Lofty came gently thudding down the stairs – it was 11:30 on a Saturday evening and he was wearing a large blue fleece and grey pyjama bottoms. Tears were silently streaming down his face and his hands gently shook as he tried to make his way past the sitting room without gathering any attention from his Dads. In his hand he held a small envelope, once brown, now a darker stain spreading across it. He was losing strength and had to get it to the kitchen and make a final retreat to his room. He knew he should have left the envelope first, it was all trivial now. He wished Julia had just killed him, but then Dylan would never have got the past 10 years with him. It was all trivial now. He couldn't have them find him here in the kitchen. He didn't want to hurt them more than necessary. He was stumbling now and his steps grew slower, shakes taking over his body in large shudders. He couldn't.
Lofty fell to the floor with a crash, bringing a chopping board and the knife block down with him. Dylan ran through with urgency, and upon seeing his son lying unconscious, blood pooling, he screamed for his partner "DAVID! Call an ambulance, call a fucking ambulance!"
David in the other room instantly grabbed a phone: it wasn't right for Dylan to be swearing, he never swore. His fingers stumbling as he jabbed "999" into the phone and began talking, David rushed through to the kitchen where his eyes met the scene in front of him.
The room was fuelled by sheer adrenaline as Dylan clamped a tea towel on Lofty's wrist, tears streaming down his face; he hissed with panic. Meanwhile David held his partner's back, with the phone on loudspeaker, reading the bloodstained note left for them. It made him cry.
When the paramedics got there, Lofty remembered having a mask pushed against his face and then he woke. He was in a hospital room, his head hurting and his dad's sat to the side of his bed; they were crying, they were crying. What he had done was unforgiveable through his eyes, but not through theirs, never through theirs.
Lofty awoke, shaking, with tears running smoothly down his face. It was 9am. He thought back to the dream momentarily and shuddered. He hadn't had that dream in months, if you could call it a dream that was – more of a recollection of events. Gently, he fingered the scarring on his left wrist, before shaking his head in attempt to erase the memories.
He could smell pancakes and a memory from 12 years ago struck him. He was 5 and him, Dylan and Rita were making pancakes. Rita dropped hers, but Lofty managed to flip his, Dylan's hands supporting his little arms. He'd been so proud of himself.
He stretched his feet out of bed and pulled an oversized grey fleece over his t-shirt, snuggling into it away from the chill of the December air. He'd left his window open overnight so Eric could get in and out as he pleased, just hoping he wouldn't wake with a dead bird on his pillow like he had the one time. Nice one Sherlock, he thought since there was no way Eric would leave in weather like this. The contented cat lay under the duvet near where Lofty's feet had been; clearly having snuggled near the source of the heat as soon as he'd opened the window.
Face still tearstained, Lofty made his gentle thumping way down the stairs. It was rather one of his common characteristics to thud one footfall at a time when he used the stairs, yet on his way up, he always ran. It probably had something to do with his dyspraxia, but his dads had come to love the sounds that came every morning before Lofty made an appearance.
David came out into the hallway and watched as his son descended the last few stairs with fierce concentration focused on the placement of his feet so as to avoid another stair based incident – last time he'd rushed, he'd ended up in hospital with concussion. There was a fierce adoration in David's expression when Lofty looked up, almost instantly switching to concern as he noticed the dried tears smattered over his son's face.
"Wha-?" David began, before silencing himself. He knew Lofty better than to demand an answer when it could panic him – he'd tell them in his own time. "Morning Ben" he said, ruffling Lofty's curls as they made their way into the kitchen.
Dylan stood re-whisking the pancake batter by the counter; everyone knew Dylan made the best pancakes. Meanwhile, Max, Lofty's boyfriend sat at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, shaking slightly.
"Hey Max" Lofty said, still shaking the fear from his nightmare from his mind.
"Heya Loftsy"
'Loftsy' had been Max's nickname for Lofty since their first year of school and, though he pretended to hate it, Lofty secretly loved this term of endearment so often used by his boyfriend.
Lofty took a seat next to Max as Dylan placed some pancakes in front of them. "Hey" Max said softly "What's wrong?"
Lofty had avoided making eye contact with his boyfriend as of yet, ashamed of the tearstains and more so the internal sense of fear that flickered like butterfly wings, a chewing irritancy in the back of his mind.
Now his eyes flickered upwards and he caught proper sight of Max. "The nightmare" Lofty whispered, and Max nodded – he knew how often Lofty dreamt about what had taken place two years before. Lofty looked back at Max and suddenly realised just how ill Max looked. He had dark circles beneath his eyes and looked like he could fall asleep any second. His hands shook slightly as he reached to take the plate of pancakes from Dylan.
"It's okay, I've got it" Lofty said, standing to help his dad, forcing Max to sit back down again. Now turning to Max, Lofty said "you didn't say you were coming around, I would've been up earlier if you had."
"It's a Saturday Loftsy"
Suddenly it clocked him. Saturdays were Max days – Max would come around for pancakes and hot chocolate and they'd spend the day together doing whatever they wanted. The dream must've been harsh; since Lofty was convinced it was a Sunday.
"Actually" Dylan chipped in "it's a Sunday Max, you missed yesterday"
Max frowned, looking down "I'm sorry Loftsy" he mumbled, "I must've gotten the days mixed up"
"Well at least I'm not going totally crazy" Lofty laughed, immediately lifting the spirit in the room and they began to eat their pancakes, Lofty holding his boyfriends hand under the table.
After breakfast, Max tried to help wash up as he always did, but Lofty refused to let him, saying he looked shattered and suggesting that he went to pick a movie, while Lofty helped load the dishwasher.
"Dad" Lofty said to David softly once Max had left the room. "What's up with Max?"
"We don't know" Dylan said, returning to the kitchen, "But if you could try to talk to him for us, just so we know he's okay, that would be great – you'll get through to him easier"
"Yeah I can do that, what if it's something really bad?" Lofty looked worried
"Then we'll handle it" David said, placing a gentle hand on his son's shoulder.
"Okay" Lofty almost-whispered before calling through to Max - "Hey what we watching?"
"The force awakens" Max replied as Lofty entered the living room.
"Nice!" Lofty said, physically unable to contain his excitement as he jumped onto the sofa beside Max, hugging him close with one arm.
Max yawned and snuggled into Lofty's side as he pressed the play button. He liked the feeling of his boyfriend's arms wrapped protectively around him, holding him as if he'd never let go.
"Alright boys, we're going to go down to Tesco and stock up, so we'll be back soon" Dylan said, interrupting Yoda. Lofty paused and sighed jokingly.
"Daa-aad" he whined, a glint in his eye
"Sorry, sorry – to Tesco we are going" Dylan laughed, before turning and taking David's hand as they both left. The door closed.
Lofty left the TV paused and looked down at Max.
"Max" he uttered and Max sat up; looking at him "we need to talk". Lofty looked over his boyfriend's exhausted appearance and he could feel a little bit of his heart break.
"Are-are you breaking up with me?" Max whimpered, pushing away from Lofty, a hurt look growing in his eyes.
"No God no Max!" Lofty almost shouted in his urgency to avoid hurting his boyfriend "you're perfect, I'd never break up with you, we just need to talk"
"Why?"
"Because you look exhausted, and you've been shaking and twitching and looking at your bag and the time, because you're not being Max. You've got dark circles under your eyes and you look like you could sleep for a week"
"Cheers mate" Max replied sarcastically, a hint of annoyance in his voice, preparing to stand.
"No Max, I didn't mean it like that, please" Lofty begged, taking Max's hand.
Max looked hurt, and scared.
"Please, is there a reason for this? Were you marathoning star trek again? Is that what it was? Am I completely wrong? Please just tell me what's been going on"
Max remained silent, watching Lofty's lips.
"Please?" Lofty's eyes pleaded with Max's stubborn wall of silence.
"Okay fine" Max said in a monotone. "You know I want to be a nurse?"
"Yeah…" Lofty replied, confused by how wanting to be a nurse had anything to do with Max's dishevelled appearance.
"Well my AS-levels are important, I have to get all A's or they'll make me drop one and it'll be harder to get into med-school. I have to get this Lofty, I have to, it's all I'm worth" Max looked down, tears of frustration in his eyes "I've been studying every spare moment I have Lofty I have to do well, there's no other way"
"Oh Max" Lofty said softly and the tears overflowed, trickling gently down Max's face as he fell back into Lofty's arms.
"I'm exhausted and stressed and I sometimes wonder if it's all worth it, but I need to be a nurse so I can help people, just like how you do. But you're better at it than me, you aren't totally exhausted, you're coping way better than me"
"Max, that's because you were bumped up a year, I'm coping okay because I'm seventeen, not sixteen"
"It shouldn't make a difference though Lofty, it doesn't make a difference, I'm just not as good as you because I'm a failure and I have to change that"
"Max, you're not a failure, why did you get moved up a year?"
"Because I was above everyone in my year"
"Precisely" Lofty replied, hugging Max closer.
"I'm sorry" Max whispered.
"What for?"
"Being like this, I can't help it, I don't know what to do" he whimpered, looking up at Lofty, tears staining his face"
"Hey it's okay" Lofty said, hugging his boyfriend tightly "We can work something out".
Lofty held Max like that until his crying subsided, whispering sweet nothings to him and rubbing his back gently. The thoughts of his dream shook him and he was glad it was just a dream and no longer reality; he couldn't bear the thought of losing Max, now that he'd seen him at his most vulnerable.
When Max finally pulled away from Lofty's arms, he half-smiled and Lofty gently brushed his hair out of his boyfriend's eyes, handing him a few tissues.
"Better?" he asked, supporting Max as they stood and walked through to the kitchen. Max nodded weakly before Lofty continued. "I'll make some tea and we can talk about this some more, yeah?" he asked and Max nodded once more, taking a seat at the table and resting his tired head in his hands and yawning.
The front door opened as the kettle boiled and Lofty, not noticing Dylan and David make their way into the boat, carried two mugs of steaming tea across to the table.
"Here we are darling" he said softly, taking Max's hand and gently running his fingers along his boyfriend's palm. Max smiled gratefully and leant in for a kiss.
Dylan entered the room as they broke apart and promptly left, wanting to give the boys some privacy. David made to also enter the kitchen, but was stopped by Dylan.
"David, not just yet, they're content" he hissed, trying to keep his voice down.
"But these bags" David protested, jiggling them slightly in attempt to gesture towards the heavy carrier bags clutched in his hands.
"Just a few more seconds" Dylan whispered
The bags seemingly disagreed on the boy's peace as both (clearly overfilled) ruptured, sending tins and packages tumbling to the ground with a loud crash.
Lofty cried out in shock and curled into a ball out of instinct, all his muscles tensing and Max ran out the kitchen to see what had caused the commotion. Seeing David stand guiltily staring bewildered at the cans around his feet, an exhausted Max burst out laughing as Dylan pushed past to get to his son.
"Lofty my boy, it's okay" Dylan put an arm around his shoulder, keeping it there even when Lofty flinched, something he hadn't seen him do in a long time. "It's okay, David dropped some tins, silly goose" he added with a chuckle. Lofty eased a little and leant into his dad's arm and Dylan hugged him close. "I'm so proud of you, my boy" Dylan assured him, his voice calming Lofty.
Max returned to the kitchen with David, both with armfuls of tins and packages. "Well you coulda helped" he exclaimed, nudging Lofty as he took his seat once more and raised his mug of tea, taking a large sip. Dylan got up and went to help David put the shopping away, the boys now well and truly disrupted.
Lofty laughed shakily, remembering his dream for a second, and then shaking the thought. He had to think of Max now; he couldn't let his boyfriend's problem go unnoticed.
"I've had an idea" he said quietly to Max, regaining his boyfriend's attention, "but it'll only work if your grandma agrees to it"
"Okay" Max agreed "What is it?"
An hour later, Max, Lofty, Dylan and David sat on the sofa together, each with a fresh cup of tea. They'd started The Force Awakens from the beginning and Lofty and Max were duly contented. Lofty had suggested that Max revised between 9am and 5pm each day with alarms set for drinks and snacks and breaks, and then at 6pm each day, he'd come over to the houseboat and stay the night.
Max's grandma (whom he lived with) didn't mind since there were only two weeks remaining before the exams started, and it would mean that they'd both be revising and resting enough before this crucial period.
Since Max practically lived with them anyway before the exam period had started, David and Dylan hadn't minded and had in fact been quite pleased with the idea as they didn't think Lofty socialized enough, and having his boyfriend around more would help this.
"No teenage pregnancy though please" Dylan had joked when Lofty had first suggested it, earning a nudge from his son.
"When am I getting my little sibling then?" he'd retorted
"Oi you little bugger!" David had interjected, leaving the four of them cry-laughing, before going to re-start Star Wars.
Now Max nuzzled into Lofty's side, their mugs abandoned on the coffee table and they fell asleep together. David looked across and seeing them curled up together, glanced at the time. 6pm. He gently nudged Dylan and whispered. "Looks like we've got some time to ourselves"
"Looks like we have" he replied quietly, turning the TV off and leaving the room with David in tow.