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“I’m not going to tell you how I’d fix it. Where’s the fun in that? But you might want to take a look around here first.”

A.J. tried to make his mind behave as he leaned in for the advice that he’d come for in the first place, but his thoughts weren’t cooperating.

No bundle of joy, or grey in Bren’s hair, but a room to call their own as long as they paid their rent on time. The career his heart was calling for would probably mean he’d need to get a job in the shops while he tried to find his footing.

But what might Bren be up to in this maybe-not-so-far-off future?

His boyfriend was good at so many different things, no matter what he said to the contrary. If an A.J. Walker original ever made it to Broadway, or became a household name for jingles about bran flakes, then Bren might not need to work at all.

Bren had given him so many things since the moment he’d first said hello, which in and of itself was one of the most precious gifts A.J. had ever received. He knew he’d be spending the rest of his life trying to pay everything back and never quite be able to settle the balance between them.

But a life where Bren could do whatever it was that brought a smile to his face? Well, that seemed like a pretty good way of evening things out.

Just a bit.

41

“Alright, Brenny, rise and shine!”

Bren’s eyes seared out of his skull as they opened to blinding afternoon sunlight. After the smouldering stopped, Brick’s massive outline came into blurry focus, framed by the bright window where he’d pulled the curtains wide.

“The rain’s supposed to start in an hour, so get up now if you don’t wanna get soaked.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” Bren asked, flipping over to bury his face in his pillow.

His bed rocked as Brick flung one of his size-twelves on the edge and pumped his leg.

“Everyone’s coming to mine to watch the match.”

He’d half considered agreeing to come along when Rory had mentioned it to him last night. But then he’d woken up long enough to see Arlo’s adorably drunken message and the black hole in his gut had dragged him back to bed.

“Not if everyone means me,” Bren said, shoving Brick’s foot off the bed with both hands.

He really needed to start locking the door.

“Come on, Bren, it’s the Harps,” Brick said, tugging at the blanket so Bren had to grab on to stay covered. “You can mitch off school but not hurling.”

“I was up late talkin’ to A.J. Just text me the score later.”

Brick grunted and slammed his foot out of Bren’s reach this time.

“He was out bowling with Nat.”

Bren blinked up at him.

“We’re mates too, lad.”

The part of him that wasn’t a hair away from punching Brick in the nuts was happy that he and Arlo had become mates for real in the end, but only just.

“Leave me alone.”

Bricks arms wrapped around him like he was getting ready to deadlift him and Bren sat bolt upright, teeth gritted.

“Seriously, Brian. Piss off!”

Brick didn’t stop, if anything his face grew more determined as he struggled to keep his arms locked around Bren’s side.

“And seriously, Brendan, quit acting the maggot!”