Much Smaller Things, page 26
With Alfie’s help, Tom finally managed to get on top of the coursework he’d been neglecting and was well on his way to passing his A-Levels. His face was healing nicely, too. Only a faint red imprint remained below his right eye.
Alfie was saddened to realise it might scar, but Tom didn’t seem to mind. He said it showed he had survived. Showed what Alfie survived. And also showed what Tom would do, again and again, for him.
Every Friday evening, the Rowlands set out for their family walk, and now, Alfie went with them.
Alfie became more comfortable than he could ever remember being. Debbie insisted on taking him out shopping to buy new clothes, despite how much he protested. He didn’t let her spend too much, but she seemed to enjoy looking after him. It was strange, but it was nice.
Debbie had also been thrilled at the revelation that Alfie could play the violin. Once Tom had returned the instrument to Alfie, Debbie encouraged him to play as much as he liked, especially after hearing him play so well.
Alfie was still self-conscious of playing in front of people he knew—playing for strangers was one thing, but this newfound family? Well, that was a bit nerve-wracking.
When Alfie had learned Tom had kept the violin in his bedroom the whole time they’d been apart, that sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, he’d take it out and just hold it for a while, Alfie had to take some deep breaths so as not to burst into tears. Apparently, twice Tom had woken up with string marks pressed into his cheeks.
Tom had asked tentatively whether it would be okay, would it be safe, to add Alfie’s initials to his Instagram bio, now he knew them.
After Alfie had teased him mercilessly—while secretly being thrilled and a little bit flustered—he’d agreed he could.
This had led to Alfie setting up his own account for the first time and adding a “TR” to match. However, the first selfie they took together got all the way to being posted before Alfie realised that might be going a bit too far. He knew Liam used Instagram and didn’t exactly feel comfortable with him lurking about his account. Tom assured him it was okay, and they decided to only post the selfie on Tom’s account. This had been a bit scary for Tom, but he had shaken his head, determined, and posted it anyway.
As suspected, the comments were a mixed bag. But Blair was supportive, as well as several other people Tom knew from school, including Ed from the football team, Jess Pope, her friend Emmett, plus a whole host of others Tom had never even considered.
And every night, after dark, Tom would sneak down the hall, into the spare room, to cuddle and kiss Alfie to sleep.
The weather became kinder at the beginning of March, which was why Alfie and Tom found themselves lounging on the grass in the garden, pyjamas on, cups of tea in hand, looking up at a clear sky full of stars.
Tom’s side was warm enough to combat the remaining chill. Alfie discarded his empty mug and snuggled closer.
With a sigh, Tom kissed the top of his head. “These past three weeks have been perfect.”
Alfie hummed in agreement.
Living here had been surreal. It wasn’t only strange to have a house, a bed, food, and all the necessities at arm’s reach, but perhaps the weirdest part was that everyone in the house seemed to like him. Even Olivia seemed to grudgingly tolerate him.
He hadn’t told the Rowlands about his inheritance, but Debbie had been helping him think about the future. If he could find a job, literally any job, then he could start saving for his own place, or at least pay the Rowlands rent so he didn’t feel like such a leech.
Though he hadn’t seen them, per Liam’s orders, he had kept in contact with Fin and Dahlia via text. Neither of them had heard from Liam either, and so Alfie thought maybe he really had finally broken him. Maybe he really had moved back to Grimsby to be with his parents. Alfie didn’t know. All he knew was that Liam was out of his life and he wanted him to stay out. Forever. Even if that meant paying him off later. Whatever it took.
Tom abandoned his own cup of tea and rolled Alfie on top of him into a promising make-out session. Tom’s skin was cool in the evening air and, as they rolled over on the grass, giggling between kisses, nothing had felt so perfect.
They had been good boys thus far and followed the three rules, but that last one… it had come close a number of times. For a while it had been nice to know sex was forbidden, but now, maybe for the first time, Alfie actually craved it. Craved what he and Tom had found on that final day in December, that closeness, that togetherness.
“So,” said Alfie. “Big match tomorrow. Excited?”
“Yep.” Tomorrow was to be the first football match since Alfie had come back into Tom’s life. “Mr Cooper seems confident Hatton Academy doesn’t stand a chance, and I’ve been playing loads better so, I mean, hopefully. We could still lose, but I’m trying to stay confident. I’m actually more excited than nervous for a change, though.”
“That’s good. I’m really happy for you. And I’m excited too—even though I didn’t give a shit about football before you.”
Tom laughed, but a sudden, loud exclamation from the back door cut him off—“This is such bullshit!”Neither of them needed to turn around to know it was Olivia.
But then Sean’s voice cut through the evening, too. “Well, get used to it, Liv. According to your mum, he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”
Alfie’s stomach dropped.
Tom stiffened. “Hey. Want to go back inside? It’s getting cold.”
Alfie didn’t move.
“It isn’t fair,” said Olivia. “Don’t I get a say in who lives in our house?”
“I’m not thrilled about it, either,” said Sean. “But do you really think your mum and dad would take away Tom’s precious new toy?”
Olivia scoffed. “Yeah, because Tom’s clearly more important than I am.”
“You know he gets special treatment,” said Sean. “Like, this isn’t new. Tom always gets away with everything because he’s the baby.”
Alfie sat up and brought his knees to his chest to hug them. He understood Olivia wasn’t his biggest fan—Alfie didn’t like her much either—but he’d had no idea he’d been bugging her boyfriend. They had barely interacted.
Maybe Alfie had grown too comfortable in the house. Despite Olivia’s attitude and Frederick’s continued suspicion, Alfie felt at home. More than anywhere. But this wasn’t Alfie’s home. It was Olivia’s. And Tom’s and Frederick’s and Debbie’s. Not Alfie’s.
He didn’t belong here.
“Alfie, hey,” Tom whispered, smoothing a hand over his back. “Don’t listen to them. Don’t let them think you don’t belong here, because you do, okay? Olivia’s just a dick.”
The dread had already settled. The spiral slowed into more of a faint buzz, but the guilt had hit him hard. Once Olivia and Sean had gone, Alfie picked himself up and headed toward the house. Tom followed and before they could reach the door, he said, “Alfie, hold on.”
“I’m fine,” said Alfie. “I don’t care what they think.” He didn’t turn around to let Tom see his face, for he knew his lie would be betrayed there. “I’m just gonna… I’ll see you later, okay?”
34
Tom
The slump of Alfie’s shoulders as he left the kitchen made Tom’s fury rise exponentially. He listened to his footsteps recede up the stairs and sighed. He headed slowly up after him and, knowing Alfie just wanted some space, knocked on his sister’s bedroom door.
A grunt of recognition from inside and Tom entered.
“What the fuck do you want?” said Olivia. “We’re busy.”
“Are you?”
Sean was lounging on the bed, a magazine open, and by the looks of it, Olivia had been mindlessly spinning in her desk chair. Tom looked from one to the other and realised, with the help of the two guilty expressions paired with the supposed casual positions, that his sister and her boyfriend had been plotting something.
“You two meant for Alfie to overhear you, didn’t you?”
Sean lowered his magazine with a huff and an eye roll. Tom wanted to rip the stupid magazine from his stupid hands and hit his stupid sister with it. “Why would you do something like that? That’s fucking cruel—you really hurt his feelings!”
Olivia stopped her spinning and sat up straighter. “Why the fuck would we want some random boy from the streets living with us?”
“What does it matter?” Tom demanded. “He’s never done anything to you. He’s been nothing but polite and considerate this whole time.”
“Just because you’re smitten with him doesn’t mean we all are.”
“Olivia,” said Tom. “Seriously? Sean lived here for like three months last summer.”
“But that was different,” said Olivia. “We all knew Sean.”
“We knew Alfie too! It’s not like you’d never seen or heard of him before he started living here. We’ve known him since Christmas.”
“But do you know him? Like, really?”
Olivia’s brown eyes intensified, entirely serious, and Tom recoiled. Did she somehow know Alfie’s history? Did she somehow know something he didn’t?
He rolled his eyes. “Yes,” said Tom firmly. “I know him. I trust him. I—”
“You want to fuck him, we understand that. But just because you want to keep him around like some kind of pet doesn’t mean we should have to pick up his shit after him, do you know what I’m saying?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Ears buzzing, Tom strode to his sister, and before he knew what he was doing, he shoved the desk chair with all his might. Unprepared, Olivia went sprawling onto the carpet with a string of loud swear words.
“What the fuck?” She scrambled to her feet. “What was that for?”
“What do you think?” Tom took a deep breath and tried to regain some composure. He wasn’t exactly proud of himself for shoving his sister like that, but… “Look,” he said. “Alfie’s going to be in my life now, whether he lives here or not, so you’re just going to have to get used to him.” He turned to the door. “Oh yeah, and if you’re gonna come to the match tomorrow, don’t fucking talk to Alfie if you’re only gonna be rude to him.”
Sean snorted. “I’d rather die than go to your stupid little match.”
“Right,” Olivia agreed, sitting cautiously back on the desk chair. “I’m not going either. I’m not desperate enough for Dad’s attention to pretend to enjoy football. You don’t even like it. You just do it to suck up to Dad so you can stay his favourite. The perfect son with prospects and promise. Dad didn’t even blink when you decided you were bi or whatever. You can do no wrong. Whereas me… I make one decision for myself and I’m a disappointment. I’m not ‘doing enough.’”
Tom exhaled. “I don’t ask for any of it. I’m glad you dropped out of uni if you were unhappy, but I don’t want so much of Dad’s attention. He’s relentless. It’s exhausting, and it stresses me out. I get it, but that does not excuse you talking about Alfie like that.” He turned his back on the pair of them. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about Alfie behind his back like that again, or to his face. He’s been through enough. He doesn’t need you twats making him feel like shit.”
He let his sister’s bedroom door snap shut behind him and breathed. He glanced at the closed door of the spare room. He wondered whether Alfie had decompressed enough for company yet because Tom was seriously in need of a cuddle. But he would give him time, give him as much space as he needed. Goodness knew how little grace he’d been shown in all the other homes he’d had before.
Tom headed down the hall to his own room and pushed the door open. He was about to flop down on his bed but luckily he looked before he did because Alfie was curled up there. His eyes had been closed, but they flew open now.
Tom tried to soften his posture, knowing some residual tension remained there, but he caught sight of Alfie’s expression and his heart sank. “Did you hear all that?”
“Some of it.” Alfie sat up. “Thank you for… saying those things and sticking up for me. Even if she is your sister.”
Tom grimaced and sat down beside him. “Olivia’s always been a dick, but I sort of understand why most of the time. The reason she acts the way she does. Dad does give me more attention because of football. It isn’t fair how Olivia gets treated, but it’s also not fair how Olivia treats you.” Tom smiled sadly. “You’re literally the best person ever.”
“Aw,” said Alfie. He leaned in to kiss him quickly. “Or maybe you’re just smitten with me.”
“Okay!” Tom laughed. “You really did hear all of it, then?”
“Mmhm…” Alfie moved closer and wrapped his arms around Tom’s shoulders.
Tom closed the rest of the gap to kiss him more fully. Alfie’s knees came to rest on either side of Tom’s hips, and Tom’s hands slid around Alfie’s waist. He tasted like sugary tea.
Two hands fisted themselves into the front of Tom’s t-shirt, and suddenly, Alfie was pulling him down on top of him. He looked up at him through long, dark lashes. His cheeks were so deliciously flushed, his hair a tangled array of fluff. Tom caught himself on his elbows, laughing, so as not to squash his boyfriend flat. But both the movement and the increasing heat made it clear what they both wanted.
“Maybe we should shut the door?” Alfie gasped.
In his daze, it took a moment for Tom to understand. “Oh. Yep. Probably best.” He scrambled quickly to the door and closed it. “We’re going to have to be quiet. I’m not sure—”
Tom turned back to Alfie and froze.
Alfie had turned over onto his stomach and started to pull his pyjama bottoms down past his backside. His head was sideways on the pillow, facing Tom, his eyes closed, his brow furrowed as if bracing himself.
“What are you doing?” Tom breathed.
Alfie’s eyes sprang open. His hands stilled, halfway to the waistband of his underwear. “Oh,” he murmured. “I thought you wanted… I wanted you to…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Tom, it’s okay. You can… have sex with me if you… if you want to…”
“I do… want to do that with you, Alfie. Of course I do but—”
“It’s okay,” said Alfie. “You can. I want to, too.” He let his hands fall from his waistband and closed his eyes again, face pressed further into the pillows.
“Alfie…” Tom had to sit back down on the bed before his legs gave out from devastation. Alfie tensed beside him, and Tom felt vaguely sick. “Please turn back around.”
“Huh?”
“Alfie, I’d like to kiss you.”
“What?” Alfie peered at him, cheeks flushed. “Oh. Okay.”
Clearly still confused, Alfie turned onto his back and reached up to guide Tom back over him into a kiss. Tom tried to breathe and to focus on making sure each kiss, each touch, was perfect and gentle and soft enough for Alfie never to be confused or scared or, for god’s sake, pained.
But Alfie didn’t seem to want gentle or soft right now. He nipped at Tom’s bottom lip, tugging not-so gently at Tom’s hair. “Please,” he gasped. “Tom, I want you…” And he moved to turn over again.
Tom reached for his shoulder. “Wait!” He took a breath, aware of Alfie studying his features, as if searching for a clue as to how else to behave. “Y-you don’t have to turn over. I’d—I’d like to see your face. If we do it like that… I think I’d like to see your face. Is that okay?”
Alfie’s eyes widened. “But,” he whispered. “I don’t… I’ve never… Why would you…?”
Maybe Tom’s heart was just a big bloody mess at this point. “Is that… the only way you’ve done it before?”
As he nodded, Alfie’s blue eyes clouded with shame. He looked away. “I thought that was how it was meant to be. So… so you don’t get distracted while you g-get off.”
“No, n-no.” Tom drew Alfie’s face between his hands. “Look at me, Alfie. That is not the way it’s meant to be. It can be… good like that for some people I think, but I dunno… I think I’d prefer to see your face. Wouldn’t you prefer to see mine?”
“Tom, I… ye-yes, I think so.” A tear slipped out and trickled into Tom’s fingers. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, no. Absolutely none of that right now. Not about stuff like this.” He pressed a fierce kiss to Alfie’s forehead, then opened his arms, inviting Alfie to rest against his chest.
Alfie bundled himself there without hesitation. “No one has ever…” He sniffled, his hands like vices in Tom’s t-shirt. “No one has ever asked me what I wanted before. Not once. I just assumed that was how…”
“You don’t have to explain anymore,” Tom said softly. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Finally, he felt Alfie relax in his embrace—and Tom knew he would never need more than this, especially if Alfie never wanted more. “I don’t know what I’m doing either, remember? You know the grand total of my sexual experience because you’ve been there with me for all of it.”
Alfie lifted his head and chuckled wetly. “Yeah. I have, haven’t I? Can we maybe just do what we did before… again? Is that okay?”
Tom looked into those extraordinary blue eyes and tried to inject some reassurance into them. “Of course we can. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”
“And I, you?”
“Okay. Yes.”
“Yes.”
35
Alfie
As usual, the stands were half empty, but Alfie still felt out of place, especially with Debbie and Frederick beside him and no Tom as a buffer. He rubbed his hands together in the chill. He wouldn’t complain, though—he’d never complain about being cold again. Not when he was wearing his own coat, which Debbie had helped him pick out, not when he had a warm house to go home to, a warm bed to sleep in, warm arms to hold him.
“Olivia’s still not here,” Frederick grumbled at his phone. “What exactly does she have to do that’s more important than this?”
