Somebody to Love
Nicholas feels alone.
It was almost midnight when Nicholas wandered into his cottage.
Weaving only slightly.
He may have been a little drunk. Okay, more than a little, but his brain activity was off the chart. It was one of those situations where his mind was going ten times the speed of his stumbling feet.
They’d all been at the pub after shift, everyone coming together to shed the job-thoughts of the day and then drifting off after a few pints. Tonight, though, he’d been one of the few to stay late.
This was uncharacteristic of Nicholas, of course. He was usually the first one out the door, restraining himself from the drink and being mindful of household duties such as paperwork laundry, morning jogs and whatnot, but this night he’d only felt like staying.
He’d felt like talking.
Talking to Danny.
This was nothing odd, he’d told himself, to stay and have a couple of extra pints and talk to a friend about…whatever they were talking about. This was perfectly acceptable. Of course it was. No big deal.
But it was one thing to get wrapped up in a conversation. Nicholas had been doing something else entirely. Even if nobody at the pub had noticed, he knew what he’d been doing and he felt shameful.
What Nicholas had really been paying attention to (four or five pints in, at least) was Danny’s face.
Those sparkly brown eyes that were so deep, so innocent, so clean - not full of all the shite that pervaded everyone and everything back in London. Danny’s eyes were so genuinely sweet. So clear. So honest. So purely full of admiration for him. He - Nicholas - who so many others had zero admiration or even respect for. So much so that they’d sent him away.
But if they hadn’t, he never would have met Danny…
Sweet little Danny who didn’t have a clue how Nicholas felt or…(gulp)…how he was wired.
Nicholas’s gears were simply arranged differently. His clockwork ran backwards. Or sideways. Whatever. Strange. Different. Queer. Bender. Faggot. None of these were new words to him. Once, they’d even earned him a split lip and a broken tooth back in London, but they were words he’d been running from and trying to hide for years upon years.
If only…
Ssssh! Shut up! hissed Nicholas’s internal monologue. Stop thinking like this. You can’t do this. You’re not allowed to. Just enjoy the fact that you spent tonight with him at the pub and remember what you have to do tomorrow. Let it go. He’s an innocent boy. He wouldn’t…Just let it go.
Let it go, Nick.
Put some music on.
Listening to himself, bent as the logic was, Nicholas wove his way to his stereo and fumbled through his meager CD collection. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for and he popped the disc into the player, keeping the volume low so as not to disturb the neighbors.
Neighbor.
Neighbor who lived a fair distance from his cottage.
Press “Play”.
“Caaan anybodddyy…find meeeee…somebody toooo…Love…”
“Each morning I get up I die a little. Can’t barely stand on my feet.”
“Take a look at yourself in the mirror and I cry… Lord what are you doing to me…”
Nicholas wove his way back to the kitchen, throwing a mental “fuck you” to his “no caffeine after midday” rule, figuring that a good cup of tea might help make his brain shut the hell up. God, if anybody ever even saw his CD collection, they’d know for certain…
“But I just can’t get no relief…Lord…”
One cup of tea in hand later, Nicholas sat alone at his kitchen table trying - with no success - to push away thoughts of how much he wanted to kiss Danny and run his fingers through that thick black hair of his.
This is not helping. It’s just a crush .It means nothing. Let it go because you know it’ll never work…
A knock at the door threw any and all thoughts out the window. Who the hell would be knocking at this hour? Nicholas hauled himself up and, still holding onto his untouched mug of tea, went to answer the door.
Danny looked at him, blinking, though unable to blink away the shine in his eyes placed there by the alcohol consumed earlier.
“Ey, Nich’las.”
Nicholas loved the way he said his name.
“Erm…Hello, Danny.”
“But everybody wants to put me down. They say I’m going crazy…”
The stereo was still on. Oh, fuck.
“Is that Queen?”
“Can anybody find meeeee…somebody to love?”
It was almost midnight when Nicholas wandered into his cottage.
Weaving only slightly.
He may have been a little drunk. Okay, more than a little, but his brain activity was off the chart. It was one of those situations where his mind was going ten times the speed of his stumbling feet.
They’d all been at the pub after shift, everyone coming together to shed the job-thoughts of the day and then drifting off after a few pints. Tonight, though, he’d been one of the few to stay late.
This was uncharacteristic of Nicholas, of course. He was usually the first one out the door, restraining himself from the drink and being mindful of household duties such as paperwork laundry, morning jogs and whatnot, but this night he’d only felt like staying.
He’d felt like talking.
Talking to Danny.
This was nothing odd, he’d told himself, to stay and have a couple of extra pints and talk to a friend about…whatever they were talking about. This was perfectly acceptable. Of course it was. No big deal.
But it was one thing to get wrapped up in a conversation. Nicholas had been doing something else entirely. Even if nobody at the pub had noticed, he knew what he’d been doing and he felt shameful.
What Nicholas had really been paying attention to (four or five pints in, at least) was Danny’s face.
Those sparkly brown eyes that were so deep, so innocent, so clean - not full of all the shite that pervaded everyone and everything back in London. Danny’s eyes were so genuinely sweet. So clear. So honest. So purely full of admiration for him. He - Nicholas - who so many others had zero admiration or even respect for. So much so that they’d sent him away.
But if they hadn’t, he never would have met Danny…
Sweet little Danny who didn’t have a clue how Nicholas felt or…(gulp)…how he was wired.
Nicholas’s gears were simply arranged differently. His clockwork ran backwards. Or sideways. Whatever. Strange. Different. Queer. Bender. Faggot. None of these were new words to him. Once, they’d even earned him a split lip and a broken tooth back in London, but they were words he’d been running from and trying to hide for years upon years.
If only…
Ssssh! Shut up! hissed Nicholas’s internal monologue. Stop thinking like this. You can’t do this. You’re not allowed to. Just enjoy the fact that you spent tonight with him at the pub and remember what you have to do tomorrow. Let it go. He’s an innocent boy. He wouldn’t…Just let it go.
Let it go, Nick.
Put some music on.
Listening to himself, bent as the logic was, Nicholas wove his way to his stereo and fumbled through his meager CD collection. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for and he popped the disc into the player, keeping the volume low so as not to disturb the neighbors.
Neighbor.
Neighbor who lived a fair distance from his cottage.
Press “Play”.
“Caaan anybodddyy…find meeeee…somebody toooo…Love…”
“Each morning I get up I die a little. Can’t barely stand on my feet.”
“Take a look at yourself in the mirror and I cry… Lord what are you doing to me…”
Nicholas wove his way back to the kitchen, throwing a mental “fuck you” to his “no caffeine after midday” rule, figuring that a good cup of tea might help make his brain shut the hell up. God, if anybody ever even saw his CD collection, they’d know for certain…
“But I just can’t get no relief…Lord…”
One cup of tea in hand later, Nicholas sat alone at his kitchen table trying - with no success - to push away thoughts of how much he wanted to kiss Danny and run his fingers through that thick black hair of his.
This is not helping. It’s just a crush .It means nothing. Let it go because you know it’ll never work…
A knock at the door threw any and all thoughts out the window. Who the hell would be knocking at this hour? Nicholas hauled himself up and, still holding onto his untouched mug of tea, went to answer the door.
Danny looked at him, blinking, though unable to blink away the shine in his eyes placed there by the alcohol consumed earlier.
“Ey, Nich’las.”
Nicholas loved the way he said his name.
“Erm…Hello, Danny.”
“But everybody wants to put me down. They say I’m going crazy…”
The stereo was still on. Oh, fuck.
“Is that Queen?”
“Can anybody find meeeee…somebody to love?”