May
1995

Roy's apartment was all warmth; lots of pillow and blankets and photos of smiling faces. The kitchen was full of dirty dishes, full ashtrays, and empty vodka bottles. In the living room, framed pictures lined the walls accompanied by posters of bands Peter had never heard of. The coffee table was scattered with empty mugs, old takeout boxes, and watermark rings. It was all mess and chaos, and after spending time in the pristine luxury of Danny's mansion, it was a breath of fresh air for Peter.

"Sorry 'bout the mess." Roy smiled sheepishly, tossing a couple of beer bottles into a black bin bag, "My sister is the worst; never cleans up after herself." He emptied out the ashtray and shoved it into a drawer, "You want anything? Beer? Something a bit stronger? I have vodka."

Peter thought back to Danny's interview earlier - about the panic attack he had had in his motel room - and nodded, "Yeah. Vodka. Sounds great." He spluttered.

Roy beamed at him, then poured out a couple of shots into a pair of glasses, and added lemonade, "I was thinking, today," He said suddenly, "After our conversation - about what I wanted to do with my life." Roy continued, "I don't even know what your ambitions are."

Peter was taken aback and took a long sip of his drink to avoid answering straight away, trying not to wince at the taste of vodka. "I don't have many ambitions."

"Right." Roy chuckled, collapsing onto the sofa and patting the seat beside him, urging Peter to join him.

"I mean, I...I used to. Life just kinda...got in the way?" He wasn't sure why he worded it as a question; maybe he wanted the answers from someone else, because he didn't have any for himself.

"What did you wanna be? When you were younger?" Roy pressed as Peter sat down next to him.

"An academic." He admitted, "Sounds boring. I even thought it was boring at the time, but still, I... It's all I ever wanted really." He shrugged pathetically, "Uni, about ten degrees, maybe eventually become a professor." He hated talking about this; about the life he used to fantasise about. It made him confront just how wrong it had all gone. "It's crazy, thinking about that now. I haven't even read a book in months."

"You never ended up going to college, then?"

Peter shrugged again, helplessly, "Like I said, life got in the way."

"How so?"

"Lot of questions tonight." Peter chuckled nervously.

Roy smiled, "I wanna get to know you."

Peter looked away, trying not to let those words hurt. Because ultimately, everything that made him feel good eventually made him feel pain too. "Listen, Roy..." He took a deep breath, "My life back in England...it sort of...I mean...it's complicated." He settled on. "It's not easy, talking about my past."

"Oh." Roy's eyes were soft and apologetic, "Sorry, I didn't-"

"No, please." Peter groaned in frustrated, annoyed at himself, "It's complicated. And you... I want to keep you simple." He said, "That doesn't make sense. I'm sorry, I just-"

"It makes sense." Roy promised, "There's parts of my past I would rather...well, keep simple." He said kindly, "I'd like to keep you simple, too."

Peter was amazed that Roy was so understanding; so patient, and sweet, and non-judgemental. Amazed that he wasn't prying into Peter's past. Maybe Roy could be the one normal thing in his life.

"Right, so, I promised you a movie." Roy reached forward, picking up a DVD from the coffee table, "I'm a sucker for romcoms." He smiled bashfully, holding it up to the light.

Peter suppressed the groan that threatened to slip from his lips. 'Cherry Bride'. The movie Danny had starred in a few years ago, with Neve Olson playing his love interest. "Great." He forced a smile, "Never seen it before." And before tonight, he had no intention of ever seeing it.

"Really?" Roy asked in vague surprise, crossing the room, and crouching down to reach the DVD player, "I mean, it's terrible and cheesy in all the right ways. You're gonna love it." He hesitated, clearly deciding whether to say something else, and then, "Plus, Daniel Fox is gorgeous." He turned around, reading Peter's face for his reaction.

Peter wondered if this was Roy's way of telling him he was gay, and Peter decided that it probably was. "Sure." He nodded noncommittally, "I guess." Why did Danny have to intrude on every part of his life?

Roy sat back on the sofa, fiddling with the remote, "Do you think so?" He asked, "Or do you prefer...y'know, Neve Olson?"

Peter smiled, "They're both gorgeous." He said, trying to ignore the fact that he was talking about his best friend and instead focus on telling Roy what he wanted to hear, "I mean, I'm not fussy about...about which celebrities I find attractive." He said awkwardly, "Do you know what I mean?"

Roy's smile relaxed, and there was a flash of relief in his eyes, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

The movie was terrible. It was about two childhood friends, one a struggling artist, the other stuck in a loveless engagement to an uptight businessman. There's lots of tension, stolen glances, and reminiscing about their shared childhood. Finally, there's a passionate kiss in the rain, a ruined wedding, and of course, the pair live happily ever after. Peter didn't think it was romantic or funny, and wondered whether the film even deserved the label of 'romcom'.

It may have been better if he had been able to focus, but Danny's face on Roy's television screen was too distracting. He still looked young, with his chipped tooth, and wonky smile. He hadn't been completely transformed yet, into the superficial American boy he was today.

When the film finished, Roy ordered a pizza and they ate it on the sofa, sipping on their third glass of vodka and lemonade, "I can't believe you didn't like it." Roy was saying in exasperation, "That's my sister's favourite film. She would slap you if she were here."

"It's predictable." Peter rolled his eyes. His cheeks were warm from the alcohol and his eyes a little fuzzy. He liked this feeling; the lightness in his chest and the emptiness behind his skull.

"Of course it's predictable." Roy agreed with a laugh, "People watch movies like this because they're predictable. Happy endings make people feel good."

"Happy endings are unrealistic." Peter argued, tossing his pizza crust aside.

"That's got to be the most depressing thing I've heard you say." Roy picked up the crust Peter discarded and ripped into it with his teeth, "You gotta believe in love. Otherwise, what's the point?" He asked with his mouth full.

"I believe in love." He promised, though he wasn't sure that that was true, "But happy endings are...well, they're rare."

"Oh, fuck that." Roy waved him off, "I'm gonna make sure you get your happy ending-"

Peter cut him off with his lips, stealing the words from Roy's mouth with a kiss. He was sure that the only reason he did it was because of the alcohol in his system, but it didn't feel like a mistake, it just felt right. Like ever since the moment he walked into that coffee shop and met Roy, this was going to happen. It was inevitable. It was always going to be like this, and he knew that now, now that they were touching and kissing and tasting each other.

Roy kissed him back, pushing the pizza box onto the floor and pulling Peter closer, hand gripping the back of his neck, creeping into Peter's shaggy brown curls. Peter had never kissed anyone like this before; not with patience and desperation at the same time. In prison, hookups had been conducted in quiet corners and deserted shower blocks, leaving you feeling dirty and used and empty. But Roy made him feel full. And Peter knew that this was how it was meant to feel.

The alcohol took control, and Peter's hands wrapped around Roy's belt, tugging at his waistband. That's when the bliss stopped, and his lips grew cold again, Roy drawing back, something flashing in his eyes which Peter couldn't quite read. "Sorry." Peter blurted out quickly.

Roy smiled reassuringly, "No, it's...it's not you, I just..." He looked away, playing with his fingers and fidgeting nervously on the sofa.

"Roy?" Peter asked softly, "Are you okay?"

"There's a few reasons I left Idaho, y'know?" He said quickly, as if he getting the words out fast would hurt less. "You have things in your past you clearly don't wanna talk about, and I...I guess I...I have things in mine that I really shouldn't talk about." He still couldn't look at Peter, "But I don't wanna hide anything from you, Peter. Because you're just gonna find out eventually, when you realise that I'm difficult to touch and..." His voice was vulnerable, bare, stripped naked.

Peter placed his hand over Roy's, squeezing tightly, "I'm sorry that happened to you."

Roy finally looked up at him, "What?"

Peter was reminded of the day at the lake, when Jenifer had finally told them the whole truth. He was reminded of all the pain he felt on his friend's behalf. The betrayal, the fear, the loss of those small parts of yourself that are kept just for you. "You don't want to be touched like that." Peter was surprised to find his voice was a whisper, "Because there was a time when it didn't matter what you wanted. A time when you didn't have a choice." He was filling in the gaps but he really wanted to be wrong.

Roy nodded, "Yeah." He breathed out, "Yeah, that's right." He admitted. "It was a long time ago now, but I still...I struggle with it. With being touched in that way, and... Well, I understand if it's too much for you..."

Peter smiled sympathetically, curling into his side and pulling the blanket over the two of them, "You got any more shitty romcoms you wanna show me?"

Roy let out a laugh that was full of relief, "Yeah." He chuckled, "Loads."