fiercely with the sleeve of his jumper. ‘’Fuck.’’ he said again, rubbing his eyes and then looked at Dele with the most warm gaze he’d ever been on the receiving end of. His skin was warm. Eric took his thumb and index finger and tugged Dele’s lips up into a curve. Dele squirmed and raised an eyebrow.

‘’I just find it precious how much love you have to give.’’ Eric tells him, removing his fingers from Dele’s lips and then cupping his face. ‘’I’m glad I’ve got you. I’ve only got you, you know.’’

Dele nodded and let Eric kiss him. They both sighed into it and the realisation that they were as alone as they had ever been fully sunk into Dele.

When he went to university, he was going to be released from the foster system- from the parochial life bubble he’d been floating in for more than a decade. He wouldn’t have Stacey anymore. And there was a part of that that scared him-even for all the flack he had given her, all the doubts over the authenticity of her role as his mother of sorts-he was still a little scared.

But then there was Eric.

There was Eric grabbing at the back of his hair as their lips touched, gluing them together like thieves in the night. Dele wriggled his palms, somewhat relatively cold underneath Eric’s silky shirt and revelled in the way he felt the blonde’s bare back visibly tense, Eric had the smoothest skin, his lips were even softer.

And so, Dele thought, that if he was going to be alone in this world, he might as well be alone with Eric Dier.

Eric pulled back only to lean forward a moment later. ‘’Gonna take a shower.’’ he whispered in Dele’s ear and then smirked at Dele’s bewildered reaction.

‘’Wh-Don’t look at me like that.’’ he laughed, adjusting his legs around Dele’s thighs and standing up. ‘’And besides; are you truly at The Ritz unless you use up their excessive amount of cashmere bathrobes? Nope, don’t think so.’’

‘’Eat the rich.’’ Dele muttered, placing his arms behind his head and rolling his neck back as he watched Eric walk confidently towards the en-suite bathroom.

‘’Maybe later!’’ he called back with ease. He was definitely back in his comfort zone. You wouldn't have known he had broken down just moments earlier unless you stared really hard. Which Dele was accustomed to doing by now. He stared until the bathroom door closed shut quietly before snapping out of it.

So this was what The Ritz's rooms looked like live and in the flesh.

It was grandiose galore. It was gold tinted lamps that deferred towards the huge chandelier on the ceiling. Huge, draped curtains with intricate red patterns which were heavy when he tugged on them slightly. The other room seemed to be a designated kitchen, a small microwave, a large counter made of black marble. The room he was in, the main room contained a large queen sized bed, the sheets neatly made, there was a small letter on the bed which when he opened realised it was just a message from room service telling them to enjoy their stay with a smiley face at the end of the sentence and a small key to the balcony.

The sound of water hitting the tiles softly in the distance was the background music to his little tour. The plasma screen sized TV was on, by default on BBC One reporting on the news that there some nutter in Birmingham who had gone on a stabbing spree and Dele zoned in and out swiftly, desensitized to such things by now.

He lowered the volume of the telly a bit so he could hear if Eric was done with his late night shower- and the shower had evidently been turned off. Eric walked out, the room felt warmer as he did, wrapped comfortably in a light blue cashmere bathrobe, his blonde hair wet and darker, skin tanned. He was really a sight for sore eyes.

‘’So talk to me.’’ Dele said, clearing his throat. ‘’How's the bathrobe?’’

Eric smiles as he goes over to the drawer by the bed, hovering over the complimentary beauty kit given by room service and looking for some body cream. His cheeks are pinkish. ‘’Fairly decent. What’d you reckon?’’

‘’You know that blue is your colour.’’

Eric rubbed down his legs, as he moved higher the robe rode up on his thighs -they were thick and muscular, soft and white. Then he switched legs, rubbing cocoa butter down his other leg. ‘’Thank you, sir.’’ he said mockingly, then glanced over his shoulder at Dele who was smirking at him.

Dele looked over towards the bag Eric had brought from the license store, noticing that the bottle of lube wasn’t there and so his mind- working overtime had a sneaky suspicion that Eric had taken it in with him for his shower.

He strolled over towards Eric who was rubbing his hands together, making use of the last bit of cream left.

‘’Did you-’’ he cut himself off when Eric’s blue eyes met his unflinchingly.

‘’Did I what?’’ Eric said, smiling lightly.

‘’Did you..’’ Did you take the lube with you into the bathroom, did you touch yourself, did you prep yourself, do you want me to-do you want us to fuck the way two people who are in love with each other but too damned to say it out loud do?

‘’I’m going to get a glass of water.’’ Eric said, looking at him teasingly, lips pulled high into a smirk as he shuffled towards the dining area, grabbing a champagne glass and filling it with tap water instead of the bottle of red wine nearby.

Dele realised it right then in HD, 4K, 3D and all of the above combined that he wanted to touch Eric in all the places that could be reached and wanted Eric to do the same to him. The realisation hit him repeatedly as Eric leaned against the counter to fill his glass with more water. It was on a loop. He’d wanted to, for a while, really. But it-it felt right somehow. They were already naked to each other in all ways possible without removing all of their clothes.

So Dele walked up to Eric, grabbed his glass, set it aside, and then wrapped his arms around Eric’s waist.

Eric gasped into Dele’s mouth as their lips met. Dele had never felt so desperate in all of his life. Keeping Eric in place, he kissed down Eric’s neck as he fumbled with his other hand in attempting to push the glass further away so they wouldn’t knock it down in their haste. The kissing had turned into mostly gasping as Dele picked Eric up by the waist and sat him on the kitchen countertop.

Eric shoved Dele’s jacket off his shoulders to the ground and then undid the front of his own revered blue bathrobe hastily and threw it to the side like it wasn’t the Ritz’s very own. Eric was naked in front of him and the realisation seemed to hit the blonde as his eyes widened slightly when he felt Dele’s hands on his bare waist.

‘’You’re beautiful, you know that. It's just me, remember? No big deal.’’ Dele said quietly, biting into Eric’s bottom lip, one of his hands tangled in his blonde hair as Eric used both hands to unbutton to unbuckle Dele’s belt and nearly ripped it off to toss to the floor.

‘’The biggest deal of them all.’’ Eric refuted but allowed himself to relax. Dele let his hands wander. Eric was all soft muscle, his upper thighs were thick, waist slightly curvy yet firm. His stomach was flat and toned, his dick sat nicely between his inner thighs and he smelt like grapefruit from the soap he’d used not too long ago. ‘’Done ?’’

Dele laughed, cheeks hotter but he didn’t feel embarrassed because there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

‘’Fuck me.’’ Eric demanded breathlessly. ‘’I’m not waiting. I prepped myself in the shower.’’

Dele kissed his jaw in quick succession, he had anticipated as much but it was still something to hear Eric admit it. ‘’Fuck.’’ was all he could manage.

Dele pulled Eric off the countertop, spun him around, and pressed his chest to Eric’s back, gripping his hips and bringing Eric’s ass to press against him so Eric could feel how hard he already was. Eric moaned, head dropping back onto Dele’s shoulder as he grabbed the countertop, trembling as Dele dragged his hands firmly across Eric’s chest, across the darkened area of his nipples and pinching slightly. Even as inexperienced as Dele was, he felt like he knew all there was to know. He was confident that he could bring Eric down to his knees with his touch just by pure virtue of just knowing Eric the way that he did.

Eric was panting as he leaned over the countertop, and he whined needily when Dele pressed a finger into his hole and sure enough, met the wet liquid of the lube. He pressed a finger in-just to see- and Eric’s whining turned into a soft moan. ‘’Del.’’ he whispered.

Dele reached his other hand around to steadily stroke Eric’s cock to full hardness, kissing along his neck and shoulders sweetly. He added another second finger quickly and then a third as Eric slapped his palm against the countertop, begging to just be fucked and to get the prep over with.

Dele kissed him behind his ear, shushing him and then turned back towards the bedroom area and used some of the remaining lube in the bottle to slick his own cock up, walking swiftly back to where Eric was sinfully waiting for him like a belated birthday present, naked and beautiful and in love with him. Dele knew that he was in love with him.

He bent Eric over the countertop again and lined himself up before thrusting in smoothly as Eric let out a choked moan.

‘’Jesus,’’ Dele gasped as he entered Eric, a ripple of sensation running down his spine in the ways that only happened when you were suddenly hyper aware of everything happening around you. ‘’Just-oh, God.’’

Dele gripped Eric’s hips with his fingers digging into the skin, fucking into Eric with near reckless abandon and very little finesse, his inexperience showing through as he was gripped with a sudden urge to feel everything in Eric’s tight hole. He was chasing his own release and searching for Eric’s, soaking up every little noise of pleasure that escaped Eric’s mouth. Eric clawed at the countertop, scrambling for some kind of purchase that he couldn’t find, mewling Dele’s name without much though, halfway, though, he started calling him baby.

‘’ Yes , baby.’’ Eric praised him. ‘’Doing so well. Fucking me good.’’

It twisted something in Dele’s stomach in the best way.

‘’What-?’’ Eric asked breathlessly as Dele pulled out, and then he spun Eric around. He wanted them like this. He picked Eric up again and pressed his lower back into the countertop, lowering Eric right onto his cock. Eric’s breath stuttered as he clung to Dele tightly, arms around his neck, fingernails digging into his skin painfully in a way that Dele craved- he wanted Eric to need him the same way he needed Eric. Eric wrapped his legs around Dele’s waist immediately.

‘’Del-Del, right... ah ...right there,’’ Eric managed to get out as Dele thrusted erratically throwing caution to the wind, his lips pressed to Eric’s shoulder, hands gripping his ass tightly. Eric rolled his hips expertly, torturously so, like he was deliberately testing Dele’s restraint because it felt so good he almost damn near dropped him.

When Eric started to slip from the sweat, Dele carried him right back to the bedroom, kissing his swollen lips along the way like they were his source of oxygen and then he sat on the edge of the bed with Eric in his lap.

Eric ran his hands down Dele’s shoulders to his elbows and then back up to cup behind his neck. Even as fucked out as he was he still managed to whisper ‘’This is very adventurous for your first time, you know.’’

Dele snorted, running his hands up and down Eric’s thigh. ‘’Definitely.’’

‘’I’m in love with you, you know that too’’ Eric whispered again, quieter this time if it was possible, circling his hips and then pressing his chest to Dele’s, dropping his head to press kisses to Dele’s shoulder. Dele melted into him, knowing he was impossibly close but desperate to be closer yet, skin burning with the feeling of Eric riding him and the weight of his words.

‘’Dele.’’ Eric said, voice dripping with aroused need, pulling Dele back into reality. Dele didn’t have time to consider his emotions. He didn’t really need to. He knew how he felt. But he was literally inside Eric and bound towards an intense orgasm. And Eric was still in his lap, blonde hair mussed, cheeks flushed pink, bottom lip kiss-bitten, eyes half-lidded.

Eric fucking Dier. He was fucking Eric Dier. Oh God.

Dele lifted his hips to fuck into Eric and Eric sighed in relief, slumping slightly. He whispered a few nonsensical words, begging Dele to finish him off.

‘’Shh.’’ Dele shushed and then gripped Eric’s jaw and kissed down his neck and chest slowly, encouraging Eric to continue fucking himself. Eric suddenly gasped and stilled and then angled his body just a little, letting the tip of Dele’s cock brush against his prostate. Dele kissed the next gasp right out of his mouth and their breathes danced together.

‘’Please,’’ Eric asked, practically begged, dragging his fingernails down Dele’s back, nails sharp and carving marks onto his brown skin. Dele liked it. He liked it so much.

Dele flipped Eric onto the bed on his back swiftly, threw Eric’s legs up onto his shoulders admired the birthmark on his inner thigh, grabbed his hips and then started to fuck him hard. Maybe what they had been doing previously was making love but now they were just full on fucking. There was nothing nice about it and Dele wanted to cry with the want. Every breath overwhelmed him as he fucked into Eric, repeatedly hitting his prostate with every move and then he looked down at Eric, gasping, almost choking on his breath as his eyes rolled back and he stopped forming sentences.

Dele leaned forward, one arm on the mattress whilst the other still held Eric’s leg and then he snapped his hips forward in a sudden burst of energy, his cock slipping in and out of the boy made of ivory, Eric dragging his fingernails down Dele’s back again. He lost himself to the lust and gripped Eric’s blonde hair, gasping into the crook of Eric’s neck, fucking him as the bed rattled and groaned at their change of pace. The headboard banging repeatedly against the wall as Eric moaned his name softly. He held his breath at the way Eric’s back arched off the bed, eyes rolling back as he came untouched, body trembling, little spasms as he became over-sensitive very quickly. A cry escaped from Dele’s mouth and he buried himself deep inside Eric and came seconds later, his body nearly collapsing.

The mere sight of Eric beneath him is enough to convince Dele that he’d gladly start a petition to replace the portrait of the Naked Woman in Kate’s spare room with Eric naked like this instead.

‘’....I don’t even think I finished that glass of water.’’ Eric eventually whispered. Dele could feel their heart beats, louder than bombs.

‘’It was tap water..’’ Dele argues after a breath. ‘’It didn’t deserve to be finished.’’

‘’Oh My God-’’Eric said all of a sudden.

‘’Hm?’’ Dele turned to look at him curiously, how his sweaty blonde hair stuck to his skin.

‘’I think I threw that cashmere bathrobe near the bin.’’ Eric snickered.

They both laughed and Dele slowly eased himself off of Eric suddenly realising how messy of a situation they were in. He pulled out and watched as his cum dripped slowly out of Eric’s ass, the wave of cold air in the hotel room suddenly giving him goose bumps. He got up and went to the bathroom, grabbed a couple towels and cleaned them both up before tossing it somewhere near the bin.

He felt a wave of tiredness as he climbed back into bed with Eric, thanking God the bed was so big that he could roll them both over towards the right and avoid the wet spot on the bed sheets which neither of them could be bothered to deal with in that instance.

Dele found himself with his head on Eric’s chest, the older boy running a hand through his curly hair slowly as the silence started to envelope them. Time finally caught them and Dele realised it was almost two a.m. He glanced at the television which was still on, showing news from the States, images of a police officer pushing a black man against the hood of a car. The car looked like a station wagon. Eric was watching too, pressing a hand on Dele’s forehead gently.

‘’It makes me angry too.’’ he whispers.

Dele looks away from the television and up at Eric, from this angle he admires the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the blue of his eyes.

‘’How was it?’’ Dele asks, changing subjects.

‘’Asking me dumb questions.’’ Eric rolls his eyes.

‘’Tell me.. baby .’’ He adds the latter word teasingly and Eric flushes visibly. ‘’What, don’t like it when its the other way around?’’

‘’Its not that-it's because you’re mocking it.’’

‘’I liked you saying it.’’ Dele admits earnestly, looking up at him. His chest is warm from how hard his heart is beating.

Eric squints at him before deeming that his answer is genuine enough and pulls him up from the back of his head so their lips meet. ‘’Fine, then, only during sex though.’’ he says in-between kisses.

‘’I think I could qualify for a degree in fucking the soul out of Eric Dier.’’ Dele says, nosing at Eric's neck and pressing his hand against his stomach.

‘’If you’re that invested…’’ Eric entertains his banter tiredly, sleep attempting to catch him now.

Dele hums and closes his eyes breathing in Eric’s scent of sweat and grapevine, he can still smell their cum, it's a filthy atmosphere in reality and contrasts beautifully with the glamour of The Ritz. He drifts into sleep with Eric playing with his hair.

++

It was the sound of Eric swearing under his breath that woke Dele up the morning after.

The first thing he stared at was the ceiling, the chandelier looked uglier during the day, it lacked that aura of intimidation that it had at night time-when humans were more desperate for light. He sat up slightly, the sheets ruffling and tangling with his legs as he ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to become fully awake as the setting around him came groggily into place.

Eric was on the floor near the big draped curtains, hunched over his iPhone, a crease in between his eyebrows. He had one of the dressing gowns on this time, an inky black one. He swore again, scrolling though something on his phone. ‘’ Fuck..’’ he was speaking quietly, muttering almost, but it felt like he was shouting really.

The digital clock next to the bed pointed out to Dele that it was just after ten and they had been told at the reception that breakfast would come at eleven via room service.

‘’Eric?’’ Dele said and as he blinked properly he noticed that Eric looked really distressed. He hopped out of bed instinctively and went towards the older boy who looked surprised when Dele strode towards him- and not in a good way.

Eric grabbed his phone and stood up sharply moving backwards towards the curtains. ‘’What are you doing?’’ He demanded almost accusingly.

Dele stared at him like he’d suddenly grown three heads. ‘’ Walking towards you? What’s up with you, Jesus.’’

‘’I’m fine.’’ he insisted. ‘’Just-go dress up or something.’’

Dele reasoned in his head that something similar had happened the previous day, where Eric experienced something and didn’t want to tell Dele because he assumed that it would be a burden. But Dele didn’t want Eric to feel like that.

‘’Is someone -upsetting you?’’

‘’No.’’ Eric said, though his eyes flickered to the side for a second. The blonde sighed before moving to walk past Dele towards the bathroom so Dele grabbed his phone.

Eric turned around so fast that Dele thought he had caught whiplash. ‘’Del, please give that back.’’

‘’You’re worrying me a little.’’ Dele said honestly. ‘’Remember yesterday? I thought we could talk about this stuff. Whatever it is-I’ll make it better.’’

Eric huffed and pulled on his dressing gown then folded his arms and stared at Dele in what felt like an hour before he spoke. ‘’It's just John being a dick, that's all.’’

Dele’s chest tightened. ‘’He’s messaging you? Eric you have to block him. Unlock your phone.’’

Eric didn’t respond.

Dele glanced up at him, the boy wasn’t looking at him, instead was running a hand anxiously though his hair and pacing around. ‘’I can’t-’’ he shook his head. ‘’I can’t fucking do this anymore.’’

‘’Can’t do what?’’ Dele questioned, feeling about five minutes late to everything that was unravelling. ‘’What- this? ’’ he furrowed his eyebrows. ‘’We finally have sex and that's it?’’

‘’ No.’’ Eric said, frustrated, balling his hands into a fist and framing the length of his face, his blonde hair resembling a bird’s nest in the light of the day. ‘’You don’t get it.’’

Just-something didn’t feel quite right. Like the centre of the earth’s gravity was off point just so or like Raheem from school paying him a compliment for once.

Dele turned around and walked over to the imposing, draped curtains and pushed them open, welcoming in a bit of light into the room. They were on the sixth floor and it was an early Sunday morning. It was bright but it wasn't warm, one of those odd days in April where the wind felt chilly and the clouds looked damp in the sky, threatening rain at any moment. He saw a few elderly women walking around, possibly on their way to Mass.

‘’Look,’’ He said, glancing back at Eric who was standing just behind him now, clutching his dressing gown even tighter as he blinked at the sunlight.

‘’Wh-Del?’’ The older boy frowned and then he sighed leaning the slope of his nose against the glass, his breath clouding it up. He drew back after a second and Dele used his index finger to draw a small smiley face in the condensation. Eric stared at it in silence and then glanced at Dele.

‘’I’m trying to calm you down.’’

‘’Then give me my phone.’’ Eric said quietly. ‘’Please.’’

‘’Are you going to tell me what the fuck is making you this upset?’’ Dele demanded, staring at him.

Eric groaned and then leaned his head back onto the window, right onto Dele’s little smiley face. Dele wrapped his arms around Eric from behind, caging him in, the blonde’s iPhone still tightly held in his left hand. Even in his slightly annoyed state, something burned at his skin at the feel of Eric’s ass against his crotch, just like yesterday and even the older boy’s breath hitched. Is that what they would become? Could they just use sex as a distraction whenever something felt off? He could bend Eric over right there and they could go at it like animals like they had before. But he hadn’t seen Eric like this in a while and the mention of John Stones had only aided his concern.

They were silent for a while, Dele placing his chin on Eric’s shoulder as Eric in turn took deep, slow breaths and they watched the world turn from the window. In the distance there was a church bell ringing, a choir singing, down below across The Ritz was its huge carpark, they littered the space glamorously. At last Eric shifted, his hands finding Dele’s on his waist and slowly prying his iPhone back. Dele made a face.

‘’I need to tell you something.’’ Eric began ominously.

That much was very obvious, Dele thought. ‘’..Okay.’’ he replied cautiously, bracing himself, his arms were still around Eric’s waist but he was sure he was almost suffocating the boy now, his arms tightening instinctively.

Eric hesitated again and Dele almost wanted to yell.

‘’Just say it, Eric. What do you want to tell me? What is it? Stop fucking about with it.’’

‘’I-’’ Eric said, then cut himself off.

Dele almost wanted to shake him.

‘’I know who your parents are, Del.’’

If anything, Eric drops the bombshell very politely.

As if he hasn’t just completely ruined a part of Dele’s sense of self in just a couple of words. If anything, there’s a part of Dele that is offended by Eric’s words. There was no way that Eric knew more about Dele than Dele knew about himself . That was an offensive thing to think of, even more of an offensive thing to actually say . That was an offence, surely . He was surely lying.

Liar, Dele thought as he stepped away from Eric as if he’d been stung. Eric turned towards him, his blue eyes shimmering - shame written all over his face as well as that hideous emotion- sympathy - it was a look of sympathy.

Eric seems to urge himself to continue to speak. ‘’I was going through my mum's photo albums,’’ he begins, fidgeting with the tie of the damned dressing gown. ‘’And there was someone I’d never seen before, this mixed race kid, right..’’

‘’Fuck off,’’ Dele mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair, his curls tangled from his long night’s sleep.

‘’It was fucking weird .’’ Eric says, desperately trying to stop Dele from walking away from him. ‘’The kid was in a family photo with Kate, her mum- Lilian- and this other black guy. And I - Dele-’’ he grabs his hand. ‘’I thought it might’ve been you but I didn’t say anything because i wasn’t sure. But then Lilian was acting up- remember when she pretended not to have seen you before? So we figured that-’’

‘’..We?’’ Dele finds enough air to finally interject. ‘’Who’s we ?’’

‘’Del..’’ Eric couldn’t even look at him.

‘’John, right? You and John.’’ The we was them. Eric and John. John and Eric, figuring out Dele’s past like it was a designated school project to ‘’help out the poor’’, something they maybe mused over during lunch time as a joke of sorts. ‘’When did you find the photos?’’ He questions then because Eric was being vague about it, about everything.

Eric blinks at him, eyelashes fanning against the tops of his cheeks. His eyelashes are damp slightly but Dele kicks viciously at the instinct begging inside him to pull Eric into a hug, to kiss his eyelids or some other mushy crap. ‘’A-around December.’’ he admits at last.

‘’So,’’ he mentally counts in his head, quicker than he has in any of his maths lessons. ‘’Four months ago. That's a hundred and twenty days. How many times did we see each other? Fuck, how many times did you fucking kiss me knowing that information?’’ he’s pushing Eric’s hands away now.

Eric sniffs and chokes out a sob as Dele scrambles to find his boxers that had been pulled off in a haste the night before.

‘’I’m so sorry .’’ Eric snivels, rushing to close the blinds now and plunging them into darkness. ‘’I didn’t know for sure.’’

But he’d deemed it a possibility for four months. That was such a long time. That was ages ago. He’d been thinking about it since last year.

"You should have told me. We could have worked it out together. But you ran to John of all people-" even thinking about it makes Dele run delirious with anger. John, again. It was always John. Eric would always fucking be involved with John somehow.

‘’But I didn’t run to him!’’ Eric yells now, voice strained, his throat is probably dry and the tears were leaking down his face.

‘’I don’t believe you.’’ Dele says, hopping into his boxer shorts and then looking to grab his shirt.

The room still smells like sex. Like Eric underneath him calling him baby, then on top of him telling him he was in love with him, it all still smelt like yesterday and it was irritating the fuck out of him because his mind was spinning as he tried to process everything. In the short term all he could focus on was his anger and not even on the most revealing of new information that Lilian was his fucking mother. That Kate was his half sister or whatever. And that’s not even considering when Kate had told him her brother had apparently died when he was younger, a story surely fed to her by Lilian.

‘’I know it sounds bad, I know- but I didn’t tell him about it- he found out; he came into my room-’’

‘’So you’ve been seeing each other behind my back?’’

‘’That's not fucking true and you know it!’’ Eric cried, rubbing away his tears with the back of his hand fiercely. ‘’You know that I’m in love with you, you know that.’’

‘’I don’t know anything. I don’t fucking know anything, evidently as you’ve literally just ruined everything I thought was true so I don’t-I don’t-’’ his chest tightened as his thoughts ran ahead of him. ‘’And you’ve lied to my face so many times,’’ he says, some memories hitting him in the face. ‘’At Diana’s funeral, when Lilian was fucking staring at me, you knew why. You fucking knew, Eric."

He can't stay here anymore, like this. He just couldn’t. Because he's discovered he is the product of one of Lilian's flings or whatever. Because Eric is seriously attempting to break his heart whether he means to or not. Because it felt like everything Eric had been saying was disingenuous, it felt like every moment had been wasted, it felt like he’s been laughing behind his back with John this whole time. Like John had dared Eric to make Dele fall in love with him just for the thrill of it.

"I tried to tell you.’’ Eric says clinging to his shirt like a vice now as Dele does up his buttons, fingers shaking. ‘’But something always came up.."

Dele scoffed. ‘’Like what?’’

‘’Like..’’ Eric bit on his lip, shame colouring his cheeks red. ‘’Like you kissing me or just-’’

‘’Oh what a crime it should be to kiss someone that looks like you, right? I take full responsibility.’’ he said, sarcasm dripping in excess.

Eric shook his head.‘’ Dele -stay, please.’’

"I can’t. Think about it Eric. Really think about it. I’ve grown up thinking I’m essentially an orphan for a decade and then you spring this shit on me and expect me to what- cuddle you ?" Hes getting up now, stumbling around then, looking for his phone, finding his socks. Eric follows him silently, eyes rimmed red. Dele can’t look at him.

‘’Talked to John behind my back, lied to me, told John before you told me. You’d tell the world before you told me! Does Eriksen know?’’

‘’No! It’s not like that. Stop, Del’’ Eric takes a sharp inhale of breath.

He knows the older boy is sobbing but he just can’t - Dele can’t look at him. He’s been flung into a pit and left to the lions. ‘’And all your snotty classmates do they know?’’

"It's not like that!" Eric matches his tone. "You're deliberately twisting it up." he walks past Dele to stand by the door, arms spread out behind him.

"Get out of my way." Dele tells him quietly , after hes done putting on his shoes.

"Stop acting like this." Eric says, not moving an inch. "Did you forget the past twenty four hours? You just fucked me; fucked me the way I’m supposed to be fucked-like I'm something special . You’re not...you're supposed to leave the people you love.’’

‘’And you’re not supposed to hide things from the people you love.’’ Dele counters, slipping on his jacket. ‘’Especially something like that. So I guess it doesn’t mean anything.’’ he adds blinking back tears.

He couldn't tell the difference between fiction and fact anymore, the fine line had blurred and then some. "I'm still me from yesterday," Eric says grabbing the sides of his face gently, wanting him to listen .

‘’Not to me.’’ Dele responds quietly, taking Eric’s hand away. ‘’This whole time I’ve made up this version of you in my head; as this victim, this rich kid in need of saving. I wanted to be that person, I really wanted to save you." He takes Eric's hands down from his face. "But that's not who you are. You're not the fucking victim, Eric. I am."

There's a sharp knock on the door and they have a couple of seconds to get out of the way before the door is swung open and a member of staff wheels in their breakfast in its lavish form, overflowing bowls of new New York bagels and French croissants, two plates with a full on English breakfast.

Eric isn't even looking at the food, his blue eyes are focused on Dele, watching him attentively. Theres something bugging Dele and he knows its the texts from john. He needs to see it.

‘’Good morning,’’ the man says chirpily, arranging some of the cutlery with a flourish, his butler uniform a fine shade of emerald green.

Dele grunts something back and Eric tries to greet him politely. ‘’Can I see the texts?’’ he raises an eyebrow at Eric who unlocks his phone and tosses it at him before turning away to make conversation with the man.

John is his most recent contact - which in itself is annoying.

JOHN STONES

What do you think happened to Dele's father tho?

I cant fucking wrap my head around this.

Lilian has always been fucked but creating a narrative about a dead younger brother of Kate's is next level.

And then the texts that had come in that morning.

JOHN STONES

Heard you and him are staying at The Ritz-bit fancy maybe?

ERIC

Why are you stalking me

JOHN STONES

Its Westminster, I know everything about everything and I was told you were caught buying fucking lube

Sleeping with Lilian’s son is pretty low, stop whoring around.

You’re still not telling him what you know are you? Always been a little devious..I taught you well ;)

It makes him sick to his stomach, the whole conversation, every ounce of it. John’s arrogance, the way Eric responds gives him chills, the casual discussion of him and Lilian, the way John carries himself, even though his texts, disgusts him.

The man smiles at them, first at Eric next to him and then towards Dele frowning in the corner, clearly oblivious to the tension in the room that's hovering above them all and mistaking it for sexual tension. "Good night?" He asks, maybe he can smell the sex in the air, the fact that they've both got serious cases of bed hair.

Eric doesn't say anything and neither does Dele, he's looking at Eric, hoping he can use his brilliant capacity for words in the English dictionary to find words to make him stay. But he doesn't speak. So Dele doesn't stay.

He clears his throat. "I’m gonna head off actually, so please don’t add my share of food onto his bill.’’ Dele slips the phone into the pocket of Eric’s dressing gown and Eric grabs his hand.

‘’Eric, I’m not going to stay…’’

‘’I know.’’ Eric says, biting down on his bottom lip. ‘’Just..just get back safe, okay. I know its a lot for you to take in.’’

‘’Not as if that bothered you before.’’

‘’ Dele .’’

‘’I’m leaving.’’ he announces, walking out of the room-just like that. He can’t look back or he might see all that reminded him of yesterday and cry himself into a heap. He’s going down the hallway, sees that woman from last night waiting by the lift-her hair pulled into a casual ponytail as she scrolls through her phone and decides to take the stairs instead.

Usually when they argue, Eric follows him but he knows that won't happen now and he doesn't want it to. He’s just so fucking disappointed, is all. He knew what he was getting in to when he started to like Eric, he’d never exactly been an open book, and he was narcissistic in many ways, self-destructive in others. But still he'd perhaps been a bit too reverent, maybe naïve even.

And as Dele was stumbling out of the hotel he was trying to adjust to his new reality as Lillian's son. As Kate's half brother.

The daylight outside was startling, blinding, just like the truth was.

He doesn't break until he gets on the train heading back to East London and then because it's a Sunday morning and most people are too lazy to be out at eleven. Theres no one there to judge him and he realises that he's been crying halfway through his train journey and he doesn't even know when he started but the tears don't stop.

The corridor feels colder when he steps inside, colder than it should be in April, after his journey back home.

Home - he realises belatedly. It felt like home to him now. And maybe it had felt like this for longer than he wanted to admit. It was hard not to form a connection- to not grow an infinity towards the way the latch on the back of the door jangled when he put it back in place or the way his hands always instinctively - always reached for the light switch. Even as stubborn as he was, patterns of familiarity could only breed fondness. Even if he didn’t want it to.

He almost gets lost amid the coats on their pegs, Kyle has one with a large amount of fur on the hood and it hits Dele square in the face.

He had stopped crying ten minutes ago.

As he moved to slip off his trainers, he remembered with a jolt that he had left one of his socks back at the Ritz. Eric would have that now. Another thing he gets to keep, along with all of Dele’s firsts; the first boy he ever kissed, ever fucked, ever loved.

He shrugs off his coat, suddenly hating it. Eric’s hands had been all over it when they were outside of the club, and then again when they had been squeezed together in the backseat of the cab to the hotel, fingers hovering near one another. The coat was stained with memories and moments that he wanted to forget. Words he wanted to forget. He was Lilian’s son. Fuck .

Holy fuck. Her reaction when she’d seen him at Kate’s house, that shitty look in her eyes. She had been ashamed to see him. When she’d given him away- whenever that was; she probably thought that she would never see him again. She hadn’t planned on seeing him again. She wanted to live her life, go to the grave and never ever see Dele again .

It was the reality of what he had always quietly thought. Unwanted by his parents, left to rot in a scattered array of foster homes, not knowing anything. How his chest constricted at the thought of the many times he’d been to Kate’s house, dwelled in the living room, the kitchen, lying on the carpet as they smoked weed around him- not knowing that he, too, had grown up there, that the walls belonged to him as much as they belonged to Kate. All the information he had been robbed of. All the things Eric had never said. And it hurt all over again. This constant revelation poked at his skin, leaving him overwhelmed. How did it get to this point?

There was movement on the stairs and Dele was brought out of his melancholy state as he spotted the blonde streaks of Stacey’s bob. She was frozen on the spot, her hand on the bannister, blinking at him- waking herself up. He noticed the pillow crease on her cheek, the tired crease of her eyes.

‘’Dele.’’ she says, like she is still half asleep, droopy, and slow. She takes another two steps, her bare feet knocking over a bunch of letters onto the floor. Probably water bills.

Dele swallows, his mouth dry. He’s caught halfway between absolutely fuming and silently dwelling in his sadness, wondering which one he goes down, which path he opts for. Then he thinks that he doesn’t have to choose. He can be both.

‘’Do you know who our parents are?’’ he asks bluntly, nails digging into his own palm. He wants it to hurt. His question is evidently unexpected because Stacey’s eyes widen slightly, her blue eyes suddenly much more awake. Everything reminds Dele of him.

‘’Dele, what-’’ she splutters. ‘’ What ?’’

‘’Be honest. Why can’t someone just be honest with me?’’ the pain seeps through, voice cracks on the last word.

Stacey finishes her descent of the stairs, pulling the sleeves of her jumper down, she places a hand on his shoulder, sighing, running a hand through her hair. ‘’It's-I’m sorry but it's confidential. Legal stuff. If the parent chooses to stay anonymous then-’’

‘’I know, anyways.’’ Dele says, shrugging her off. ‘‘I know . So, you might as well tell me. All those files on us locked up in your room, think we haven’t noticed them? You might as well tell me about Lilian.’’

Stacey gives him a strange look. And there's something weird about the day, it's around midday but it feels earlier. The time feels off. Or maybe Dele is just overthinking it.

He decides not to say that Kyle knows who his parents are too, as annoyed as he is. It wouldn’t be fair to tell her without his permission even if he wants to pull that card so desperately, wants Stacey to know that they aren’t as clueless as she thinks they are. Not anymore.

‘’Where have you been?’’ she asks then, deflecting. ‘’You disappeared all yesterday and show up out of nowhere?’’

‘’I’m eighteen.’’ Dele replies. ‘’Why does it matter?’’

‘’Because I’m still your carer until you finish sixth form.’’ she reprimands. ‘’So yes, it does matter. You can’t do what you want. Where did you go?’’ Stacey repeats giving him a look. She does that thing where even if she is a little mad, it never feels like it.

Dele knows that she isn’t mad, he can mostly just feel her disappointment and frustration. It makes it harder for him to rationalise arguing with her. He wrinkles his nose and stares down at his feet. Because he doesn’t fucking have his socks. ‘’Spent the night with a friend,’’ he says quietly.

‘’Is it that girlfriend of yours, Ruby - or something?’’ Stacey asks, her voice softening because maybe she can see the stiffness of his shoulders.

‘’She’s not my girlfriend.’’ he replies.

‘’Oh, Dele.’’ she says, taking a step forward sympathetically.

She must think Ruby broke his heart or something. She got it all wrong. It was someone else. He takes a step back. ‘’What do you know about Lilian?’’ he questions, allowing the desperation to edge into his voice. He doesn’t care anymore. ‘’Please.’’

Stacey is quiet for a long while before she nods and he almost doesn’t catch it, she nods her head towards the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. She yawns, cracking her neck and Dele is reminded of the sun high in the sky, the laziness of a Sunday afternoon. He sits opposite her on the dining table, feeling the coldness of the room hug his arms. There’s drops of milk on the floor, presumably from Jamie’s late-night snacks.

‘’When I first got your file,’’ Stacey begins, placing her hands in front of her, pressing her palms into the wood. ‘’I was - it was weird because usually parents have got tragic pasts. You know, they’re druggies or they’re struggling financially. But Lilian- but your mum, she’s well off. She was a lawyer before she had you- immigration cases, legal malpractice that sort of thing. She was into justice. I remember reading the file in surprise because she had everything.’’ Stacey pauses to make sure he’s still listening, and he is, of course he is , but he can’t look at her, he’s looking at the ceiling instead but he’s listening. A big shot lawyer, he thinks.

‘’She had a daughter a year before you. I don’t know who the dad was, his name wasn’t there.’’

‘’Kate.’’ Dele whispers. Fucking Kate. Kate, who was older than all of them, a happy go lucky girl who opened doors for herself and supported Labour, who complained about her mum’s constant flings. ‘’And then she got into a relationship with one of her clients- Kehinde Alli. The home office wanted to deport him back to Nigeria, he came to her for help...’’

Dele squeezes his eyes shut.

‘’They had an affair. It was scandalous.’’

‘’Scandalous?’’ he repeats, opening his eyes to face her now. She's studying him carefully; the reluctance is there in her eyes. But Dele needs her to go on. ‘’Why was it scandalous?’’

‘’Well, for one. It’s unprofessional.’’ Stacey answers. ‘’And two- he was black, she was white. In 2002, a lot of people had a problem with it. You have to consider the MacPherson report which had come out recently about institutional racism within the police- racial tensions were high, especially in the more suburban areas. And here was this successful lawyer in love with a black man.’’

It sounded familiar, he realised with a lurch in his stomach. It’s familiar. Because on those days when Eric couldn’t convince him to study and they would just lay in bed together, Eric would tell him how many of his classmates had a problem with Dele, how they didn’t understand how the violin prodigy would settle for a raggedy state school kid. It’s ironic, then, that he would end up in a parallel situation to his mother. Apples truly never fell too far from the tree.

‘’She was pregnant with you, then. They were still together but it was getting harder. Lilian lost a lot of friends. When she had you, she lost even more. They made it work for a bit, you went to a private nursery Dele- can you imagine that? There were around twelve of you, they read you poetry during your naps,’’ she adds with a small laugh.

But when Dele thinks of poetry, he can only think of Eric pouring his soul into essays. So, he doesn't join in.

‘’But things were getting bad, your dad was receiving a lot of racist abuse, verbal, physical as well. He just upped one day and left - he couldn’t handle it.’’ Dele bites down on the insides of his cheek. ‘’She was devastated, heartbroken. But Dele- you reminded her of him. Of her love that had abandoned her.’’

‘’So, she abandoned me.’’ Dele finishes, words hard and rough on his tongue.

‘’She dropped you off at an orphanage centre,’’ Stacey says sadly, ‘’With the note that’s in your files- everything I’m telling you is what she wrote down. She thought it would be better for you.’’

‘’She was wrong.’’ he insists.

‘’Dele,’’ Stacey says softly, reaching an arm out to touch him. He jerks back.

‘’Why should I be punished for what my dad did? It isn’t fair. Don’t you agree? It’s not fair , is it?’’

‘’It’s not my place to say.’’

‘’That’s bullshit.’’ he says with venom, surprising himself. Stacey gasps slightly and he immediately regrets his tone. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ he says hurriedly. ‘’I’m sorry.’’

‘’Dele, you’re shaking.’’ she says, leaning across the table.

He doesn’t respond but he realises she is right. Almost subconsciously he was shaking, he felt extremely jittery. He waited eighteen years just to hear that his coward of a mother gave up on him because she was heartbroken. Boo-fucking- hoo .

‘’Where did you go last night?’’ she asks again, persistent.

‘’I already told you.’’ he answers, rushed.

‘’You were fine yesterday, Dele. You couldn’t stop smiling. You walked in here this morning a different person. So, what happened yesterday? You can tell me, you know.’’

‘’No, I can’t.’’ he says instinctively.

Stacey crosses the table to his side, grabs the chair next to him, concern written all over her face. And when he thinks about it, he knows deep down that even though she is getting paid for this and it's sort of her job, Stacey cared about him. She did.

‘’You can tell me, Dele.’’

He pauses, looking down at his hands, as if the answers are written on his palms. It isn’t of course.

‘’Did someone upset you?’’ She pushes gently.

A beat. ‘’Yeah.’’ he admits.

‘’Did you care a lot about this person?’’ she asks.

A beat. A sigh. ‘’Yeah.’’

She doesn’t really push it and draws him into a hug, rubbing at his shoulders gently. ‘’Welcome to the adult world, Dele.’’

++

Jesse corners Kyle and Dele after school.

He just about manages to grab them together. Kyle’s just come out of his maths teacher’s office, Mr Jenkins pushing him with extra resources now that the A-Level exams were dawning soon, and Dele had been walking around sulkily out of his English class quite content with leaving immediately. Adaobi had given him a wave as she strutted past, her schoolbag full and Dele had managed a weak smile in return.

Kyle raised an eyebrow at the interaction, his curiosity as large as his nose. ‘’Since when did you two become best friends?’’

‘’Just drop it, you dick.’’ Dele muttered.

‘’ Oi .’’ Kyle nudged him, invading his personal space. ‘’Miserable Dele’s back. I didn’t miss him.’’

‘’I really do not care, Kyle.’’

Jesse rolled his eyes and started walking towards the school gates, gesturing for them to follow him. ‘’Whilst you two have been gallivanting in West London with the rich- some of us, meaning myself, have been - have a nice day Mrs Siaw - have been doing an insane amount of undercover work.’’ He paused to scan his lanyard and then strolled through the gates, avoiding the year sevens who always clustered around in packs shouting and screaming.

‘’Right. So, in layman terms?’’ Dele pursues.

‘’I found out where they shipped Ella off to.’’

Kyle whistles clearly impressed.

Dele frowns in disbelief. ‘’What-seriously?’’ ‘’What are you-trying to steal her back?’’

‘’Do you think I’m that stupid, Dele? Look, I know she is never coming back. But the least we could do is say goodbye to her. Properly.’’

‘’Well, shit.’’ Kyle grins. ‘’I’m down. I miss that kid.’’

Jesse raises an eyebrow at Dele and Kyle crosses his arms as he too gives him a look. Really, it’s a no brainer. He wants to see Ella. He wants to make sure she’s okay. There is this feeling of responsibility he harbours towards her.

‘’Where is she, then?’’ Dele concedes.

‘’Hertfordshire. St Albans. Train time, lads.’’

Dele tuts. ‘’Isn’t that place full of abbeys?’’

‘’At least we know she is getting a good education.’’ Kyle says and Dele gives him a look. ‘’What?’’ He defends himself. ‘’Dad says education is key.’’

Dele bites his tongue and flashes a smile instead. ‘’ Wow , Kyle. Your dad is so smart.’’

Jesse snorts and ruffles Dele’s hair. ‘’I missed miserable Del. He was moving like a lovesick puppy at one point.’’

‘’Lovesick?’’

Jesse laughs as they wait to catch the bus to the station. ‘’Well, yeah. I mean I could tell you were getting the pipe good at one point. And it wasn’t from Ruby, was it? You act different around her now.’’

He hates how observant Jesse is.

‘’Ruby is one of my best friends.’’ he says mildly. ‘’I’d like to keep it that way.’’

Kyle snorts. ‘’Not when she was giving you head, mate.’’

‘’Has anyone ever even sucked your dick before, Kyle?’’ Dele asks bluntly much to the disapproval of a few year nines.

Kyle splutters and Jesse laughs, falling over himself. ‘’ No way . Don’t ever talk on a drill beat ever again you virgin .’’

Kyle’s parents’ money means they’ve got enough for the tickets. It’s all very last minute. It feels almost like a mini adventure. And as Dele leans his head against the window inside one of the train carriages, he feels that it's probably something that he needs. To get lost for a second outside of the capital. Away from the demands of exams season and Eric and Lilian.

‘’So how exactly did you find out where Ella was?’’ He asks ten minutes after the trains started moving.

‘’I have my connections.’’ Jesse says secretively.

Kyle kicks his leg hard.

Jesse hisses and groans. ‘’Jesus, Kyle . Fine it was in Stacey’s drawer in her room. That draw’s got everything you know. My file’s in there- but I’d never look. Anyways, Ella goes to a primary school there, they close in an hour. We should make it. We’ll catch her at the gates.’’

‘’Wonder what her new mum is like.’’ Kyle says wistfully.

‘’Probably doesn’t have a suicidal girl in the house that’s for sure.’’ Jesse remarks.

‘’You know fuck all about Meghan so don’t speak on her.’’ Dele says fiercely.

It's quiet after that. He feels anxious the closer they get. He remembers why Ella was taken away in the first place. He hates that feeling of remembering a bad memory. Of forcing yourself to watch it play over in your head. Jesse pats his thigh supportively and Dele breathes a little easier. ‘’You’re good, Dele. It’s all good.’’

Ella is there at the gates, but Dele hates that he almost doesn’t recognise her.

They are hovering around the primary school, watching all the classes come out and Jesse almost yelps so Dele looks in his direction. They look a sight in their London uniform for sure but everyone’s too polite to say anything. And then there’s Ella. Curls tamed, now permed, and straightened, That's the first thing he notices. Her hair . And maybe they’re all thinking the same thing. She’s standing near her teacher, eyes naturally bright as they usually are. Is she seven now? Or still six? Dele can’t remember and he hates that he can’t.

Ella’s eyes land on them and her face brightens immediately. ‘’Jesse!’’ She practically yells and rushes forward to the annoyance of her primary school teacher, passing the gates and into Jesse’s arms who naturally scoots her up. Ella’s chubby arms wind around his neck in a tight hug. Something pulls in Dele’s chest.

‘’Hey, you.’’ Jesse says fondly. He tentatively touches her hair. ‘’You look a bit different, El.’’

‘’Mariyam thought my hair was too messy, so she made it neat!’’ Ella chortles. ‘’My friends at school like it. Hi Dele!’’ she grins at him with her cute little teeth.

‘’Ella.’’ Dele says, can’t help the fondness that creeps in. Then the aftermath. It’s your fault she’s gone you fucker, you’re fault she stuck with a semi racist foster mum who believes that her naturally curly hair is a mess.

‘Did you miss us?’’ Kyle asks.

‘’Course! I miss playing snakes and ladders. When can we play next? I don’t get to play that anymore...’’

The three boys all exchange a look.

‘’Um-’’ Jesse begins, shifting Ella’s weight to his left side. Ella blinks up at them, eyes full of naivety.

Dele thinks that something is wrong with this care system. And Dele also thinks that it’ll be a tragedy when Ella grows up and probably won’t remember any of them from her formative years. That kind of makes him angry too. Fleetingly, he wants to grab her and make a run for it. They’d be fast enough. And Ella wouldn’t mind. He would say they were playing tag.

‘’We’ll play real soon, El.’’ Kyle says, giving her cheek a little tap. ‘’You’ve gotten cuter.’’

Ella puckers her cheek purposefully and then grins cheekily. Jesse’s mask of a smile almost slips. Dele wonders how much time they have before he starts bawling.

‘’ Ella?! Ella!’’

A petite brunette walks briskly towards them, the metal clip of her purse clashing against the zip of her suit jacket. Prim and Proper. ‘’Get away from these boys. Get away from her.’’ She directs the latter part towards them, her lips curling as she reaches forward, the acrylic of her nails accidentally clipping on Ella’s hair. Ella makes a noise of discomfort and Jesse instinctively pulls her away from this woman. ‘’Careful.’’ he says, eyebrows furrowing.

‘’I’ll get the school to come out here right now and take down your names. I don’t want my Ella around strangers.’’ The woman grabs Ella anyways but is more careful with her hand placement this time.

‘’I know them!’’ Ella protests, although she is compliant in the woman’s hand. The woman- what Dele assumes is her new mum is very pretty although that might be because of some Botox she had done. Dele takes in her watch, the glimmer of her lashes.

Ella crosses the imaginary line back into the world she belongs to now and none of them fight it. The woman ignores Ella’s comment, turning purposefully, hand automatically going towards her phone peeking out from her front pockets as a black Jeep beeps loudly from the roadside, a driver lifting a few fingers in their direction.

‘’Ella, our rides here.’’

Ella nods as she is led away by her arm, still turning her small little face to look back towards the three older boys. ‘’Remember! Snakes and Ladders!’’

The woman tugs on her hand again and bends to her height, hissing something as she is guided towards the black car. She climbs in followed by Ella and the door is shut. The car drives off, stops at a red light and then drives off again.

Jesse breaks the silence with his movement, storming off back to the main road, strides long and brisk. Kyle drags his feet behind and Dele doesn’t move, still staring at the red light, watches some school kids cross the road. It’s probably the last time he will ever see her.

The winner takes it all. What was there to complain about? This was how it went. She would be looked after, she wouldn’t have to worry about lukewarm showers, she would have a better education, a better quality of life. What were they so mad about? What was so special about Stacey’s home that could even surmount a challenge to what Ella has here in St. Albans.

Eventually Dele follows the boys back to the station and they stand there waiting for the 16:48 back. Fuck, closure. He would be haunted by what-ifs forever and there was nothing he could do about it.

++

There’s a blonde girl shivering at the gates when Dele exits after the bell. When he gets closer, he realises that it's Kate. It’s a cold day in May and she’s practically swarmed by her coat- her nose just about peeking through. Dele stops in his stagger and stares. Kate hasn’t noticed him yet, she glances around curiously, hands withdrawn into her pockets, wisps of blonde hair smacking her in the face.

‘’Kate.’’ he calls as he gets closer. She faces him, half smiles and then flushes, making a face. It’s weird. This isn’t her territory. And it's weird because it’s usually Dele going into her world. So, this feels wrong.

‘’Dele.’’ She hugs him as he reaches her and then pulls back, looking at him for a beat longer than normal. ‘’Sorry I just showed up I just-’’ she swallows hard and stares harder. ‘’I can’t believe that you -’’ she grabs his cheek and then the other side.

Dele passively allows it to happen, looking down at Kate wondering if their eyes are the same but just different shades. Maybe they both share the same slope of their noses.

‘’That you…’’ she trails off, and half shrugs. ‘ ’You know . Is it weird that I’m excited about this? I’ve always liked you before but now this .’’ Around them hordes of school kids continue to exit, including Jesse who pauses to raise an eyebrow at Dele interacting with the perceived random blonde girl. ‘’I mean - we must go do something together! Want to go to the movies? My treat-’’

Dele jerks away, disappointed in Kate. But then why should he be? Even if they had gotten along at time, they were still two different people. They had been raised differently. They reacted differently to life altering revelations. Dele, in the aftermath, would brood and calculate, allowing the cloud of angst to hover daintily above his head. In contrast, Kate embraced the change and adapted.

Kate stares at him in shock. She was surprised by his behaviour. She doesn’t really know this Dele. The more pessimistic one, who hated the world. The way he used to be until he met Eric, when he had wanted to give the world to Eric and Eric had rejected it, rejected him and he hated the world again.

Jesse pipes up, interrupting them, his curiosity too great. ‘’Dele, who’s this then? Moved on quick from Ruby, I see.’’

Dele sneered at Jesse. ‘’It’s not like that.’’

Kate gave Jesse a friendly smile. ‘’Oh, Hello! Nice to meet you; I’m Dele’s… sister - Kate. Are you Dele’s friend? ‘’

‘’Um …’’ Jesse stared questioningly at Dele. ‘’Dele and I were raised in the same Foster home.’’ he looked back over at Kate. ‘’I’m sorry, did you just introduce yourself as his sister?’’

Kate frowned, her smile fading. ‘’Did you just say Foster Home?’’

‘’Yeah, foster home. Dele affirmed. ‘’ Bet Lilian didn’t mention that part to you, did she? I was raised in about five foster homes but the one I share with Jesse has been my longest. That’s where all the kids who’ve been dumped go to stay.’’

Kate looked shocked, guilt swarming her features. ‘’I’m so sorry…’’

Dele just shook his head. ‘’There’s nothing to be sorry about. Because at least my foster mum tried with me. And I-’’ he glanced at Jesse. ‘’I’m not ashamed to be from one. I’m just annoyed that my mum ‘’ he winces at that; my mum ‘’ that she saw me and was never going to say anything. That’s what really pisses me off. It’s the way how after eighteen years when I saw her, she still looked disgusted by me. Like what the fuck is that?’’

‘’I’m so confused right now.’’ Jesse admits.

‘’I’ll explain later, Jess.’’

Kate looks annoyed too. ‘’She’s a bitch.’’

‘’Isn’t he talking about your mum?’’ Jesse says.

‘’Yeah, so? She is still a bitch. It’s a shame you can’t choose your parents. My mum just lies to me over and over. First, she lied that my younger brother had died in a mysterious accent and then the other day, Eric told me about you, Dele, and I was so happy. When I went to Lilian, she played it off like she was surprised. Like the body they had found at the scene of the car accident was mistaken and its so fucked…God, it’s disgusting. She handled all of this with the grace of an elephant. Maybe she has hardened over the years but it's still no excuse for my- for our mum.’’

‘’Sounds like one hell of a drama.’’ Jesse states. He nudges Dele lightly. ‘’Good story to tell over dinner?’’

‘’Why don’t we just tell you now?’’ Kate suggests. ‘’I’ll take you both to Subway. My treat.’’

They end up in Subway, Dele and Jesse sat opposite Kate. Dele remembers why he liked her. She is impassioned and honest and direct. She listens to everything Dele has to say with an open mind.

This is how it goes. Dele opens up. About everything. About his trips to Westminster, about Eric too though he dumbs the details down slightly doesn't mention the intimate details with him at the Ritz but does mention they had some sort of romantic relationship. He pauses to look nervously at Jesse after he reveals this. Jesse nods at him encouragingly, unfazed and Dele, relieved, continues. For all the banter they share between them, Jesse is truly Dele’s brother.

It’s almost like a therapy session. Jesse even tells them both how hard he is taking little Ella being moved away from Stacey. Kate comes clean about how she suspected something was going on between Dele and Eric, how she was protective of them both separately in different ways and didn’t think it would work.

‘’Why?’’ Dele had wondered curiously.

‘’The timing.’’ she says. ‘’I mean think about it. He just got out of the longest relationship of his life whilst simultaneously being around his ex all the time every day at school. You were dealing with your insecurities about your background and your sexuality. He’s got all this pressure on him for his Oxford admission. You’ve got the biggest exams of your life coming up. I think if you had met in five years from now, you’d have been good for each other.’’

‘’You’re forgetting one detail, Kate. He withheld the biggest secret about me from myself .’’

‘’Dele, what are you really angry about? The secret itself or that he held it from you? Because the secret isn’t his fault. It’s mums.’’

Jesse tsks. ‘’Were you sent here to defend him?’’

‘’He’s still my friend. I’m trying to see it from his perspective too.’’

Dele shakes his head. ‘’You don’t get it. I told him everything . I showed him everything.’’

‘’Did you ever bring him into your world?’’ Kate questions, silencing the table.

‘’My…world?’’

‘’The only times you hung out were in Westminster. In his ends , you know. My house. His house. Our school. You never introduced him to Jesse, for instance. It might not sound like much, but that type of thing would fuck with Eric’s head I can imagine.’’

‘’Thats- that’s because I didn’t want them to know that I was gay, though.’’

‘’Does he know that?’’

‘’Oh, fuck off, Kate.’’ Dele says stubbornly, because annoyingly he can see her point a little bit. But he's still angry at Eric and doesn’t want to give him anything.

‘’I’m right, aren’t I?’’

‘’Again, I ask, did he send you here?’’ Jesse asks pointedly.

‘’Nope, he didn’t. I’m too observant and He’s too prideful for that. He didn’t even mention anything about you two, but he started hanging out at my place more. And he’s batshit obsessed with his violin again so, I figured something had shifted. When Dele was around, he played with that instrument less. I think you distracted him too much.’’

Dele swallows. ‘’Well, in that case. Maybe it's good that things are this way. I wouldn’t want to get in the way between him and Oxford.’’

The conversation moves on after that, back to Lilian. Kate is proactive. She feels Dele’s anger towards their mum and absorbs it, then she adapts.

Jesse asks cutely for Kate to order him another sandwich and she agrees, rolling her eyes. They just met but Dele can see that Kate is kind of fond of him, already. Jesse has that sort of personality. And for Jesse…well, he was going to milk her offer to pay for stuff as much as possible.

Whilst the waitress is coming with Jesse’s extra sandwich Kate leans forward on the table, staring Dele dead in the eye. ‘’I think we should confront Lilian. Together.’’

++

Lilian eats at his thoughts for the next week. He’s in Maths and she’ll pop into his head when Kyle makes a joke about rich white people, in the library when Marcus mentions that his mum bakes, on the school bus when he’ll overhear his schoolmates’ stark conversations about women who sleep around.

Dele and Kate decide via iMessage on a Friday night with Kyle blasting Drake from his headphones beside him that they need to confront her.

Eric always mentioned how the whole school was preparing for the play Macbeth, the school’s golden production for that academic year, how serious everyone took it, how big it was that parents usually came in to watch and brought their friends with them to admire potential theatre stars. If logic was on their side, Lilian would be there.

If she can put down her bottle of champagne for a minute, then she’ll be there, Kate adds.

And then they’ll confront her.

What could he say? His mum was a lawyer, a confrontational force to be reckoned with. Except she really was just a coward. Not Dele, though. Not anymore. So, it goes. Dele can be about justice, too.

Eric doesn’t text, doesn’t call, doesn’t pop up on Snapchat, doesn’t watch his stories and Dele notices . He can’t help but notice. The last thing Eric had sent him was a text on the day before his birthday asking if he wanted to hang out the following day. Dele stares at the letters on his screen until his vision hurts and he puts his phone away.

He remembers Kate’s words; he's too prideful. That had been how he had first met Eric, anyways. The prideful, blonde, and talented older boy who stalked along pavements as if he owned them all, black violin case in hand. Egoistic. Narcissistic. When had it changed for Dele? When had Dele began to see Eric as something other than those traits, when had Dele began to see Eric as gorgeous and infallible instead?

++

The play takes place in mid-May.

Dele leaves school early before period 5, runs home to get changed and then hops on the train to Westminster. He didn’t want to wear his ugly green uniform. He settled on a black shirt, jeans, and basic black trainers. The tube is hot and stuffy and there’s a couple opposite him that can’t keep their hands off each other.

It’s almost quarter to six when he’s near St Andrews, the road busier than usual, there’s more fancy looking cars parked nearby, more tall men who look like they’ve just arrived from work, leaving their briefcases inside the car, women who let down their professional buns to go watch their children for a bit.

He watches from opposite the road, leaning against the pearly gates of a house nearby, watches the world that he’s supposed to be a part of. The money, the tinkly laughter, the excessive amounts of jewellery, glossed hair, the sense of entitlement. It’s supposed to be his. All of it. But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t picture himself amongst them, seamlessly just another John, just another Harry, just another - Eric.

Eric is there by the gates, welcoming in the spectators with a smile, his blue eyes glazed over and glassy- blank. His white shirt is crisp against his navy-blue blazer and his trousers are prim and proper, his dark blonde hair grazing the nape of his neck, eyelashes fanning against his cheekbones. So yeah, he’s pretty. But he also looks like a doll, Dele realises. Sort of emotionless and not real, fun to play with, nice to stare at, but empty inside. He looks high, Dele observes. So, he’s back to that, then.

Eric’s handing out the Macbeth programme- an enlarged photo of John gracing the front. He’s most definitely the lead actor. Everyone stops to talk to him- in love with him, probably asking him about his violin, how brave he is for continuing on without his mum and dad, how intelligent he is for getting an offer from Oxford.

‘’Dele?’’ he hears his name, spinning around. It’s Kate, her blonde shoulder length hair is straight, framing her face. She’s staring at him, her eyes roaming up and down him. Kate shakes her head, laughing at herself. ‘’I’m sorry...I hope you weren’t waiting long. I - yeah, Lilian’s definitely coming. I know where she going to be sat and stuff.’’

Dele blinks at her, watching the sun light up her hair. His sister. Well, half-sister. He swallows hard, every time he sees her it is sort of like a trigger is unlocked in his brain. In that split second, he mourns for his four-year-old self. How had he cried for his mother as she dumped him at an orphanage?

‘’What’s sad is that I’m supposed to be dead. Remember that?’’ he spits out.

Kate bites her lip with a frown. ‘’I’ll never forgive her for that.’’

A girl passes by just then, saying a friendly hello to Kate and then blankly staring at Dele. Dele snorts cynically. ‘’What, you're not going to introduce me? Ashamed of me? The literal black sheep.’’’ he says sarcastically. ‘’I’m the bad family secret, after all.’’

‘’No.’’ Kate insists. ‘’ No. ‘’ she grabs him by the wrist firmly. ‘’You need to stop thinking like that. I’m a little bit nervous about our plan but I am not ashamed or anything like that. I like you and I want you here, okay?’’

Dele nods jerkily. Kate hugs him. Dele hesitates before reciprocating. ‘’You’re going to be fine.’’ she tells him quietly by his ear.

She pulls back and then stands beside him and they both watch people enter the school. Kate entertains him by naming as many students as she can and one fact about them. Dele feels himself relaxing.

Eventually, Kate points out that the grey range rover that has pulled up on the opposite side of the road belongs to Lilian. They both stole a glance at the other as Lilian exited, blonde hair strung into a ponytail.

Dele watched curiously as Lilian walked up to Eric to collect the flyer for that evening. It was the only time Eric's doll-like expression slipped during that whole time. His blue eyes hardened as he looked at Lilian. Lilian looked as if she was saying something to him and Eric was responding rigidly. As the exchange ended, Lillian patted the buttons on his blazer and then took her flyer and walked inside the large, imposing school. Eric bit down hard on his lower lip and stared at the ground until the next parent came along and he straightened up again, a perfect smile present.

Even when Kate leaves to go inside, assuring Dele they will meet inside, Dele hovers around, still leaning against that same spot on the wall and Eric is still there. Eric’s still there, greeting all the new guests, playing his role of the ordained golden boy, his smile so perfected you’d think it was real.

By the time he manages to get inside the school, it's ten minutes before the gates close. The boy he collects his handout from is not Eric - who had disappeared inside earlier - but is another blonde boy.

Dele stares down at the leaflet.

ST ANDREWS PRESENTS TO YOU...MACBETH! STARRING THE SCHOOLS VERY OWN ACTING PRODIGY, JOHN STONES…

Then there were different columns in the leaflet, about how hard the year 13’s had worked on it. They mentioned Stones wanted to attend Durham university to pursue a degree in acting. There was also a quick synopsis on what Macbeth was about for anyone who was not familiar with it. It was a play which dramatised the damaging physical and psychological effects of political ambition on those who seek power for its own sake.

Not to mention some sort of statement as well from the Headteacher Mr Eriksen and his son, Christian Eriksen, who stated that the play Macbeth had a personal place in his heart due to its ‘unfounded brilliance. It was a no-brainer that John should have gotten the main part. I also urge all to pay special attention to the interlude between Act II and III where Eric Dier will present us with an original piece on his famous violin…’

He thought back to the first time he had entered this school with Ruby by his side, to the open and almost suffocating admiration the school had for both Eric and John, their pictures and accolades and names were all around every nook and cranny. And tonight, for them, it would be showtime for the two stars of the school.

Dele is sandwiched in between all the legions of families, nephews and aunties, uncles, chattering excitedly, loose notes of cash and change sounding like bells in their pockets. They jingle around him like music. Maybe he should have gone in earlier with Kate - it would have been a less awkward experience than it is now, whilst he hangs back and tries not to bump into anybody. There’s this feeling of build-up- of excitement. Even he feels it and he’s nowhere as near versed in the language of theatre as some other people here.

One of the student ambassadors’ shepherds them towards the theatre hall and Dele remembers coming here before with Ruby, all that while ago. It’s dark in the room but not pitch black and there’s a tangible sort of anticipation.

Dele gets a text from Kate. Lilian is in the front row , she tells him.

There’s someone politely asking that they turn their phones to silent mode as they make their way inside. The seats are almost full, the audience stretching around the stage where the actors will perform- forming a circle. How must it be to perform on a stage where you are being watched from all four corners. John Stones would know.

He refuses to sit down immediately because he couldn’t give a fuck about Macbeth and is only here to find Lilian. Eager to check if Kate is correct, he searches for Lilian in the front row. He spots her blonde highlights across the theatre, her legs crossed with heels on the end in a modest blue dress that looks like satin. He wasn't able to take in her appearance fully before but now he can. She’s got sapphire earrings to match and a blue headband that pushes her ponytail back, holding it into place. She is next to a child who keeps fiddling with her Nintendo DS and a man - who seems like the girl's father-who keeps checking his watch, as if it's killing him to sit still.

He wonders what his dad saw in Lilian. Wonders when their relationship had crossed the line of professional and into the realms of something more serious, if they had been happy when they discovered she was pregnant with him. But even if she had been she had still given him away in the end so it can’t have meant much really.

Dele knows where she is sitting when the lights dim completely, and the stage lights appear.

John dominates the expanse of the stage. As the main character he's almost in every scene, his arrogant haughty face contorting in surprise or anger, the familiar curl of his lip. There’s a hush whenever he’s in the scene, like they’re all watching something special . He hates this place; he realises as the play drags on. It’s overwhelmed with perfume and the scent of money, the reeking of entitlement. And just like that, he gets why Ruby left. He understands now. He wouldn’t survive here either.

He’s eying the pathway to the stage and then the pathway to the other side where he knows Lilian is seated. The plan with Kate is that they confront Lilian at the end of the play and together, but Dele can’t wait. He doesn’t want to stay for the whole thing.

So, he emerges from his place in the shadows and crosses over, shortens the distance between him and his mum. He goes round the back, so he isn’t walking in front of anyone. But if he wants to get right to Lilian then he will need to. Even then, he waits a few moments longer because he’s a bit of a coward and waits for John to finish his scene. Fortunately, the interlude comes soon after that. He takes the chance. The lights are on, but they are low, almost indistinguishable. He finds her blonde highlights and stands at the end of her aisle.

The Asian lady on the end gives him a disinterested look, like he’s not worthy of her attention.

Eric's solo

Behind him, on the stage he hears a piano. A violin joins it.

‘’Lilian.’’ he says, the words sounding foreign to him. She can’t hear him; she’s talking to the man with the watch. He tries again and this time the Asian lady gives him a glare. So he sucks in his breath and moves down the aisle, passing a lady with flats and a boy with vans until he’s in front of Lilian who does a double take at the sight of him. A few people are taking interest now, their eyebrows raised.

‘’I was calling you.’’ Dele says, breaking the silence. Lilian is avoiding his gaze, deliberately looking past him.

‘’Look...’’ she says quietly, obviously somewhat embarrassed. ‘’Why don’t you take a seat, and we’ll chat after.’’

‘’Why?’’ Dele says with a cutting laugh. ‘’I’m here now. It's been eighteen years, you know. My birthday was last month. Do you even remember that?’’

Lilian shakes her head, glancing anxiously at the man with the watch who’s eyeing him.

‘’Dele.’’ she says. She said my name , he thinks victoriously. And then he thinks he’s pathetic. ‘’This isn’t the right time.’’

‘’When is it, then? Another eighteen years?’’ he retorts sharply.

‘’I’m sorry, is this young man disturbing you?’’ the man with the watch interrupts. He’s clearly the boss at work.

‘’It’s - fine.’’ Lilian says. ‘’Dele go and sit down. This isn’t fair.’’

‘’Do you know what’s really not fair?’’ he insists, flaring up inside. ‘’Punishing me for what my dad did. I thought lawyers were supposed to care about justice.’’

‘’You don’t know anything.’’ she says sharply, standing up, her gaze meeting his head on. ‘’You don’t understand.’’

‘’So make me understand,’’ he insists. ‘’Don’t you fucking get it? I’ve been to dozens of care homes around this damned country, and no one’s told me anything! Imagine Kate having to deal with that shit. Imagine being scared to unpack your bags because you don’t know how long you’ll stay.’’

‘’ Dele.’’ she says sharply. There’s an audience watching them, this quarter of the theatre anyways.

‘’It's nice to know that you’ve remembered my name at least.’’

‘’I’d like the remind the audience to try to remain as quiet as possible, even during the interval.’’ a voice of authority hisses from the end of the row, and it's clearly directed towards them.

‘’Did you hear that? Be a bit respectful.’’ Lilian pounces on it, uses it as her defence.

The instruments come to a halt.

‘’Maybe I’d know a bit more about it if my mum didn't drop me at an orphanage.’’

‘’You shouldn’t know that. It’s confidential.’’

‘’You wanted to erase my past…’’ Dele shakes his head. ‘’You can’t do that.’’

‘’Sit down!’’ one of the mums says from behind, now fed up with them.

The man turns his watch. ‘’I can help accompany this man out if you need.’’ he suggests.

‘’I just want -’’ someone grabs his arm, yanks him away from the scene, hands tight round his wrist and the words get lost; I just want to know the truth.

He’s slow to react and sees Lilian breathe a sigh of relief before she settles back down and then he focuses on the white skin of the hand, he knows it's Eric pulling him away, dragging him outside of the theatre into the hallway. There are so many eyes on him as he passes by. Annoyance. Irritation. Other similar emotions etched onto the faces of strangers. Dele seems to sober up emotionally as Eric closes the door to the theatre behind him. He realises as he’s escorted out by Eric that he sort of interrupted the whole thing.

The interlude is over inside, and he can suddenly hear John’s commanding voice once again. Dele pulls his arm away from Eric, scowling, still annoyed by his conversation with Lilian.

Eric’s leaning against one of the lockers, staring at him silently. In his left hand is his black violin, the bow is tucked into the front pocket of his trousers. His hand curls over the violin protectively.

They haven’t seen each other in weeks, haven’t communicated in weeks. It's been ages. He’d forgotten what this had felt like; being the object of Eric’s attention, how addicting he used to find it.

‘’What was that for?’’ he demands.

‘’You were embarrassing yourself.’’ Eric replies.

‘’So what’s that got to do with you?’’

‘’You were ruining my solo. And you were going to ruin the play. Everyone’s been working hard all year; they didn’t need that.’’

John’s been working hard all year was all Dele could hear.

‘’Okay.’’ Dele says, passively. He has nothing else to say to him. He looks down at his feet, then glances up at Eric who’s still looking at him. His eyes running over Dele’s whole being. ‘’What are you still doing here?’’

‘’Aren’t you going to apologise?’’

‘’ For what? ’’

‘’For ruining my solo.’’ Eric says pointedly. ‘’I’ve been working on it all year. I composed it myself and I was excited for people to hear it.’’

Dele stared him dead in the eye. ‘’I can’t apologise because it wouldn’t be genuine. I needed to talk to…my mum at that moment. It just felt right - okay? But I didn’t know your solo would be at that exact point. I’m not like…’’ he trailed off as he saw the dubious expression on Eric’s face. ‘’Hold on. You think I tried to sabotage your performance?’’

‘’Well, can you blame me? I saw you outside whilst I was handing out leaflets to the parents. Just standing there. Just watching - creep like. I thought you were plotting something against me. And then I saw you just get up when I started to play.’’ Eric shook his head, bit down on his lip. ‘’I don’t know it just seemed like -’’

‘’Look, this isn’t the fucking ex gets revenge on ex-lover bullshit.’’

Eric swallows. ‘’Ex-lover.’’ he repeats astutely.

‘’Well, yeah.’’ Dele breathes out heavily. ‘’That’s what it's called, isn't it? Someone that you used to love.’’

‘’I didn’t know that.’’

‘’...Know what?’’

‘’That you used to love me, or whatever. You never said that…to me.’’

‘’I - ‘’ Cut me some slack. The whole concept of love was hard enough. But I felt for you wholly and then when I finally realised that I did; I realised I had for a while. But then. ‘’You -’’ But then you hurt me quite a bit. And so, I’m annoyed that I allowed myself to be so vulnerable. And anyways, ‘’Why are we talking about this?’’ defensive. Shoulders up. Closed body language. Dele took a step back from Eric. ‘’Go back to your world. Go be brilliant.’’ He had been so caught up in his confrontation with Lilian, he hadn’t paid full attention to Eric’s solo. But the violin had been the background music of one of the most important conversations of his life and he didn’t have to pay full attention to assume that Eric had played well.

Eric did the exact opposite, took one step closer to Dele and not back. Left hand gripped tightly around the body of his violin. Whitest shirt in the history of white shirts. A vision of a preppy boy. ‘’I would explain everything to you - if you would let me. But you’re angry right now. I get it. I’m sorry for making you angry at me. I’m sorry for making you angry at me and - and at everything else again.’’

Eric had read him like a book. Skimmed through with precision. Jesse had said the same. Miserable Dele was back. Was the smell of it oozing off of him like a bad odour?

‘’Your mum, too -’’

‘’ I don’t want to speak about it.’’ Dele tried to dismiss but Eric had found a level of determination, he straightened his back.

‘’No - we don’t have to talk about our relationship. I fucked that up. But I need to say this to you. You need to listen to what Lilian has to say.’’

Dele felt annoyance bubbling within him. He didn’t need a fucking lecture from the person who had withheld the most important piece of information from him. ‘’Listen to a liar -’’

‘’A liar, yes.’’ Eric agreed. ‘’But is your alternative better? So you embarrassed her in front of all her peers. Good for you. You’re going to go off to uni and feel so much better now, aren’t you?’’

‘’Eric, don’t…’’

‘’You aren’t. You aren’t because the anger doesn’t last forever, Del. You need to listen to her completely. You don’t need to like her or have any sort of relationship with her - your reasons for that would be entirely valid. But you don’t need to make her your enemy. You need answers from her. Think of it like…like a transactional relationship. She gives, you take. Like...like what me and John had.’’

‘’Who gave and who took?’’

‘’You know .’’ Eric says and Dele does know. ‘’You know and really most relationships in life are like that. Transactional. Then there’s the rare people you meet where in a world of seven billion humans you find your people.’’

Dele blinked at Eric and realised his eyes were watering. He hadn’t even noticed. He bit on his tongue hard enough for none of the tears to make an appearance. But Eric had made his point. Dele was man enough to admit that Eric was right on this.

The double doors opened quietly and there was Kate, frowning as she laid eyes upon Dele. She marched straight up to him. ‘’What happened to confronting her together ? After the play finished. That was a whole mess, Dele!’’

‘’I know, I know.’’ he ran a hand through his frizzy hair. He could barely look Kate in the eye. His conversation with Eric had sobered him immensely. And now he could see his behaviour for what it had been. It was hard to say that he…regretted it. But it definitely had not been the wisest decision.

‘’Oh!’’ Kate remarked as she spotted Eric. ‘’You’re here too. Thank you for handling him. You’ve always been good with him like that.’’

There was an awkward silence where Dele stared at Kate pointedly and Eric offered a wry smile. ‘’I’m going back inside now,’’ he glanced at Dele. ‘’To my world, as it were. I’ll see you around.’’

And then he slinked off and back into the theatre hall, the door shutting behind him. Dele wasn’t even sure who the latter part had been directed to. Would he see Eric around? Eric had brought up university and it was a reminder that term was literally almost over with only exams left to go. After that a quick summer and then university would begin for all of them in autumn.

‘’How angry is she?’’ Dele asked, referring to Lilian.

‘’She’s really sad. Yes, a little embarrassed too. I don’t think she’s…angry though.’’

‘’Are people talking about me?’’ he asked quietly.

‘’People just saw that Eric had escorted you out. Some were admiring Eric’s ability to handle things so directly,’’ Dele scoffed at this. ‘’There were some murmurs during the rest of the interlude but then the interlude ended, and John appeared on stage again so...no.’’

‘’We do love a long, lengthy answer around here.’’

Kate smiled. ‘’We can still go back inside, you know. Stand at the back. Better than being in this hallway which is bloody freezing.’’

‘’Yeah, alright.’’ Dele agreed, allowing himself to be led back inside.

After the performance, after the red roses have been thrown, after John Stones thanks everyone for attending, everybody departs the building. Dele and Kate wait outside by Lilian’s car - huddled together.

She exits from the building after chatting to one of the other mums. There’s a noticeable change in her expression when she spots the two of them. Though, Kate is right. It isn’t one of anger. Lilian walks up to them, flashing her car keys.

Kate stands in the middle of them glancing at them both. Dele stares at his mum. Really stares at her. Below the pristine makeup, below the mask, he could see her age shine through. Dele remembered what Eric had said and he tried not to make his mum his enemy. He presented a neutral expression. Come to think of it, as he stared, they shared the same jaw. Which made sense since they were…. biologically related. It made sense since this was the woman who had given birth to him.

‘’Dele,’’ Kate said. ‘’Meet Lilian.’’ she gestured. Dele rolled his eyes though it wasn’t out of annoyance but Kate’s corniness. ‘’Lilian, meet Dele.’’

Dele resisted snapping out any snarky remarks. Something like, surprise, I rose from the dead! And he held out a hand. Lilian took it firmly and they shook hands. Neither of them smiled but there was no coldness there. They both climb in the car after that, and Lilian drives them back to her house. It's getting late so Dele remembers to text Stacey.

I'm meeting Lilian properly. Please don't be mad. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll be back later :)

And then he sends a similar text message to Jesse.

Jesse responded back instantly.

Kyle is freaking out bro. I told him you found your family.

Kate takes him to his old room. The room with the portrait of The Naked Women. They had stood here once before. Back when everything had been different. Now, when they stand in front of the Portrait of the Naked Women, she squeezes his hand. Dele decides that Kate is a good sister. The same way Jesse was a good brother. They were both special to him. Equally.

Lilian orders some take out for them, admitting to Dele that she has never been much of a cook, not recently at least. That the only thing she really excels at is drinking.

‘’Don’t be like me.’’ She says, even as she grabs herself a bottle of wine. She pours herself a glass. ‘’Don’t be a drunkard.’’

‘’I’ve never gotten into drinking.’’ Dele told her. He carefully grabbed at her glass of wine on the kitchen counter and pulled it away from her. ‘’I need you to be sober for this. Sorry,’’ he adds at the end when it's evident she isn’t thrilled at the prospect.

He hands the glass over to Kate who pours the liquid down the sink. ‘’He’s right.’’ she adds.

‘’It’s painful.’’ Lilian mutters, watching forlornly as Kate screws the lid back on the bottle of champagne and shoves it back into the cupboard.

‘’For us all.’’ Dele says.

So, just like that, Lilian tells Dele the origins of his life as a human being. And just like that, all of the miseducation he had experienced in regard to his past, becomes righted. Tilted from its ninety-degree angle to something more horizontal…something more aligned.

Lilian details the extent of racial abuse she and Kehinde received for being together, how his dad began experimenting with drugs to take away the pain. Lilian tells him about Diana, one of her closest friends; how Diana always defended her at dinner parties, how close their children were when they were younger; Kate, Eric, and Dele. Kate and Eric were best friends and Dele would always tag along with them because he thought both of them were really cool. According to Lilian, Eric always had a soft spot for him as a child, giving him pieces of chocolate every time he came around to their house, always the Yorkie ones, or when Kate wanted to build a Lego house with just them two, he’d always insist that Dele be involved too.

Kate smiled at that, and Dele found himself smiling too. It was a cute image that Lilian had conjured there. And deeper down in him, Dele couldn’t help but believe that in a weird way; fate or God, even, had destined him to meet Ruby so that he would eventually wind up where he was now, nestled in a comfortable wooden chair in the dining room of his mum’s house, listening to her like this under ambient yellow lighting.

‘’What's sad is that I won the court case,’’ Lilian had said, twirling her blue hair band around in her hand - out of habit or nervousness. She was in her dressing gown, her hair out and down by her shoulders. ‘’They weren’t going to deport him but…he left anyways.’’ she stared down at the table, letting out a deep breath. ‘’I was devastated. I remember trying to harm myself - I’ve never loved someone so hard. Every-time I looked at you - Dele, I saw him. And it was killing me.’’

‘’That wasn’t fair.’’

‘’I know,’’ she admits, ‘’I know. I was selfish and I thought it would be easier to pretend it never happened, so I pretended you never existed.’’

‘’You killed him off.’’ Kate interrupts. ‘’Do you know how many nightmares I’ve had about this, mum? In my diary, every night ... I wondered about my brother -’’

‘’It was never supposed to last as long as it did - the lie. But time just flies by, you know.’’ She trails off, embracing the silence and Kate does too, taking it in, glancing at the bracelet wrapped around her wrist.

‘’I was also back with Kate’s father at that time and to be frank, he didn’t want you. I remember thinking about getting you back after a couple of years- taking you out of the foster system. It’s possible for parents to do that; they have to go through a two-year process of consistent visits and slowly build up the trust. But he dissuaded me from doing so. And then when Kate’s father and I were no longer together I was scared that you would no longer recognise me. I would think; why should I go get him back? Why should I take him away from a guardian that he is comfortable with and force him to be with me - essentially a stranger?’’

‘’That debate just kept going back and forth into my head until it was too late, really. I could have at least sent you letters - I realise that now. Give you something at minimum. I was never decisive enough. Then I turned to drinking and was never sober enough. Then one day I came home, and you were sitting right at the table. I recognised you instantly. You still sort of look the same.’’

‘’Got any pictures?’’ Dele asked.

Lilian nodded and brought down some printed photos. Kate gathered around to have a look too. Little Dele had snarky lips and his hair was lacking serious growth, however it was evident that in the photos he was happy. There were lots of playdates with him, Kate, and some other children. The killer photo is one of their happy little nuclear family; Kate, Lilian, Dele and Kehinde. His dad is tall, reluctantly Dele can admit that he has a rugged sort of handsomeness and stubble to match.

Weren’t sons supposed to look up to their dads as role models? What was inspirational about running away? Or maybe he had worded it wrongly in his head. Perhaps simply walking away could have power in itself. Next time, when he and Lilian had a talk, he would ask more questions about his dad’s character.

Next time , Dele thought. There could be a next time now that he and Lilian could actually have conversations with one another.

‘’Can I keep a few?’’

‘’I’ll photocopy it for you.’’ Lilian suggested. ‘’I would like to keep the originals.’’

Dele nodded, satisfied with her response.

‘’Where is he, then?’’ Dele asks. ‘’My - dad.’’

‘’He was in Nigeria, last I heard.’’ she says quietly. ‘’He called me ten years ago out of the blue from a random number, told me where he was, that he hoped I was doing well, hoped you were doing well. And then - nothing. I haven’t heard from him since.’’

Dele thinks about it for a moment. His dad whereabouts unknown, on some sandy village in Lagos maybe traumatised still or maybe he’s moved on. Maybe he’s happier now, off the drugs, doing his own thing. Maybe he thinks about him every now and then.

‘’I’m sorry you know.’’ Lilian says. ‘’For everything. For being cowardly. And I know it's not enough, it’s never going to be enough -’’

‘’But it’s something.’’ Dele finishes, oddly reflective. ‘’Thank you for telling me. I just wanted to know the truth.’’

++

Exam season had dawned. A-Levels were next week. Everyone was preoccupied, stressed, and exhausted. Clocks everywhere. Ticking. Counting down, slow, and simultaneously fast. Dele saw the sunrise and saw the sunset and in between that he studied. Hard. He wants his university place; ironically at the place he had ridiculed Kyle for wanting to go to - Queen Mary. It was his first choice now. A sociology degree, potentially.

‘’Sociology? Very cool.’’ Ruby had praised when he’d told her. ‘’I’m doing that too, you know?’’

‘’I know.’’ Dele smiled at her.

Ruby grabbed him from his locker. ‘’Sorted. You’re my study partner for sociology. There’s a past paper it would be helpful to run through.’’

Even Raheem and his cronies were too busy to engage in anything that didn’t relate to academic studies. The library which had resembled a ghost town before was now overflowing, much to Marcus’ annoyance. ‘’Nowadays I can’t find a spot here. Everyone always gets here before me.’’

‘’No worries.’’ Dele said. ‘’There’s always the field.’’

Marcus laughed. ‘’True. I guess. Are we allowed to study out there?’’

‘’The teachers bend a lot of rules during exam season.’’

Dele was right. No teacher batted an eyelid at the sight of Marcus, Ruby, Dele, Jesse, and Kyle sprawled out on the field, textbooks flung between them on the grass, eagerly shouting out key terms or testing the other spontaneously. They had their lunch out there too and when they did sometimes Ruby’s friends would join them. They knew Ruby and Dele were no longer together, but they didn’t begrudge him at all for it. And besides, Dele was still going to dance with Ruby at prom – that was his best friend, after all.

Sometimes they had group sessions. Other times they sat there together, but individually went through their problem sheets on their own.

‘’We’re all going to make it.’’ Jesse says absentmindedly. ‘’We’ll make it to where we want to go.’’

Marcus smiled warmly at him. ‘’Uh-huh. That’s called positive affirmation. But what’s the process where kids are negatively labelled?’’

‘’Smooth.’’ Jesse compliments Marcus' way of embedding a pop quiz question into the conversation. ‘’The self-fulfilling prophecy .’’ Jesse answers, drags it like the way their sociology teacher says it.

Dele gets a text from Eric.

Nervous for exam season?

Dele glances up from his phone at Marcus and Jesse who have started aggressively quizzing each other and Ruby who’s quietly studying on her own, earphones plugged in, nodding her head rhythmically.

Are we speaking now? Dele responded, sceptically. Radio silence and then suddenly his name popped up in a notification.

No, we're texting.

Wasn’t funny. Didn’t laugh . Lies. He had sniggered a little. Poor humour, but humour, nonetheless.

Then Dele added;

Not nervous. Just ready for it to be over with. U?

Tired of this school. Ready to leave too.

They were both ready to leave secondary school and move into higher education. But not together. They were both talking about separate things. Dele sighed, his fingers hovering over the keys on the screen. Finally, he settled on leaving it as it were and tossed his phone away, went back to burying his head inside of his books.

A week later the exams get underway. He wonders how the department of education has already predicted that this year’s year 13’s would get the highest percentage of A-stars seen for years. Or is this what they meant by the self-fulfilling prophecy? If they were told before the exams that they were brilliant, would they perform better? Dele isn’t sure.

But what Dele is sure about now is his identity. So, on the front of his exam paper when it asks him for his candidate number, his exam board, and his name he fills it all in and along the lines he writes in ink his name, there in plain black ballpoint pen DELE ALLI .

++

When exams are over and done with, Ruby and Kate bring them all together. And this time they don’t go to Westminster. Ruby tells Dele to meet them on the steps at Westfield. Dele is a little late, but he gets off the bus and makes the walk.

Even though deep down in the back of his mind he knew that Eric would probably be there he is still surprised. It’s mid-summer so he’s only in a plain black shirt and corduroy trousers, his arms are slim but muscular and his hair has gotten darker from being under the sun so much. Their eyes meet. Eric looks away quickly. Dele doesn’t.

‘’Slowpoke finally shows up.’’ Ruby says, running a hand through his hair affectionately. Eric stares at the action for too long.

Dele frowns and then fixes his face when he realises that Ruby is looking at him questioningly. ‘’It's the holidays. Cut me some slack.’’

Ruby smiles and so does Kate and so does Harry. Eric waves at him, brushing his golden hair back from his face.

‘’How’s the summer been treating you guys?’’ Dele asks, looking in Eric’s direction.

But Harry answers before Eric even notices. ‘’Golf. You know, the usual.’’

‘’You’ll have to teach me one day.’’ Dele remarks playfully. “I don’t know anyone that plays golf.”

‘’Until now.’’ Harry corrects.

‘’Until now, yeah.’’

They go to the movies. One of the Avengers films. Dele is enthralled during the whole thing whilst Harry talks during all of it, rambling on all of his theories about the metaverse.

Eric did end up in the seat next to him but he’s very quiet.

Eric was right about anger - it doesn’t last long at all. He doesn’t harbour that towards Eric. In fact, it would be a lie to still say he doesn’t feel something for him because he does. He isn’t sure if he’s still supposed to like Eric after being hurt.

But what about Ruby, his brain rationalises. He had hurt Ruby and yet Ruby still wanted to be in his life.

He wanted to thank Eric, for giving Dele the perspective he needed in order to have a productive conversation with his mum. He leaned forward, quieter. ‘’You okay?’ he asks.

Eric jumps slightly, then nods. ‘’All good.’’

‘’You’re…quiet.’’

‘’I’m just reflecting.’’

‘’On what?’’

‘’Things.’’

Dele left it at that so as not to become a nuisance to others watching the film, but it was a strange answer.

After the film they went to Nando’s - Harry’s treat. It was a nice and relaxed occasion, reminiscing on exam season, Boris Johnson and what lay after the summer, the future and university. But there was something growing in the pits of Dele’s stomach. A bad feeling that wasn’t welcome. After their food they parted ways, hugging each other lightly.

‘’See you later, my loves.’’ Kate said playfully. She glanced over her shoulder at Dele. ‘’Visit soon before you head off.’’

‘’Eric, come on!’’ Harry’s booming voice.

Eric had been hovering but at this he made to leave. He waved at Ruby then Dele.

Dele didn’t like this. Eric was respecting him, giving him space to get over his anger, space to forgive him. The space felt more like a chasm – like he’d drilled a hole between them. Cordial politeness with Eric Dier was not something that Dele appreciated even though he knew why Eric felt like he had to act like that.

Ruby and Dele watched as Eric joined Kate and Harry. Kate seemed to have called a taxi earlier which was waiting for them and would take them back to Westminster. They entered it and the taxi drove off, joining the traffic.

‘’Something’s up with him.’’ Dele said out loud.

Ruby made a face. ‘’Probably something to with the fact that he’s leaving for Oxfordshire tomorrow morning.’’

‘’Wait what?’’

“Yeah. Oxford has to act differently to everyone else, so they bring their students in earlier for the start of term.”

Dele blinks hurriedly, his eyebrows furrowing deeply.

‘’Don’t tell me you didn’t know that. Aren’t you guys’ friends now?’’

‘’I don’t know what we are or - what we aren’t. But shit, I wish someone would have told me.

“You really didn’t know?”

Dele is storming ahead, running towards the train station.

“DELE. HEY, DELE! ” Ruby yells as Dele wheels away from her, sprinting past other teenagers lounging around the shopping centre.

Dele can’t look back he doesn’t have the time to. He gets the train to Westminster. One last time.

It takes him a bit of time to arrive. He makes the trek from the station to Eric’s house, his shoes scuffing the pavement in his haste. His hand curls into a fist and he grabs the lion handle of the door and knocks. Hard . Maria opens the door. Her eyes widened. “ Hi.”

“Hey.” Dele answers. “Can I see Eric?”

“I’ll need to ask him.” She says quietly. She never had to ask him before. She closes the door. Dele tugs at the bottom of his shirt, wipes at his face. It’s a humid evening in August. Eric is leaving Tomorrow. Dele didn’t realise he was up against time until it hit him in the face.

Eric opens the door next, his shirt hanging open, he looks frantic, his blonde hair poking in different directions. “I thought Maria was lying.” Eric mutters.

“She wasn’t lying.” Dele shook his head.

Eric does his buttons up and then steps out of his threshold in his slippers. He folds his arms. “How are you? The movie was good, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t care about the movie.” Dele corners him. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

Eric’s eyes flicker.

“You’re leaving tomorrow, and you weren’t going to tell me?”

“Look, I’m sorry for everything that happened with us. I’m sorry for wasting your time and…” Eric stammered.

“What’s all this?” Dele asked, with a slight frown.

‘’What?’’

‘’Is this some sort of goodbye?’’ he swallowed and licked his dry lips. “Is this your goodbye to me? The way you want me to remember you; with an apology?”

“You can remember me in any way you want to. Or just - not at all.”

“Eric I was angry at you, but I never stopped caring about you. Never . Ever. ”

Eric shook his head, biting down on his lip. “I can’t do this with you right now.” He glanced back at his door. “I’m currently packing.”

“If not now then when?” Dele demanded. “You said before that you were waiting for me to let you explain yourself. Well, here it is. I’m ready.

Eric ran a hand through his hair. “Your timing sucks.”

“I’m sorry.” Dele said weakly. “Just… talk to me for a bit. I’ll help you pack if you’d like.”

Eric opened the door and Dele entered. The place was a mess, clothes strewn everywhere, lightbulbs, cable-switches, shoeboxes, a yoga mat hiding in the corner.

Eric pushed some things off of the couch. Dele sat down and Eric followed some seconds later taking a seat opposite on the recliner on the other side. He heard Maria somewhere further down in the house, bustling around. Eric placed his own hands on his lap, playing with them absentmindedly. Dele watched his hands. And then once Eric’s hands stopped fiddling about Dele looked up at him.

Eric took a breath. ‘’You want to know why I didn’t tell you when I found out?’’

Dele nods, then somehow feels compelled to play his part in this conversation so he adds. ‘’I do.’’

‘’Well,’’ Eric hesitates, and a silence stretches out. If Dele listens carefully enough, he can almost hear Eric’s thoughts whirling around. ‘’I thought that if you knew - you would leave me.’’ Eric’s voice shakes a bit.

Dele clenches his jaw, feeling his anger flare again. Eric tore them apart because of that. That minuscule reason?

‘’Because…I don’t know. When I speak about it now, it sounds silly. But at the time - you seemed to depend on me, Dele. You were always searching me out and I liked it. I liked that you always wanted me. Because I was losing my mum, but I was gaining you. I liked all the attention you gave to me. I thought that if I told you Lilian was your mum you would, I don’t know, go hang out with Kate more or something. I needed you to - I wanted you to myself.’’

Dele breathes out. He hears Eric lean back on his chair, tilts his head back on the seat and closes his eyes. Maybe it’s because Eric isn’t looking at him that he’s able to find courage to say what he does next.

‘’If you thought that, Eric, then maybe you didn’t understand the amount of love I had for you.’’

He hears Eric intake of breath. Oh, God. ‘’I liked you so much it made me jealous of other people. Mainly John, but some others too. Harry, at one point.’’

‘’ Harry?’ ’ Eric repeats.

‘’Yeah, I know. Harry.’’ Dele says, feeling ridiculous. Harry who was wrapped up with Kate. ‘’I wanted my hands on you all of the time. I loved…touching you all of the time.’’ Speaking like this makes his skin flush. Touching Eric had been dreamlike. Even when it was something as simple as their hands, when their lips touched, when Dele would jerk him off. God, when Eric had been around him, when they had had sex, Dele wanted to live with himself inside of Eric - he had never wanted anything else so badly.

‘’Nothing would have changed that. You telling me the truth and then us like figuring it out together - it would have made me wanted you more, even.’’ Dele bites the inside of his cheek. ‘’I didn’t like that John knew about it before me. It felt disrespectful. It feels like he wins everything. He gets to know about everything before I do.’’

‘’I already told you to not feel jealous about him.’’ Eric says, his voice sounding more grounded now.

‘’Yeah, but you say that and the next thing he knows I’m Lilian’s son before I do.’’

‘’Del,’’ Eric says quietly. ‘’I swear to you. He found out by accident. I never told him. I wasn’t going to. I was going to tell you. I kept backing out of it. I delayed it. But it had nothing to do with him. He walked into my room and found the pictures of you in the photo album.’’

‘’You swear?’’

‘’I swear.’’ Eric repeats. ‘’But at the same time - I get it. He’s my ex. And in sixth form he’s always going to be around me. Meanwhile you’re in East London and he’s here with me…’’

‘’It drove me crazy.’’ Dele admits.

‘’I think we’ll both be glad to not see him again. He’s going to Durham, so. He doesn’t need me anymore.’’

Dele frowns. ‘’What do you mean?’’

‘’My relationship with John - yeah, he did find me attractive. But mostly it was because I was the other popular boy. He’s tactical. It did work for a while. But mostly he was emotionally abusive towards me. He’s always been like that. I mean, that’s part of the reason why I didn’t tell you the secret. He fed me ideas about you leaving. And I bought it. He’s good at that.’’

‘’He didn’t deserve you.’ Dele replies.

There is silence and then Eric abandons his chair, sitting next to Dele instead. “If he doesn’t, then who does?” Eric stares at him.

Dele is quiet but his jaw clenched. “Maybe no one deserves anyone. Maybe that word is too possessive.”

‘’I…my mum has a photo album in my house. There are pictures of you, me, Kate. I could show you now.’’

Dele nodded and the couch dipped as Eric got up. Dele ran a hand across his face in silent agony. So now Eric had explained. Now he knew And Dele was annoyed in the end that it was Eric’s insecurity that had fucked it. Now Eric had asked him, demanding to know who deserved him. What had he wanted Dele to say? That Dele deserved him? Did Dele deserve Eric? Was Eric’s his to deserve, his to keep. Did Eric deserve him? Did they deserve each other?

Maybe John had thought he deserved Eric. Maybe that was why Eric thought that people could be deserved. But Dele was nothing like John. He didn’t deserve Eric, but he did, like Kate, think they could be good for each other. Properly good for each other. There had been instances like that before, like Eric telling him it wasn’t his fault when Meghan had tried to commit, when Dele had told Eric to let loose on his strict violin. They could push each other to let go a little more.

Dele had realised with Eric that he actually had it in him - to love hard and fiercely. He also had realised that Eric had it in him to bottle things up more than Dele ever had and that he was more insecure than he had let on. Even when Dele thought he had known Eric there was still a little bit he had been holding back.

Eric returned with the photo album a brown leather looking thing. It was relatively thick in size. So many stories hidden beneath the material, including his own. 2005 read the front.

Dele stared hard.

“Are you ready to see it?”

“Course.” Dele said breezily, although he was a little nervous. Lilian had shown him pictures but none of them had involved Eric. It was sort of - weird.

Eric flipped open the album with purpose, as if he knew exactly what he was searching for and when he found it his slender fingers paused on the spot and Dele found himself looking at three little kids in a nursery with baby faces.

“This was when I realised you were Lilian’s son.” Eric tells him quietly, his finger circling around little Dele’s cute clothes. Lilian had dressed him well back in the day.

Dele stared and stared. It was so cute. Eric was a skinny kid but even then, he carried himself well. His blonde hair matched with Kate’s and the parents had taken advantage of this, dressing them like twins sometimes.

“Doesn’t this mean then… that Diana knew?” Dele questions. “Did Diana know who I was? She must have recognised me.”

Eric is silent as he ponders it too. “Do you think so?” His legs were curled underneath him on the sofa, material soft against him.

“I look pretty much the same.” Dele says, nodding at his four-year-old self.

Eric looked down at the photo and then up at Dele. “You do, don’t you.” He says lightly. “Diana never liked anyone else I brought here the way she liked you.” He muses.

“Her fondness for me went back a long time.”

Eric was silent but Dele could see how he was gripping his own hand. Talking about Diana – they had rarely done it since she passed. They talked about everything else. But now Dele could see why they rarely did because Eric didn’t want to. His reaction was visceral; he felt uncomfortable, so Dele shifted the conversation.

“Lilian told me you were fond of me as a kid.”

Eric looked surprised. “You spoke to her?”

“Yeah. Like you encouraged me to. You were right; that I shouldn’t make her my enemy. I got a lot of information from our talk. She told me you had a soft spot for me.”

“Huh.” Eric said with a low laugh. His eyes crinkled. “Showed you favouritism?”

“A little bit.” Dele smirked.

“Some things didn’t change.”

“You’ve never shown me favouritism. At the start, I mean. Pretty sure you hated me.” Dele raised an eyebrow.

“Hated that I found you hot maybe.” Eric says honestly. “Stupid curls and too big teeth - “

Dele snorted quietly, grabbing Eric’s finger off of the photo and grabbing it instead, taking his whole hand firmly, grasping it.

Eric stared at him carefully, blue eyes round gauging Dele’s reaction. Then he squeezed back.

“What’s this?” Eric asked, almost innocently.

“This is me just – missing you, I guess.”

How else to describe it? Dele was still attracted to him emotionally and physically and Eric was right next to him, they had been sitting there for close to an hour talking and not touching not accidentally or purposely. So, Dele had crossed the line. He was forgiving Eric.

Eric seemed to hesitate before he made a quick decision to climb onto Dele’s lap and hug him around the waist. He then pulled back, as if second guessing his decision, but Dele pulled him in tightly with his hands on Eric’s hips, his hands pressing hard against the material of his shirt.

“Missed this.” Eric whispers.

Dele hums, turns his head towards Eric so he can kiss him. Dele gasps into the kiss not expecting the intensity Eric comes at him with, nipping onto his lips immediately.

“Missed you.” Dele says against his lips. “Fuck, I’m gonna miss you.” He says more desperately, frantically remembering that Eric is going to leave.

“Stupid.” He says when Eric moves back and starts leaving a trail of kisses down his neck, pulling at his skin, leaving Dele to let out a sigh. “We’re stupid. We wasted so much time - “

Eric shuts him up with a kiss, his hand coming up to cup the back of Dele’s neck, Dele opens his mouth up for Eric, allows Eric to take whatever he wants, let’s Eric push his arms behind his head on the couch as he lightly begins to rock their hips together. Dele let out a soft groan tilting his head back. He looks at the ceiling. And then Eric appears in his eyesight, kneeling over his lap, smiling down softly at him. Dele grins back lazily.

“I’m sorry.” Eric says again.

“I’m sorry too.” Dele decides. “If I was closed off about my feelings for you.”

Eric kisses him again. “I’m happy you talked to your mum.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Eric hums as Dele initiates the kiss this time, his hands circling Eric’s waist. He moves his hand downwards over his bum, squeezing happily. Eric buries his head in-between Dele’s shoulder. “I’m happy we made up.”

“You’re happy.” Dele states.

“Mhm.”

“You look nice.” Dele says taking in the older boy.

Eric grabs him by the chin and plants a hefty snog on him. “You still find me attractive?”

“Never stopped.” Dele says.

“You’re whipped cream.”

“Yeah I am. What about it?”

Eric sniggers quietly but Dele can see the preening underneath. Dele wasn’t this open before but this time - this time, he wouldn’t let Eric be that insecure about them again.

Eric reluctantly climbs off his lap. “I need to pack.”

“And here I was hoping I would distract you.”

Eric began diligently organising his stuff, Dele watched him with his arms behind his head.

“Congrats.” Dele says after a while. “You got into Oxford.”

“Yeah.” Eric says swiftly. “Letter came through the post.” He shoves in a large towel with some passive aggressiveness.

“Did you celebrate?”

“No. I sort of expected it.”

“Cocky.” Dele teases.

Eric scoffs and doesn’t elaborate.

“What’s Oxford like?”

“I’m not there yet, am I?”

“What does it look like?”

“Old buildings. Cobblestone. Creaky stairs.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

“You can go anytime. They let anyone look around.”

“Do you see what I’m asking?” Dele says pointedly.

Eric pauses. “You want to visit me. Why?”

“See how you’re getting on.”

“You could always text.”

Dele furrows his eyebrows.

“What do you gain out of visiting me?”

“Seeing you in person.”

“All my other friends promised to text me. And if you visited me…be honest, what would we do? Hang out – fuck, maybe. No teachers, no time limits. What do you think would happen?”

“Is that so wrong?”

“You would get attached to me again.” Eric shakes his head.

Dele was getting whiplash. “Yeah, I would. I want to. I thought that was what us making up meant.”

“Ruby has been telling me how you were sulking since the night at the Ritz. How moody and down you had gotten. I don’t want to be that guy for you again. I don’t want to be the one who fucks you over so hard that it affects every aspect of your life!”

“Then just don’t do that.”

“I can’t promise that, though.” Eric says, zipping one of his suitcases. “I love what I feel when I’m with you but I’m emotional baggage .”

“Eric,” Dele says angrily. “Don’t do this shit with me. I don’t want a saviour. I don’t want someone who’s perfect. I want you like this. I want your baggage.”

“I feel sad periodically. I sort of realised that I’m still mourning and I’m about to be bogged down by the toughest degree of my life. Where does that leave space for us to form a healthy relationship?”

“Stop being sensible. Okay some of your points make sense but we’ll learn from what went wrong before. We’ll improve and – “

“I would love that.” Eric says, looking at Dele from across the room. “I don’t think I’m ready for that now. I have a lot going on in my head. You’re in there too, you’re always there but - so is John and my mum; traumas.”

“ Eric ,” Dele went over and hugged him from behind, nudging his nose into Eric’s blonde tufts of hair. He heard Eric sniffle and then kissed his hair.

Dele had his own issues, lots of them. But of course, so did Eric. Eric was often tight-lipped when speaking about his mum since her passing - which he rarely did. And when he mentioned John there was a certain element of deflation to his voice. It makes Dele seethe. John had been around Eric for so long, had planted so much shit in his head and whilst Eric was not perfect, he believed he could not handle a healthy relationship, couldn’t be half of one.

Eric grabbed his hands from around his neck.

“Do you understand?”

“I do.” Dele said quietly.

“So, this is me saying goodbye to you - in the romantic sense. Do you get that?”

“Yeah.” Dele said. “What made you realise…all of that?”

“Losing you.” Eric looks up at him. “Or the thought that I had lost you because of my own shit.”

“You’ll never lose me if you’re honest and open.” Dele says, crouching down next to him over the suitcase. “That’s the Eric I want. That’s the Eric I’ll always want to be with.”

Eric didn’t answer but after closing the zip of his suitcases, he turned and pulled Dele in for a kiss.

“You got too sensible.” Dele muttered. “You gave up cigarettes. Your fix of drugs. Who are you?”

“I want to be better for myself. For mum - for you.”

Eric pulled Dele down to the floor. They undressed each other gently. Dele kissed Eric’s shoulder, memorised his pale skin, marred it with his kisses, with his teeth. Eric rolled onto his stomach and allowed Dele to take him from behind, Dele interlaced their fingers.

They fucked quietly; aware Maria was still somewhere in the house. Eric moaned, rutting against the carpet for friction and Dele reached around and jerked him off whilst rocking into him. Dele bit down on Eric’s earlobe as he came and Eric shuddered before coming himself, urging Dele to stay buried inside him even afterwards, slick with cum between them, it was messy and vulgar but the way they kissed was not. If this was a goodbye to their romantic relationship Eric had made sure Dele could never look at anybody again in the same way.

Dele cleaned them up afterwards and lay on the floor next to Eric pulling him in so they could kiss and kiss and kiss until their lips went numb. The rich rug of Eric’s living room was a good makeshift bed and Dele felt comfortable to lie here for as long as possible.

“Can I stay over?” Dele asked, lips against Eric’s mouth.

“I won’t stop you.” Eric answered. “I’ll let you do anything.”

‘’Be careful with what you say.’’ Dele warned lightly, hand trailing down to Eric’s thighs.

‘’That’s not a threat to me, Del.’’

With all of his stuff packed up (three suitcases around the living room sat precariously) Eric turned off the living room lights and then he and Dele went upstairs together.

Of course, they didn’t keep their hands off each other. The longer Eric let Dele kiss him the more and more he realised how serious Eric was about this ending. Dele didn’t like that. He didn’t want it. Even though he understood, he didn’t want that. He wanted them to work through their shit together, but Eric felt like he was draining to him. Dele thought that maybe, if he kissed him well enough, if he made Eric moan the right way, if he held him exactly the way he wanted to be held, then Eric would give in to him. Dele fucked him again in missionary encouraging Eric to leave marks all over him. Eric did and then some, he was selfish with Dele’s body, kept pulling him in with his legs. It was love making at one point. Dele told Eric that he loved him, and Eric gasped when he came.

“Stay.” Dele whispered in a post-sex haze of desperation. ‘’Screw uni. I’ll stay too. We’ll just stay here. We’ll live in this room.” In this red bedroom of his. “We can live off each other. You can be safe here with me.”

“Shhh.” Eric said into his neck.

‘’You’re going to miss prom at our school.’’ Dele told him.

‘’Then dance with someone for me. Don’t let me stop your fun.’’

“I’m serious.” Dele said again.

Eric just smiled quietly at him and rolled his eyes, then rolled onto his side of the bed. Dele snuggled him from behind. ‘’I’m serious.’’ he murmurs again.

‘’You want a fantasy.’’ Eric sighed, tangling a hand around Dele’s arm that found its way across his stomach.

“Were you high on the day of Macbeth?” Dele muttered.

Eric inhaled and Dele felt his stomach constricted. “Would you be disappointed?”

“No,” Dele said honestly. “We both have our own ways of lashing out, don’t we? I do it to others and you…do it to yourself.”

“How could you tell?” Eric asks, playing with the light hairs of Dele’s arms. Dele liked how he smelled, nudging his nose into Eric’s mop of hair.

“I can always tell with you.” Dele whispers. “I notice everything about you.”

Eric pulls Dele’s arm off of him and then turns to face Dele, his fingers tracing his nose, his eyebrows, his whole face, whole being.

Dele quietly allows it to happen, enjoying how Eric looks at him with this quiet fire in his eyes, how his fingers burn Dele’s skin delightfully and then his brain tugs at him to say what he’s secretly been thinking.

“Why weren’t you going to tell me you were leaving tomorrow?” He asks. He’s asking all of the tough questions, but he knows that Eric doesn’t begrudge him. He has the right to, and Eric owes it to him to be more straightforward.

Eric’s finger pauses on his bottom lip. He frowns. ‘’I wondered if I was going to tell you at the movies. But it's such a mood spoiler, isn’t it? I couldn’t bring it up there and so I wanted to take you aside or something but it just…never happened. And I still couldn’t tell if you wanted to even talk to me in person.’’ he pauses to take a breath. ‘’You know the last time you spent a night with me I fucked it up so bad. You screamed at me the next morning. I’ve never seen you so mad and it scared me.’’

‘’Sometimes - even now when I look at you, I see how much anger you had that day for me. And…even last time we talked in person I saw how angry you were at Lilian, and I just thought that maybe it would be easier if I just - went. No hassle, no drama, just go. That’s what I planned on doing.’’ he thumbed at Dele’s bottom lip. ‘’But you, you’re so stubborn. So of course, you found out and you came here straight away.’’

“I was that angry because I felt hurt.” Dele tells him. He remembered screaming at Eric against the wall, he remembered Eric crying, he remembered the whiplash the text on Eric’s phone had given them both. ‘’I don’t like that side of myself much. But when I feel scared it just…comes out. Especially with someone like you, who means so much’’

“I know.” Eric says. “Too much.”

“You mean enough.”

Eric flicks at his bottom lip affectionately with his thumb. ‘’All this foreplay with my mouth just come and kiss me, Dier.’’ Dele complained, smiling as Eric complied firmly.

“You’re going to heal from this.’’ Dele says, pulling back. ‘’You’re going to deal with your trauma. And then you’re going to come back to me.”

“I will.” Eric repeats his words. “I’ll come right back to you.”

“You’ll find me.”

“I’ll find you.” Eric says, giving him a kiss. And then he laughs. “You say this like we don’t have phones.”

“Don’t care about phones.” Dele murmurs bringing Eric in closer. He nudges his leg in between Eric’s cocooning them together. They tangle their legs together underneath the duvet.

Dele isn’t even sure if Eric gets that much sleep. He might be at fault for that. He doesn’t really let Eric rest, but he can’t say he regrets it. They exist In between states of sleepiness, soft conversations, and the warm heat of each other’s bodies. Dele holds Eric’s hand and Eric holds his and at some point, they fall asleep like that.

He doesn’t want morning to come but eventually it does. Eric wakes him up gently and for a moment Dele is confused. Eric brushes a hand across the pillow crease on his cheek.

“Del.” he says quietly.

“Are you real?” Dele mumbles, voice groggy with sleep.

“Yes. See .” Eric grabs his hand and places it in his blonde locks.

“Feels real.” Dele concludes, hand massaging Eric’s scalp.

Eric snorts at him quietly. “I need to leave soon.”

Dele makes a face and then glances underneath the duvet as his naked body. He realised abruptly that Eric was still naked apart from his boxers. “You’re not even dressed yet.”

“Wanted you to help me pick some clothes out.”

Dele raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You always made fun of my fashion sense.”

“I did but I sort of rate it actually.”

“Right well,” Dele sits up on the bed, the duvet pooling around his waist. Eric flung open the doors of his wardrobe. Dele squinted. “Black turtleneck. Black jeans. Black socks. Black shoes

A turtleneck might have been a strange choice but there was a consistent cold outside despite it being summer.

“Are you taking the piss?”

“You’ll look good. Trust me.”

Eric grabbed the clothes from the hangers, laid them on the bed, pulled the turtleneck over his head, tugged at his arms on the sleeves. He got stuck halfway with his neck and laughed at himself.

“Someone’s nervous.” Dele said, helping him pull the neckline over his head.

“Maybe I am.”

“This is everything you ever wanted.” Dele says seriously. If there was anything Dele knew about him, if there's anything anyone’s ever known about Eric Dier, it was this; he was the Oxford boy, the golden goose, the prodigy. And this was everything Eric had ever wanted.

Eric is quiet at that, stepping backwards and pulling the turtleneck down on himself. He catches sight of himself in the mirror and tugs it down at the hem. “I haven’t worn this in a long time.”

Deflection. Dele watches him contemplating from the bed. ‘’You don’t agree with that?’’

‘’I do.’’ Eric says, turning away from the mirror and reaching for the jeans at the edge of the bed. ‘’It has been all I’ve wanted.’’ He leaves it at that. If Dele didn’t feel so groggy, he would have pushed it a bit more. But he wants to freshen himself up a bit.

Dele rolls out of bed and goes to the bathroom to wash his face; he uses Eric’s soap and then washes his mouth out with toothpaste. When he comes back Eric is ready, messing with his hair in the mirror. And true to Dele’s prediction, he does look good. The turtleneck contrasts delightfully with his pale skin and Dele imagines all of the hickeys he left there last night underneath the material, imagining them hugging Eric’s skin as a reminder of him.

“Put anything of mine on.” Eric tells him, eyes flicking towards Dele in the mirror. Dele does so and as he’s halfway to shoving on one of Eric’s joggers, Eric turns towards him.

“Have you ever thought that something would be so great, you built it up inside your head as the resolution, as the antidote to every problem you’ve ever had and when you eventually got to it - it just wasn’t ?”

With Ruby, Dele thinks. “Yeah.” He relates.

“That’s what I keep thinking about.” Eric admits. “What if it’s shit?”

Dele makes a face, walking up to Eric, he watches Eric watch them in the mirror, wraps his arms around Eric from behind. “What do you want me to say?” He says honestly. “You know what I think of that place. I think it is shit.”

“Lie about it then.” Eric says softly. “Remind me that I need to go. I have to go. I have to do this.”

Dele sighs slowly. “Fine. You’ll go there. Get your degree. You’ll meet the future prime minister. And he’ll promise to give you a job. When you feel good about yourself, you’ll let me visit you. And I’ll pretend like I give a fuck about the ancient libraries and castle like buildings when really I’m only there to see you. ”

“Go on.” Eric encourages leaning his head back on Dele’s collarbone. Dele remembered what Eric said before; that without compliments he would just…fade.

“You’ll play your violin at the professors' dinners, and they’ll adore you and kiss your feet. You’ll charm them like the pied piper did and all the guys will follow you around, utterly hypnotised.”

“They’ll follow me all the way back to you.” Eric says, turning around. He wraps his arm around Dele’s neck. “Only want you.” Eric kisses him softly and Dele responds, guiding Eric with a hand on his chin.

Eric’s bedroom door opens, and Maria makes a sound of apology. Eric doesn’t let Dele pull away from the kiss, his arms tightening around his neck instead. Dele allows Eric to take what he needs until finally, finally Eric lets their lips separate and even then, he hugs him so tightly. “You can do this.” Dele tells him fiercely.

Maria is waiting when Eric finally looks in her direction. “Drivers here.” She speaks. She glanced at Dele and offered him a small smile. She didn’t look surprised that he had clearly stayed overnight. Maybe she knew even before them, that when Dele had shown up yesterday, he wouldn’t be leaving immediately. She pointedly opens the door widely and nods her head towards the landing and the stairs.

Eric looks over at Dele expectantly.

Off you go! Dele is supposed to encourage brightly. Off to the future. Leave me. We’ll be fine.

Maria looks at Dele too. This was it wasn’t it? Dele was really the last connection Eric had to this place. If he wanted to, now that school was over, he didn’t have to come back here. He could live anywhere he wanted to. Dele knows what he and Eric spoke about last night. They promised each other. It wasn’t about their feelings towards each other anymore; there was nothing to doubt there. It was about their feelings towards themselves. It was about stopping using each other to distract themselves in a way that verged on toxicity, a way that breeds insecurities. It was about not ignoring that they had both endured too much in life to just exist completely, absolutely, and wholly as they were now. They could have each other now but they could have each other later too and be completely, wholly, and absolutely- irrevocably together- no baggage, no secrets... It was them trying to turn themselves into adults; navigating how to function by giving themselves the most abstract concept of them all; time.

So, Dele gave Eric a smile and he told him to go.

++

Dele wears a suit to prom. It’s actually Kyle who surprises him with it; they sport matching black suits and Kyle hits his arm good naturedly. ‘’You clean up well.’’ he whistles. ‘’Cufflinks shining all bright.’’

Dele sniggers. They interchange places inside of their box room, this time Kyle does his tie for him. ‘’Weird, isn’t it?’’ Dele muses. ‘’We don’t do ties.’’

‘’I think it adds a few inches.’’ Kyle says, drawing himself to his full height. ‘’ Yeah .’’ he says, self approvingly, brushing his shoulder. ‘’I could get used to this.’’

Dele rubs at his hair, untangles a few curls. ‘’There’s a private school in Westminster; St Andrews - pretty sure you know it. They wear ties all the time. The students usually look good.’’

‘’Yeah. When I visit my parents, I see them all the time.’’ Kyle nods in agreement, then he pauses as if something just occurred to him. ‘’Do you still hang out with Eric Dier?’’

‘’I sort of dated him, actually.’’

Kyle’s hands pause on his tie. ‘’You…’’

‘’Yeah.’’ Dele swallows.

Telling Kyle was always going to be the hardest because Kyle was the archetype of everything East London boys were perceived to be; brash and slightly averse to non-heterosexuals. Maybe homophobic wasn’t the right word…just a product of the life he saw around him. How much of the banter was them conforming to a culture that had been set up in their friendship groups long before they themselves had entered it? How many others were sat in the changing rooms outwardly laughing whilst inwardly dying because that was all they had been taught to do. Dele himself had been that boy. He knew what it was like. He knew what conformity looked like and what its counterpart was – Rashford the loner within the changing rooms because he was obvious about his sexuality.

Dele had once been a Kyle until he had met Eric and had abandoned the whole act. None of them needed acting lessons because how many of them were playing roles they had already been assigned? It wasn’t like Kyle was the only one who thought it was okay to toss around homophobic jokes. It wasn’t like he was the only one - the majority of boys at school were the same. That didn’t make it okay but there was a reason.

‘’Dated.’’ Dele repeats. ‘’Kyle, I like boys. I have since forever. I liked you first. Or - I just thought you had gotten fit. Tell me how disgusted you are by that because I don't care anymore. But I wanted you to know because I'm sick of all the secrets now. I mean, think about you not telling Stacey that you found your parents - it gets tiring, doesn’t it? That's how it is with me. I’m the guy that all of the boys in P.E joke about - that’s just what it is.’’

There’s movement by their bedroom door and neither of them had noticed Stacey, Jamie and Jesse are standing there. How long they had been standing there was unknown but if their faces were anything to go by, probably a while. Jesse already knew so it's not a surprise to him. Stacey is looking at Dele like he hung the stars, and the moon and Jamie looks smug - like he knew, and it isn’t surprising at all.

Kyle is gawking at him. It’s an underwhelming reaction but it's not negative. Maybe he’s just taking it in.

‘’Well?’’ Dele prompts.

‘’I just thought that - you dated Ruby for the longest time. If you’ve known since forever, why did you date her?’’

‘’I was being a coward.’’ Dele says.

‘’No.’’ Stacey disagrees. ‘’You were conforming . People expected you to be like that - so you just went along with it. It’s not cowardly even though it was hurtful to Ruby.’’

Kyle shook his head suddenly looking very small and unimposing in his grand suit. ‘’I never meant to - it must have felt like I was attacking you when I said all of my comments. Do you know what's mad? I thought you were homophobic and so I actually began to use that language around you. Whenever any type of dude would come near you, you would run a mile.’’

‘’Not because I was homophobic…’’

‘’But because you were trying to fight it yourself.’’ Kyle finishes.

‘’All of this shit is so toxic.’’ Jamie barks. ‘’All you young kids are a joke. Sex and drugs are ace until the sex involves two penises.’’

‘’You don’t have to be so explicit.’’ Stacey scolds him lightly.

‘’Well now you all know.’’ Dele shrugged.

Stacey smiled at him. ‘’You're a special kid, Dele.’’

‘’M not a kid.’’ Dele mumbled, pulling up his collar although the compliment meant a lot to him.

‘’Ah, of course my bad.’’ Stacey grinned. ‘’My three boys have turned into real men . Prom when I was younger was always the true coming of age story. You’re all going to have a good time.’’

Jesse grinned, nudging Kyle. ‘’Who knows, Kyle might even get lucky.’’

‘’Mate,’’ Kyle blurts out like he had been stuck on the same sentence in his head. ‘’Did you just say I was your first crush?’’

Dele rolled his eyes. ‘’Sort of. For like two weeks max.’’

Kyle grinned. ‘’So what I’m hearing is you found me fit.’’

‘’For like a fortnight.’’ Dele enunciated. ‘’ Very fleetingly.’’

‘’He’s gassed because no one’s ever found him attractive before.’’ Jamie snorts.

Jesse glanced at the time on his phone. ‘’We’ve got to head off now if we want to get there before the stingy bastards finish all the food up!’’ Jesse beckoned his hand and Dele followed after him, looking back for Kyle.

Kyle made to leave however Stacey stopped him at the door. ‘’So, what’s this I’m hearing about you finding your parents?’’ she asks sharply. Kyle makes a face of exasperation.

‘’Looks like he’s being held up.’’ Dele says loudly, just to be a pisstake. ‘’See you there Kyle we’ll try and save some sausage rolls for you!’’

They didn’t take the bus. Instead, they walked all the way, bumping into each other occasionally. Dele felt light. He hadn’t even felt moody.

Eric called him every other night, his raspy voice sending Dele to sleep most nights. They had taken a break from their romantic relationship but there was still an underlying friendship between them. When Dele assesses the trajectory of their relationship, they went from half arsed enemies straight to kissing and then having sex. They had sort of skipped the friendship phase entirely so this was - different. Dele knew why Ruby liked Eric so much; he was a decent person once you had gotten through the maze he set up for anyone who wanted to get close to him. Diana had raised a good boy; Diana had raised a boy whom Dele was in love with. Dele’s love would not go away for him, but it could be boxed up like a present and contained waiting contently for when Eric would open up that box again, open them up again.

Eric had been arriving at Kate’s house, climbing out of the black taxi he had hailed, wrapped in a black bomber jacket, with black gloves to match. He flexed his finger before noticing that Dele had coincidentally arrived at the same time as he had. Eric spared him a glance; he looked rugged as usual, but his eyes lit up when he noticed Eric. Eric couldn’t deal with being looked at like that . It irked him that Dele eyes always somehow found him, in some weird way they kept bumping into each other like this - like there was some sort of invisible string.

He turned on his heel and began to stride towards Kate’s house. It was only three doorsteps down.

‘’Eric.’’ Dele called. His voice was jumpy from behind him.

Eric did not stop, although he did slow down. If Dele was so desperate to talk to him, then he would need to walk a little faster.

‘’Hey.’’ Dele said again, catching up with Eric. He matched his stride with Eric’s long ones.

‘’Hey.’’ Eric said lazily. He focused straight ahead, stared at the grey pavement in front of him. The pause in conversation from Dele was annoying to say the least- especially when he kept stealing glances at Eric.

Eric came to a dead stop and stared expectantly at the younger boy, impatiently. What do you want, he thought?

Dele stared hard before he found his voice, plucked it from the depths of his chest and presented to Eric a question that no one had ever asked him before. ‘’So why Oxford?’’

The question was almost - confusing. Alien-like. Why Oxford University? What sort of question was that? Eric had never questioned his desire to attend the best university in England; he had never needed to - everyone he had ever met had told him from a young age that this was his destiny. Cocooned safely within the walls of his private schools, he had been asked and drilled about many questions under the sun; many demanding and academically rigorous ones but he had never been asked that.

‘’Oxford is where perfection lies.’’ He answered stiffly, offended. Not that Dele would understand. He didn’t know how it worked at the state schools Dele attended; clearly, they weren’t taught the right way if they asked stupid questions like that and clearly their expectations were lower because admission statistics showed that they weren’t getting into institutions such as Oxford.

‘’But perfection doesn’t exist.’’

Eric wondered if Dele was trying to push his buttons. Rile him up a bit. There was an edge of vindication to his tone as if he were utterly convinced of his statement.

Eric knew all about perfection - he had groomed it and made it his own, he had surrounded himself with it all of his life, his own boyfriend encouraged him to create an environment so full of perfect things he could not help but aspire to emulate the nature of perfection around him. Surely, Dele did not have this same luxury.

‘’Of course, to you it doesn’t.’’ Eric said potently. ‘’Some of us can actually reach it.’’

++

Eric had reached the Promised Land. And then he realised it was all bullshit.

He had entered with a hump on his back, the slight guilt at knowing that Eriksen had helped him wangle his way through the gated entrances of the ancient twelfth century town, however he had reasoned to himself that he didn’t have much of a choice but to go. St. Andrews had already given him his big hurrah, his big send off and he didn’t want to disappoint them, his mum had died with the belief, the conviction of where her son was going to end up and it felt wrong to change that, it felt wrong to change that without her knowing.

That’s why he had so desperately asked Dele the last time they had been together to convince him to go. To remind Eric for one of his primary reasons for existing; to attend and wine and dine with the wealthy.

But Eric had thought that he was a rare exception. He thought that he was the only one who had been ushered in with the help of someone else.

However, he soon would come to discover through conversations at formals, on matriculation day and gossip that run across the grassy quadrangles in between the buildings - that the majority of students here got in exactly the same way as Eric; via human intervention and pulling strings like puppets and whispers and hearsay and lies and manipulation.

They all laughed about it in their tutorials, and it built camaraderie. Knowing that he was not the only one who had gotten bypassing merit alone didn’t bring him comfort - in fact it had made him feel worse. How could they all be comfortable with being frauds? And more potently, how could the University of Oxford wheel out statements about how their acceptance of admissions was strictly merit-based when the proof was in 80% of the students that it just wasn’t?

Eric had been seeing a therapist since he had gotten to this place; just like he had promised Dele.

He was desperate to weed out all of the past traumas he carried around with him. Each college at Oxford had one and he had quickly sorted it out.

The therapist went by his surname, Southgate. He was comfortable with all of the students, and you could often catch him on the quad, smoking a cigarette whilst reading a novel. On their first session, four months ago now, he had offered Eric one; beady eyes gleaming brightly but Eric had shook his head.

Southgate had chuckled. ‘’My bad. You look like the type to.’’

And Eric had said, ‘’I used to.’’

‘’Why did you stop?’’

Someone.

‘’Got bored of it.’’ Eric had told him.

He had, admittedly, been a little closed off in the first couple of sessions; tight lipped. Especially when talking about John and his mum, his dad too. But Southgate, owing to his professionalism, had found a way to chip down his walls.

So in between his practice sessions with the violin, his tutorials, and weekly essays, he found the time fortnightly to talk to Southgate. His office was in the far end of the building, and he always told all of his students to knock three times for no particular reason and he always told them to come empty handed - no phones, no backpacks, just bring yourself.

Eric entered that room one day, swimming in irritation with the increasing realisation that this place was a hoax .

The way it was advertised as meritocratic had been playing on his mind when Hilary Clinton had flown in last weekend to chair the Women’s History lecture and spoken about how it was essential that meritocratic institutions such as Oxford led the way for future generations and blah blah blah and the audience had all clapped their hands together in rapturous applause not noticing the irony hanging above all of their heads.

‘’So, Eric.’’ Southgate began, tapping his fag against the ash tray, the room stunk of it but Eric once a veteran in the art of smoking was still very much accustomed to the smell so it didnt bother him. ‘’How did you get on with the task I gave you? To paint the most important memory from your childhood.’’

‘’I did,’’ Eric says, waving the repro paper at him and pushing it across the desk. ‘’It’s the oldest back I can remember.’’ Eric explained.

It was him, as a nine-year-old sitting at the bottom of the stairs. It was that cruel summer when his mum had come home crying and told him that his dad was gone. ‘’Isn’t that sad?’’ Eric said sardonically. ‘’My oldest memory is death.’’

Southgate was quiet as he stared down at the painting. ‘’This is good, Eric.’’ he said. ‘’Seems like you pressed down hard with the paintbrush.’’ he observed, fingers trailing over the cracked paint.

‘’It wasn’t nice to draw.’’

‘’How does it make you feel ?’’

There was the killer question.

‘’Silly.’’ Eric said, nodding at the boy in the painting. ‘’Because; spoiler. He goes through worse after this.’’

Southgate leans back in his spinny chair, chewing on his bottom lip. ‘’You seem irritated, Eric.’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ Eric shrugged.

Southgate raised an eyebrow and Eric glanced out at the quad and saw students reading on the grass. Southgate puffed on his cigar slowly whilst Eric collected himself. Nineteen and wiser. He stared at Southgate wondering if he was on the payroll for the university; that would definitely affect his opinion, wouldn’t it? He said it anyway.

‘’This wasn’t really what I expected from this place.’’

‘’What was, Eric?’’

‘’I always wonder if there’s some sort of clause that means you need to say my name after every sentence.’’

Southgate chuckles, the lines on his face deepening, age showing briefly. ‘’Therapist 101 stuff. People like their name being said.’’

‘’It comes across patronising.’’ Eric argued.

Southgate flexed his jaw and then sat forward in his chair, hands coming together. ‘’Alright; come out with it - what’s really bothering you?’’

‘’Why are we still pretending that this is a meritocratic institution?’’

‘’Who’s we?’’ Southgate shot back immediately.

‘’Everyone.’’

‘’But everyone here knows that it isn’t.’’ Southgate said.

‘’What about all the kids in sixth form applying here next year? What about the university spouting bull to the papers, selling false dreams?’’

‘’Is this about that boy?’’ Southgate asked with a frown.

‘’We’ve talked about many boys.’’ Eric says, although he has an inkling of what Southgate is implying. His observation is almost uncanny - he had only mentioned Dele once off-handedly in relation to Diana - he did not want to use these sessions to drone on about his intimate relationship with Dele especially since they were fine. They were handling the friend thing relatively well. This was where he was supposed to dump all the things bothering him, after all.

‘’The state school one. Did he apply and not get in? Now you want to fight his battle?’’

Eric shook his head with a wry smile. ‘’He would never apply to somewhere like this.’’

‘’Because he’s not cut out for it.’’ Southgate states.

‘’Because he saw it before I did. That it’s a hoax.’’ Eric corrects. ‘’Are you on the payroll, Southgate? Can’t utter a bad word about the ethicalness of your boss?’’

Southgate sniffed quietly and brought the cigarette back to his lips watching Eric closely like Eric was about to erupt into pure hysteria. He wasn’t. But he was going to do something dramatic.

‘’So what are you going to do, Eric?’’

‘’Well, I’m part of the school magazine.’ Eric states. ‘’I do have some sort of voice.’’

John always used to speak for him, guide him towards his version of correctness, but that stopped happening a long time ago. Eric had to find his own.

The Oxford University magazine was passed around Oxfordshire as a whole, and that would be enough. Maybe he just wanted somewhere to rant; somewhere to express his own frustrations at being fooled, falling for it. They had told him that he was destined for Oxford because he was talented enough for it, and then that hadn’t even gotten him here; the sixth form head boy had. If that wasn’t enough- all of them here had found their way in like that too.

His session with Southgate ended quicker than the mandatory 60 minutes, courtesy of Eric, who closed the door firmly on his way out.

He was a writer, if he hadn’t fallen in love with music then he would have done English - he knew how to knit words together.

‘’A Letter of Complaint’’ he titled it and then he abandoned his assignments for that day to focus on this. A Letter of Complaint was not him stepping down from the university magazine or dropping out of it as a whole because it disgusted him. He was not going to leave. He argued that they didn’t all have to leave in a symbolic show of uprooting years of privilege but what they had to make clear was that this privilege still existed.

The university, he argued, should be more transparent about their admission figures and about the sharp gap between acceptance rates of students from state schools in comparison to private schools. He writes about how he got into Oxford, etches the shame onto the paper. He then concluded by encouraging an anonymous send in of stories by other students to reveal what loophole they had used to get in. And then he published it.

Dele was the first one he told, sending him all of his word vomit. Dele called him immediately. ‘’Are you fucking insane?’’ Dele had said, voice tilting happily. ‘’You’re an insane human being.’’

‘’Am I being complimented here?’’

‘’Eric, it's brilliant. I’m complimenting you!’’

Dele claimed he didn’t care too much about how he did academically, yet in the end he had still gotten into a top Russel group university. When they had been at sixth form and trying to revise together Dele claimed he never cared about English, but it was the subject he had gotten an A on. He really knew what he was talking about and so being complimented specifically by Dele on the single most important thing Eric had ever written in nineteen years made him soar.

Eric hadn’t expected it to get picked up by a journalist but one at The Guardian had taken an interest in his impassioned letter and had written about it in a small online article. The author thoroughly agreed with him.

Eric and a few others who ran the university wide magazine stood in their spot assigned at Corpus Christi, surprised at the number of anonymous letters that had come in all forms from students of how they had gotten help by their father, a teacher, Oxford staff whom they knew personally had helped them in through the door.

Mason picked them up one by one, sorting through them, reading each one out loud. Mason was one of the few people Eric could stand here. ‘’You know what this is right,’’ Mason said, looking up at Eric. ‘’It’s bad press. That Guardian article is graining lots of traction.’’

‘’I know.’’ Eric said, running a hand through his hair. ‘’I didn’t expect it to get that much attention.’’

Mason put down the letters and grabbed Eric by the shoulders' ‘’Bad press is better than no press. Especially on a topic like this.’’ he said encouragingly. ‘’You write well.’’ he hums.

They don’t kick him out because they don’t want to worsen the attention.

Eriksen is furious, especially since Eric name dropped his sixth form’s name in the article which in turn brought them under scrutiny also. Because of the bad press the school council voted to dismiss both him and his son from the school permanently. When this happens there are some girls that come forward about Christian Eriksen’s slimy behaviour during their time at sixth form, how he liked to abuse his position as head boy and kick out girls who didn’t entertain him enough.

One of those girls is Ruby Mae. And suddenly it makes sense as to why she left. Eric remembered Ruby grabbing him to the side at lunch time aged 15. Her eyes had been tinged red and she had told him with a watery smile that she was leaving because her dad wanted to move areas. A random request for a family who had lived in Westminster since their childhood. Now Eric realised there had been no choice in the matter; she’d been forced to go. And for what? Because she didn’t want to suck Eriksen off?

He’s not in London so he can’t be there with Ruby as she and other girls find the courage to speak out now that Christian Eriksen no longer had any ground to stand on. But at least Dele is with her, and he tells him that they eventually got his university offer to Imperial College London retracted.

It’s been four years so when he speaks to Ruby on the phone about it, she sounds stable, but she tells him how much seeing Eriksen always pissed her off. Eric thinks about how much John and Christian hung out together- the strange pairing that he never quite figured out but then stopped caring about because he had Dele. Two power hungry individuals attracted to each other like magnets. Eric always used to think that he and John were so alike; made for each other and so similar but he knew now that it had never been like that; not at all.

Eric thinks about Eriksen’s conversation with him from that time ago in the bathroom.

‘’Because you’re in. I pulled a few strings and now you’re in as long as you get the grades. That’s what I do with all the power I have Eric, do you see?’’

No , Eric thinks. This is what you do with all of your power. You use any position of privilege you find yourself in whether that be an institution, or a plethora of financial resources and you use it to try and find truth - to try to demand some sort of transparency.

One of the productive consequences of Eric’s article is that it reinvigorates debates about how much Oxford was doing to make itself a more inclusive institution and one that reflects the current and future generations. That's the most important thing; that people are finally talking about the elephant in the room; privilege.

++

Dele FaceTime’s him later from his university room. When Eric has time, they try to FaceTime as much as possible. Eric has to compromise a bit because Dele says that he wants to see him and not just hear his voice or receive his texts. If he doesn’t agree, Dele will get the next long train to Oxford, so Eric agrees.

Sometimes they talk about how Eric’s therapy session went, sometimes Dele tells him about how uni is going at Queen Mary- he and Kyle get up to fun shit. And sometimes they just…talk about themselves.

Dele wants to show him all the spots he discovered at his university, all these hiding places he wants to bring Eric to. Eric in return tells Dele about all the people here he dislikes and tells him when he’s feeling sad too, so Dele turns on clown mode to get a laugh out of him. Eric tells Dele everything and doesn’t hide a single thing and Dele does the same. Between them, they have planted a seed and watered it carefully and when they step back from it, they watch it grow and grow and grow.

This time they have a serious talk.

The thing about Dele is that he’s a pretty mature guy; he’s always been a bit broody - acts nonchalant sometimes but when it comes to things he cares immensely about; he’s extremely serious. And Eric has been on the receiving end of that for a while now. Eric likes it - he likes that Dele is honest and impulsive and he misses the strength of his body and the pure intensity of Dele’s gaze that you can only feel if you’re right next to him.

“Eriksen was trying to appeal his uni offer being taken away,” Dele is saying, rubbing a hand across his face, jaw hard and clenched. He’s lying on his bed, there is a poster of spiderman on his wall. “He tried to call the girls liars. But all their stories are sort of similar. He asks them out; they say no. So, he kicked them out. Just because he could. Just because no one was going to stop him.’’

‘’He gets a thrill out of it.’’ Eric muses. ‘’He has always been like that. But nobody said anything because…’’ he swallows. Eriksen had been obsessed with him too, and Eric knows that if he hadn’t been with John, he would have shown more intent. He had been a lone wolf at their school but notorious of course simply for his father - too young with too much handed to him, carried away because - ‘’Because we didn’t know how to say no.’’

Dele chews down on his lip. ‘’Who’s we? You mean yourself? Did he do something to you too?’’

‘’Nothing extreme. Just instances of him asserting itself - he always looked at me through a certain light. Like he had some sort of leash on me.’’ as he says it out loud and then purses his lips. ‘’Why do I keep attracting these types of weirdos?’’

‘’Weirdo’s get attracted to good people.’’ Dele reasoned.

Eric smiled quietly, snuggling into the pillow, and holding the phone closely to his face. Dele looked sleepy and sated, his handsome face staring quietly at Eric until Eric caved to the silence because he felt his cheeks heat.

Once upon a time Eric used to be able to fluster Dele with ease; granted he could still achieve that relatively but ever since he had let Dele into the cage that was his mind, Dele had quickly gained the upper hand and he knew it too. He smirked as Eric blurted out. ‘’So, uh - you seen Lilian recently?’’

‘’We went for lunch on the weekend.’’ Dele said. He made a face.

‘’What?’’ Eric said curiously.

‘’But Stacey was there too.’’

‘’That can’t have been a coincidence.’’

‘’They planned it. Together. They’re - bonding now.’’

Eric sniggered. ‘’That’s sweet. Bet you felt awkward.’’

‘’I did.’’ Dele admitted, squirming. ‘’I was pretty much third-wheeling.’’

‘’Should have brought Kyle along.’’

‘’Should’ve brought you. ’’

Eric went quiet at that. He knew where Dele would take the conversation now. You’re doing better now, you’ve uncovered all of your traumas, when can we do this properly again now?

‘’I want to be your boyfriend.’’

‘’I want that too.’’

‘’I want to take you on dates.’’

‘’Del,’’

‘’I want to argue with all the Oxford dons at your college.’’

Eric laughed. ‘’Del,’’ he grinned into his pillow. ‘’Don’t make it harder on me.’’

‘’That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.’’ Dele said, amused by Eric’s expression.

‘’You realise that once I see you again properly; it's a one-way trip.’’ Eric says seriously. ‘’There’s no stopping after that - you won’t be able to get off.’’

‘’Good.’’ Dele grunted. ‘’Don’t want to anyway.’’

Eric stared at him carefully and Dele looked back, instantly matching his intensity. Eric sized him up. It had been four months like this. It wasn’t like Eric didn’t actively want to be in a proper relationship with Dele. It’s just that he didn’t want his insecurities consume him like it did before; to a point where it fucks with his decisions and leads him to hurt people who he cared about. The truth was that Eric was definitely in a better place, better than ever before. He hadn’t remembered a time where he had felt this in control of himself, this satisfied with the way he was without this inner insatiable demon inside of him demanding more and more.

‘’Come meet me then.’’ Eric dares.

Dele’s brown eyes flash. ‘’For real?’’

‘’Dead serious.’’ Eric intones. ‘’There’s a Costa on Cornmarket Street.’’ he shrugs, pulling the duvet closer around himself. ‘’Come there tomorrow evening. I’ll book your train ticket. We can say hello in person.’’

‘’Hello and then some.’’

Eric hates that his stomach flutters, but he rolls his eyes and instead nods. ‘’Whatever you want. I’ll show you around the place.’’

‘’Sure about that?’’ Dele raised an eyebrow. ‘’You’re a wanted man, Eric. You single-handedly brought the place to its knees.’’

‘’That’s why you’re there.’’

‘’Some bodyguard, yeah?’’

‘’Best bodyguard ever.’’

‘’Say you love me.’’ Dele demands.

‘’I know I love you.’’ Eric holds out a pinkie. ‘’I love you.’’

Dele fumbles with his sheets so he can flash his own pinkie. They jokingly mimic entwining their pinkies through their screens.

‘’Are visitors allowed into students’ rooms?’’

‘’Even if they aren’t. I don’t care. You’re coming back to my room.’’

‘’You can show me the fancy paintings you probably bought for it.’’

‘’You don’t care about fancy paintings. You hate high culture.’’ Eric snorted.

‘’I’ll indulge it just this once.’’ he squinted to see what was behind Eric. ‘’Isn’t that by Van Goth?’’ he said, referring to the Renaissance oil painting behind him.

‘’No.’’ Eric answered. ‘’You’re a little rusty. I’ll need to give you some lessons on that.’’

Dele made a suggestive face and Eric clocked he had somehow made an innuendo. Somebody barged into Dele’s room and by the loudness of his voice Eric could tell that it was Kyle.

‘’Hope I wasn’t interrupting.’’ Kyle said but even so he bounced on the bed next to Dele and stuck his face on the screen giving Eric a salute. ‘’Your highness.’’

‘’It’s getting old.’’ Dele tells Kyle, pushing him off lightly. Kyle liked to joke that Eric was as posh as the queen every now and then. Dele looked at Eric again. ‘’I’m babysitting this thickhead so -’’ Kyle ducks him on the head and the Facetime ends abruptly.

Eric smiles sleepily at the blank screen, instantly going to Trainline to book Dele some next day tickets, then he falls asleep with the phone right next to his pillow.

++

Dele got there before him. Eric saw him before he even entered Costa Coffee. He clocked him from the high street, sat on one of the tables near the front, looking down at his phone - he was texting Eric because Eric’s own phone in his pocket kept going off. But Eric ignored it and took a minute to admire the man who had taken over his life - reluctantly and then all at once. Dele made him crazy inside. And since it had been four months since Eric had had Dele within a touching distance- it hit him just like that.

Even from here, to a stranger's eye it would be obvious that Dele was waiting for someone; the energy just thrummed off of his black jacket, the grey cap on his head hiding his curls but displaying the line of his jaw.

A man rode past on his bike and Eric’s sight of him was blocked momentarily. Once the rider had passed and Eric caught sight of Dele again, Dele had found him; brown eyes finding Eric’s blue ones. They were always going to be right back at this, it was only a matter of time. Dele would always be a part of Eric and Eric was part of Dele indefinitely.

Eric saw Dele and nothing else mattered. He strode into Costa, avoiding one of the waitresses and Dele met him halfway, crushing him in a soul searing hug. His long arms encompassed Eric’s waist and Eric’s hands found Dele’s face, searching for his lips so they could be closer.

It was an impatient kiss that Eric eventually found the patience to slow Dele down, to still the pace of their kiss, silently telling Dele that he could take his time with it because there was no need to rush. Because they could just stay here like this. Eric kissed Dele’s nose and his cheek, pushing him backwards towards his seat so they could get out of other people’s way, hopped on the stool right next to his so they could stay connected.

When they finally caught their breaths, Dele stayed with his nose nudged against Eric’s, his eyes closed. ‘’Love you. So happy to see you. You look healthy, good- happy. Content? The weather here is treating you well…’’

Eric laughed at Dele’s ramblings and allowed Dele to get it out of his system before kissing him again, firmly. ‘’Love you.’’ Eric whispered.

‘’I love you.’’ Dele said, opening his eyes. Eric inwardly soared. Dele kept his gaze sharply. ‘’I’m crazy about you. I missed you crazily. I wear caps now Eric; you’re ruining me.’’

‘’Sorry.’’ Eric said sweetly, not sorry at all, of course. His eyes flitted up to Dele’s head. ‘’Besides; I like the cap. You look like you’re trying to warn other guys off because your man was coming to meet you.’’

‘’That’s oddly specific.’’ Dele said, hand on Eric’s thigh, he rubbed at the material covering his leg warmly, like he was trying to ground himself. Eric leaned into him, amidst the buzz of the cafe.

Evening was good because the crowd was less as closing time was soon, it was good because it was night outside and the streetlights were on, a fluorescent yellow. It was good because in the evening like this, neither of them had any lectures or tutorials to tend to and the evening could move at its leisurely place, and they would allow it to take them completely and wholly so they could enjoy each other’s company in a way they hadn’t done in a long time.

Dele slung an arm around Eric and then called the waitress over; Dele got a hot chocolate for himself, and Eric opted for the same. The drink wasn’t important anyway.

‘’How many times have you been here?’’ Dele asked, observantly. He had noticed the way the waitress had smiled especially warmly at Eric.

‘’More than ten times, probably. Essays do that to you.’’

‘’On your own?’’

Eric nodded. ‘’Yeah. There are people I could go with…But I like my own company too. Actually,’’ Eric glanced down at where they were sitting. ‘’Funnily enough, this is usually my spot. I sit here all the time with my laptop.’’

Dele raised an eyebrow at that and then grabbed a pen that was nearby on the table.

‘’What are you doing?’’ Eric asked fondly.

‘’Watch.’’ Dele told him, picking it up and flicking off the lid. He began to write on the wooden table. Ink on wood was not the clearest surface to read on but even so Eric could make out what Dele was scrawling down.

Eric Dier. Dele Alli.

‘’Might get in trouble for that.’’ Eric whispered, grinning.

‘’You’ll bail me out.’’

Eric couldn’t argue with that.

Their drinks arrived and they engaged in a small show of cheers before gulping them down. As they drank their drinks, their names on the table began to fade. But that was okay because the real Eric Dier and the real Dele Alli would never. Especially not when they had reached the first mountains of their young adulthood lives together, like this and were wiser and closer for all that they had gone through. By the time they left Costa Coffee, hand in hand, only an E and D remained.

Eric walked ahead of Dele along the cobblestoned floors of Oxford town, glancing back occasionally watching Dele drag his feet. For someone who claimed he was not interested in ancient and outdated architecture he sure was taking it all in. Dele played with his cap, one of his hands inside of his dark jeans. Eric waited, looking back at Dele like he was part of a dream.

Some days he regretted initiating that they wait. Time always felt quick as teenagers, like the end of time was just around the corner. And it would have been so easy to just go back into it. But waiting was good, waiting meant this.

Eric waited for him, a teasing smile on his face as Dele dragged his attention away from the Sheldonian building. Dele caught up with him and they entwined hands once again. They both had gloves on because of the weather but still Eric could feel his warmth.

‘’Happy belated nineteenth.’’ Dele breathes out. He had said it before over the phone but of course, this was different, this was better.

‘’Thank you.’’ Eric said warmly.

They arrive at Eric’s college; Hertford, the porter- a chubby middle-aged man with a ruddy face lets them in. He’s usually friendly enough with Eric and this time when Eric appears with the mysterious boy behind him, he raises an eyebrow but he’s still polite and cordial. Dele, naturally wrapped up in the good mood that he and Eric were creating for themselves, gives the porter a friendly wave.

Eric sees some of his course mates as he walks Dele up the winding staircases to his room. Of course, they all know who he is thanks to his notorious article and seeing Eric heading to his room with a new boy wrapped with his limbs all around him, not an inch of space between them and it was obvious what was going on.

Good, Eric thought. He wanted it to be obvious. Seemed like so did Dele. Eric was proud of him for feeling this comfortable with everything.

Eric’s room was pretty spacious, and the radiator was burning with heat, nice during the cold seasons but it meant that the room was always boiling. Eric opened his blinds; his room overlooked the quad - there was a formal going on tonight and some students had already started turning up wearing their sub-fusc; some were from other colleges, but they all blended in - they all looked the same.

‘’You invited me on the night of a formal.’’ Dele states joining him at the window.

‘’Formals get boring after the third time.’’ Eric said. ‘’ You’re much more interesting.’’ ‘’Think of all the fun things we could do.’’

Dele smirked, leaving him at the windowsill and falling back onto the bed. ‘’I was thinking…it would be interesting if you topped, wouldn’t it?’’

Eric spluttered. ‘’What?’’ his cheeks flushed sharply.

‘’Yeah,’’ he continued. ‘’I don’t think it's fair that you don’t know what that feels like…don’t know how good it feels to be inside someone like that. I want you to feel what I feel when I fucked you.’’

Eric had never…thought about that. The first person he had had sex with - John Stones - had just naturally topped him and Eric had found that he enjoyed it and so this naturally continued into him bottoming with Dele. He had no problems with it. Dele was good and strong every single time.

‘’So, you really want it up the arse?’’ Eric questions.

‘’You sound like Kyle.’’ Dele snorts, laughing into his shoulder. ‘’But yeah…I guess I do. I want you. Up my arse.’’

‘’You’ve never done that before.’’

‘’Yeah.’’ Dele shrugged. ‘’First time for everything.’’ He stood up, shrugging off of his jacket, tossing it on the mattress. Underneath his jacket, he wore a skin-tight white shirt that hugged his chest and his arms. He must have been going gym frequently in the four months they hadn’t physically met.

He walked up to Eric and dropped to his knees in front of him, staring up at him through lidded eyes. ‘’You keep talking about power Eric, but have you ever felt this kind? I’ll let you have it.’’

Dele looked soft underneath him and even though he was sort of submitting to Eric there was a strong look in his eyes. And to Eric it was an addictive look. Dele was right. He would let Eric have it. After all, he was right here.

What Eric loved about their relationship was the equal push and pull they gave in everything – they were equally yoked. And this – this was just another aspect of that. Dele had fucked him. Now he wanted Eric to give some of it back. An exchange of power – a safe handing over of the baton.

So, he placed both of his hands on Dele’s hair, massaging his curls, slowly feeling it out. Wondering what it would be like when Dele opened up his mouth for him, wondered what Dele gagging would feel like on him. Dele; underneath him, above him.

The look Eric gave Dele was one of confirmation and so Dele carefully, unwaveringly unbuttoned his trousers and took Eric down his throat with a mischievous glint in his eye.

It was the irony of them both, room firmly locked fucking each other at Oxford University whilst the violins played from the grand dining hall; violins that Eric should have been playing when instead he was in here trapped willingly with Dele and the bow was Eric and the violin was Dele and they played each other until the early morning of the next day.