“What do you call a guy with a rubber toe?”
“Urgh, Romeo…”
“Close, Roberto.”
Chad laughed, then groaned. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Thank you. I treasure your compliments.”
“If I fuck this up…”
“You won’t.” Romeo looked over to the clock on the wall. “But I doubt they’d appreciate you being late.”
“Shit.” Chad said, checking his phone. “I better go.”
“Knock ‘em dead.”
Chad gave him a hard look, and Romeo saw it, the swirl of darkness in his eyes. It had appeared there after Marc, but Romeo didn’t know exactly what it was or what it meant. Before he could question it, Chad leaned forward, pressing his lips to Romeo’s. The chip, the blip, whatever it was in his big brown eyes could wait for another day.
Romeo opened his mouth, inviting Chad’s tongue inside, but Chad made a disapproving sound and backed off. “None of that, or I really will be late.”
“Spoilsport.”
Chad took his keys and wallet off the side, then left through the front door. Romeo watched from the kitchen as he got in the car, then drove away down the dirt track.
The new farmhouse was a million times better than a prison cell, not only did he have Chad, but he could cook, go outside, watch TV, listen to the radio, do the crossword, shower for as long as he wished, go to the toilet in a separate room to the one he slept in. He could touch Chad, kiss him breathless, and wrap around his body at night.
It was better in every conceivable way, but when Romeo looked down at his hands, they throbbed with his old need. The monster hadn’t gone away, he was still lurking in the depths of Romeo’s mind, unsatisfied, and craving more.
It was only Chad that kept it at bay. He couldn’t lose Chad. Couldn’t break the promise he’d made to his mother, but with Chad about to start his new job, he’d have less time to distract Romeo.
The monster had a taste, but hadn’t quenched its thirst.
He blinked out of his thoughts and looked up just in time to see a bird fly past the window. Romeo followed it, and watched as it landed in the mud, joining two more pecking for worms, shredding their thin pink bodies with their beaks.
They chattered, enjoying the slaughter.
As he watched, he wondered whether the magpies were a good omen or whether they predicted doom.
Romeo sighed.
“Three for a girl.”
The End
