You usually hate going shopping for groceries. It's such a waste of fucking time. Sometimes it becomes unavoidable, you can't skip meals or waste money on take out all the time. But tracking down the items on Trant's list is oddly satisfying. As it list included some of his exotic teas and some other specific things, you decided to go to the big supermarket near the precinct. It's busy. As always it's not the people on their own who get in your way, but the couples and family groups.

Is this what your future holds? Mundane things like going shopping together? You imagine Mikael would be better behaved than some of these kids. One of the ones in front of you has opened a box of cereal and is spilling it on the floor in an effort to get the toy out of the box.

Usually you'd look down on these people and their sad, boring lives. But the thought of shopping with Trant and holding the basket between you, hands touching, like that couple who got in your way earlier, that thought is not so bad. Only you'd never be so fucking obnoxious, obviously. You realise that this might be the best case scenario as you wait in the line for the checkout. Trant just about able to leave the house for short, essential trips. You don't know if he's going to get better. He might get worse.

You feel a sudden fear that you could lose him. Not through your own stupidity this time, but through terrible luck that has followed you all your life. You hurry through the checkout and back to Trant's MC.

Trant greets you with a smile when you get to his place. "Hey Jean," he says. "How was your day?"

"Oh, you know," you say, wanting to grab him in a hug, but he takes the shopping bags from you and backs off before you can. "You okay?"

Trant shrugs. "It hasn't been the best day to tell the truth, I've been very tired."

You take off your jacket and shoes, then follow him into the kitchen. He starts to unpack the shopping bags, and you walk up behind him and pause. Is it really okay for you to just go ahead and hug him? You wrap your arms around him anyway, resting your head on his shoulder. You inhale his scent and clutch him tighter.

Trant leans his head against yours and touches your arm. "Thank you," he says.

"What for?"

"Well I presume you're trying to make me feel better," he says, stroking your arm.

"No," you say before you can reconsider being so honest. "I just wanted to hug you."

Trant laughs softly. "That makes me feel better," he says. He turns to kiss you, and you kiss him back. It feels good, but you can't help but wonder if you're doing this right. This is all so unfamiliar to you. There's still that voice in the back of your head insisting that you don't want this, you don't deserve this. You try to ignore it.

"Do you want me to cook tonight?" you ask, and he strokes your arm again and squeezes your hand as you take your arms from around him.

"I didn't know you could cook, Jean," Trant says. You daresay he looks a little impressed.

"Well, I'm no Stas-Rajko starred chef, but I can make a few things," you say, suddenly worried your cooking won't meet Trant's standards.

"I would love for you to cook for me, Jean, but I have already asked Laila to cook for us tonight."

"That was a slick way of avoiding my cooking," you say.

"I wasn't-"

"I'm joking," you say.

The buzzer for the front door sounds. "Oh, perfect timing, that must be Laila now," Trant says."

"I'll go," you say, and head downstairs.

Laila is waiting at the front door. A delicious smell of garlic and herbs radiates from the bag she is holding.

"Thanks," you say, holding out your hand for the food.

"Hey, you're Jean, right?" she says, handing over the bag.

"Yeah."

"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself last time. I'm Laila," she says, holding out a hand.

You take her hand and she gives it a surprisingly firm shake for a woman.

"I've known Trant for quite some time now. We both used to volunteer at the shelter and soup kitchen, before the building, uh, collapsed," she says.

You're about to say you know the one, but then you recall there's been a few building collapses in Jamrock in recent times. "You're a damn good cook," you say.

She smiles. "Thanks. I love to cook and I'm quite proud of the little business I've built up here," she says.

"I really liked that apricot pudding you made," you say. "Any chance I could get the recipe?" You resist the urge to add for my sister or for my mother.

Laila crosses her arms. "No way. It's a family secret."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

She laughs. "Just kidding. It's just a recipe I altered from the back of the box of Semenese sugar. I'll write it down and bring it for you next time."

"Thanks," you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"No worries. Are you just getting into cooking?"

"You could say that."

"Well it's pretty hard to go wrong with that one. Everyone's gotta start somewhere," Laila says. She shakes her head. "I've never understood why so many Revacholian men refuse to even learn to boil an egg."

You shrug. "Probably afraid of getting their man cards revoked," you say.

She grins and touches you on the arm. "Hey, you two enjoy your evening, yeah?" she says as she turns to leave.

"Thanks. Same to you," you say, feeling your face going red, and not just because of the cooking thing. You're reminded of the bullshit supranatural idea that members of the homo-sexual underground can just recognise each other. Harry would say shit like that, why did he have to call it that? It's bad enough that you've got to hide it without giving it some fucking dumb name that makes it sound worse than it is. In fact, Harry said something like that to you the first time he-

You slam the front door. No, you're not thinking about that. You get back in the elevator with the food.

You arrange your face into what you hope is a normal expression before you go back into Trant's apartment.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

You nod and avoid his eyes. Trant has a lot to say about the food, so he doesn't press you further.

"I spoke to Elise about Mikael, and she is fine for me to have him, so long as I don't do any driving. She doesn't want me or him to be in any danger," he says over dessert. "What's your schedule like?"

"I'm working tomorrow, then I have Monday off and then Tuesday I'm on the night shift."

"Perfect. Perhaps you could drive me over tonight, if it's not too much trouble?"

You nod.

You help Trant clear up after dinner, then follow him into the living room. He calls his ex-wife and starts negotiations.

"No, no, that's fine, it is getting pretty late. How about we pick him up tomorrow morning? It would have to be early as Jean is working," he says, and looks at you. You nod. "Yes, until Tuesday?" He looks at you again. "Is that okay with you, Jean?"

"Yeah."

Trant turns his attention back to the phone. "No, of course, I won't be driving, don't worry. Yes, I know he has school. Yes, of course. Jean can do that too. Fine, I'll check with him." Trant turns to you again, looking slightly exasperated. "You'll be able to take Mikael to school and pick him up again on Monday and Tuesday, won't you?"

You might be a bit tired on Tuesday, but it's doable. You decide not to mention it. "Sure," you say.

He talks a little longer on the phone, then hangs up the receiver and gives you a tired smile.

"She really doesn't like me, huh?" you say.

"What? I didn't really get that impression. She's just concerned for Mikael's safety, that's all. I shouldn't have told her I went back to work. Now she thinks I'm going to drive again and put him in danger."

"I guess I'd be suspicious of my son's dad's new friend too."

"I don't think she's suspicious of you." He frowns. "Not you specifically, anyway."

You're dying to ask what the deal is between Trant and his ex. But you suspect now is not a good time. He leans back on the couch. "I wish I wasn't so tired. I'm afraid I am not going to be good company this evening."

Your first thought is that he's trying to get rid of you.

"I'm glad you're here, Jean," he says, as if he noticed your insecurity.

You reach over and take his hand. "You put up with my fucking terrible company all the time," you say.

"I don't think you're bad company at all," he says, leaning against you.

You smile and squeeze his hand.

"This is supposed to be an exciting and happy time for us. There is so much I want to tell you, so much I want to talk about. But I'm so exhausted. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you say.

He leans his head against yours. "If I'm quiet, I don't want you to think it's because I don't love you, that I've changed my mind about you or anything of the sort."

You're not sure what to say to that, so you don't say anything. The two of you sit like that in silence for some time.

Eventually Trant gets up to put on a film. You quickly agree to something random, and Trant selects an arthouse horror film about a group of people who become lost in the pale. It's genuinely unsettling, and for a while it distracts you from your own problems. Half way through, you realise Trant has fallen asleep beside you. You don't make it to the end, and when you wake up the player has got to the end of the reel.

When Trant wakes up he is still very groggy, and you have to help him to bed. You didn't discuss staying over tonight, and it seems presumptuous to assume you can stay any time now you're together, but you are supposed to take him to pick up Mikael early tomorrow morning so it would make no sense to go home and come back.

You go to clean your teeth and get ready for bed, and then go back to check on Trant. He's asleep already. You reach out and touch his hair. He doesn't react. You can't help but be worried. He said he had a bad day, and seemed more tired than usual. Maybe you should sit and watch over him.

After five minutes, you start to feel very sleepy yourself, and hoping that this is not a major violation, you slip into bed beside him. He doesn't notice, he's still fast asleep. You turn onto your side to face him. You'd like to cuddle up to him, but that seems weird when he's asleep. Never being in a stable or sober relationship, there are so many things that are a mystery to you. You hope Trant won't think you're a fucking loser for having no clue about these things. You close your eyes.

In the morning you wake up to Trant moving about beside you. "Good morning," he says.

"Morning," you mumble, still feeling a bit guilty about getting into bed with him.

"I was so out of it yesterday I don't remember getting in bed."

"You fell asleep on the couch. I helped you."

A look you can't quite figure out crosses Trant's face.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have slept here. I just wanted to be here in case anything happened."

Trant looks sad. "Oh. Thank you."

You're not sure how to take that. You'd really like to snuggle up to him like you have a few times before, but you have no idea if that would be welcomed so you get out of bed before things can get any more awkward. "We have to go pick up Mikael," you say.

"Yes, yes of course," Trant says, getting up too.

"Damn, I should have brought fresh clothes," you say. It's not like you never wear the same clothes several days in a row, but you feel like you need to stop doing that, at least while you're around Trant.

"I'll find something for you," he says, going to the wardrobe. "Okay, bad news. I seem to be out of clean white shirts. I have other colours. Lilac, periwinkle. A pale green that is almost grey. I think that would go nicely with your eyes."

You feel a flutter in your chest at Trant's words. You're not good at taking compliments, but your eyes are one part of you that even you find it hard to hate. It's weird and difficult to accept that anyone could find you attractive, but you really want to believe Trant could see you in that way. You try to shake the thought off. There's a decision to be made and you're short of time.

"I mean, I don't give a shit, but the guys at work will. In all these years I've never shown up at work in anything other than a white shirt, and trust me, they will fucking notice. I'm gonna have to call by mine on the way."

Trant looks at the clock. "Do you think we have time?"

You follow his gaze, there isn't much time to spare. "Uh, I might be late for work. Don't worry, we'll still go get Mikael no matter what."

Trant lends you a t-shirt to wear for now, and you hurry to get ready. You're in such a rush it doesn't occur to you that Trant has never seen where you live until you're almost there. He will see how you live eventually, you can't hide it from him forever. You do your best to look smart and presentable at work, but even so it shouldn't come as any great shock to him that you're poor.

"Sorry. It's a bit of a shithole," you say as you turn the corner.

"It can't be that bad," Trant says with unwise sureness.

You consider asking Trant to wait in the MC, but before you know it he is following you into your building. You're painfully aware of the damp smell and the flickering lightbulb in the lobby that you have grown to ignore. Trant doesn't say anything, just follows you through the lobby and up the steps.

"I was never planning on staying here long," you explain as you open the door to your apartment.

"How long have you been here?"

"Uh… nine years I think." You rush into your bedroom to grab a fresh shirt before Trant can comment on that.

When you return, you find Trant standing in your living room, looking at one of the holes in the wall. You're not sure how obvious it is that you made it yourself. At least there's only one bottle of whiskey and one glass on the coffee table. It doesn't look bad, all things considered. But imagining how it must look through Trant's eyes makes you feel deeply ashamed.

"It's that fucking bad, okay?" you say.

Trant turns to look at you, and touches your arm sympathetically. "Some art for the walls would brighten the place up. I have a some pieces in storage that won't fit anywhere at the moment, if you'd like them?"

You scoff. "Thanks, but the walls are so shit it'd probably fall off."

He gives you a small smile. "I'm sure there's something we can do."

You shake your head. "Just forget you've seen this place," you say. "We should go."

He follows you out of the building and doesn't say any more about how you live, but you're sure he must be thinking about it. You drive to Mikael's mother's house in relative silence.

Trant says he can make it up the steps to the house by himself today, so you wait in the motor carriage. The door opens as he is on his way up, and it looks like Mikael is ready. That's good, you might only be slightly late for your shift.

Trant and his ex-wife stand and talk for a few minutes. You see him point at you and she looks in your direction and gives you a cautious wave. You raise a hand in response. Yeah, she probably hates you. Whether it's because she assumes you're been fucking her ex-husband the whole time, or because she's just suspicious of the stranger who's hanging round the son she's overprotective of, you don't know. Either way, it's a fucking uncomfortable situation to be in.

"I've been thinking about it and I know how to beat the next chapter of Würms!" Mikael tells you as he climbs into the back seat of the motor carriage.

"Great," you say and you start the engine as Trant gets in.

Trant turns around. "I know it's hard when you're excited about something, but remember to say hello, Mikael," he says.

"Oh. Hello Uncle Jean," he says, waving to his mother as you speed off.

"Hey, kid," you say.

"Was your mother watching?" Trant asks.

"Yes!" Mikael replies, missing the stress in his father's voice.

"Jean, I know you're in a rush today, but if you could make sure to drive very slowly up to and away from Mikael's mother's house in the future, that would really help."

"Your mother must really hate TipTop, huh?" you say.

"Oh, we're not allowed to watch that," Mikael says. "It's boring anyway. I like trains better."

Trant is still looking at you.

"Yeah. Sorry," you say. "I'm not driving like an old man the whole way though. I gotta get to work."

Trant nods. "The chances of being involved in an accident are higher when driving significantly below the speed limit than driving slightly above it. But Elise still worries, so let's not make her worry more, okay?"

You can only imagine the sort of arguments that are going to happen in that household when Mikael is old enough to drive, but you have enough sense to keep that thought to yourself.

"Well, I'll see you guys tomorrow," you say as you pull up outside Trant's building.

"Tomorrow?" Trant says.

"Yeah, I gotta go to work, remember?"

Mikael looks horrified. "But it's Sunday!" he says.

"Crime doesn't stop at the weekends," you say. "In fact, that's often when people commit more crimes. I guess because most people aren't working and have the time for it."

"Statistically, he's right, but I'm not sure that is the main reason. It may be one element, but why and when people commit crimes is complex and multi-factorial. I have some papers on that topic, I'll dig them out if you're interested, Mikael."

"Hmm, maybe after Würms," Mikael says diplomatically as his father gets out of the MC and opens the door so he can climb out.

Trant lingers by the open passenger side door. "Jean, you're more than welcome to come and have dinner with us tonight," he says.

"I'll be working late. And you don't want me interfering with family dinner."

A look of sadness crosses Trant's face and you wonder if you said the wrong thing. You want to reach over and kiss him, or touch his hand, since these are things you can do now when you don't know what to say. But you can't right now, not in front of Mikael. Plus you're outside, and other people might see. You'd like to go inside with them, and give Trant a hug when Mikael isn't looking, but you don't have the time.

"I'll be here tomorrow to take Mikael to school," you say.

"Okay. Thank you for driving for us," Trant says. "Have a good day at work."

You nod, and he closes the passenger side door. They both wave to you as you drive off.

On the way to work, you wonder if you did the right thing by turning down dinner. Trant seemed like he really wanted you to come. But Mikael's gonna get pretty suspicious if suddenly Uncle Jean is constantly hanging around. Unless Trant says something, you're assuming you'll be keeping your relationship secret even from his son. But it's not just that. You feel uncomfortable intruding on Trant's life too much. You're sure he'll get sick of you being there all the time, and he probably wants to spend some time alone with his son who has hasn't seen in weeks.

Even being alone with Trant isn't simple. Your relationship is very new and tenuous, you feel like you're just a few wrong words away from fucking things up completely. But when other people are involved, like Mikael, or your colleagues, you feel like you don't belong there at all. What if Trant realises that no matter how much he likes you, you just don't fit in his life?

You light a cigarette while you're stopped at a red light. Yeah, it's best for now if you stay out of the way. Only show up when you're needed, or when you can be alone together. The thought of that weighs heavy on your chest. You inhale on your cigarette, then blow out the smoke in a heavy sigh. It's nobody's fault, it's just the way the world is.