Lines Of Communication
The apartment was in darkness when Howard finally made it home and, for a moment, as he stood alone in the living room, he was confronted with memories of everything he had gained and lost and fought for and gained again. There were a lot of memories tied up in the sound of the Manchester rain drumming its fingers on the glass. He knew that this fight was all just stupidity, some on his part and some on Jason’s. They were both too stubborn for their own good sometimes. But, standing in the dark, straining his ears to try and catch the sound of Jason’s breathing disturbing the stillness, he realised that he shouldn’t take so much for granted. Jason never took anything for granted. Ever.
It was ridiculous being angry with each other, Howard knew that. They both could have seen it coming if they had bothered to look. Howard knew he shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep, but he only ever did it for Jason. He just wanted him to breathe out, to not be worried, to smile at Howard with his blue eyes all twinkling with silent gratitude. There was sometimes a wordless understanding between them, a communication that went beyond what anyone else in a room could understand. Jason could often find more meaning in a gentle hand on his hip than he could find in a whole conversation. Howard had hoped that understanding would help him. It was a promise he could never have kept – train schedules alone just wouldn’t have allowed him to get back in time, never mind the other practicalities. But Howard had just wanted Jason to be happy and when Jason didn’t accept the gesture he’d decided to stand his ground, forgetting, briefly, that Jason was steely in his resolve. Quietly steely, of course. But resolute nonetheless.
Howard had come home earlier to an empty apartment. No Jason and no note, none of the usual affections and attentions Jason so softly dropped into Howard’s lap as though he deserved them. Though Howard had tried not to let it worry him. Jason had parted from him with a single, tender kiss to his cheek, but they were not speaking and Howard couldn’t expect Jason to waver so soon. With a sigh, he sat himself down on the sofa, trying to focus on the television but instead finding his mind starting to play a loop of their parting conversation.
“Howard, you know I hate this, you know how much I need you to be there and yet you still can’t bring yourself to just be honest with me, you get my hopes up and then you just break the promise. This isn’t like when I ask you if you can come to lunch with me and Justin and you say yes then schedule a meeting over the top of it. This isn’t like telling Gaz you’re free for a gig then double-booking. This is important to me, How. I took it as a promise. Maybe I shouldn’t have done, maybe I should’ve realised. But I didn’t and you knew that I didn’t, yet you still said it,” Jason’s voice had been soft and scratchy and Howard had had to look away. He hated Jason’s disappointment.
“You know who I am, Jay,” he’d mumbled. Jason swallowed and looked down.
“Yeah. I know who you are, How. I guess I just thought who I am matters to who you are,” he whispered and Howard had to look back at him for that.
“Jay, you mean...” he began but Jason’s eyes flicked up to meet his.
“If you say ‘everything’ I’m not going to let it slide,” he challenged and Howard almost laughed.
“Why not? It’s true isn’t it?!” he asked. Jason’s eyes betrayed half a smile.
“It’s a fucking cliché and I don’t want to hear it, How,” he retorted softly.
“Yeah well, the old ones are usually the best,” Howard muttered. Jason was silent a moment, watching him carefully. But Howard simply folded his arms. Reflecting on it now, he supposed Jason knew him well enough to read that action as the start of a stand-off. Howard knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, he was in the wrong, but he wasn’t going to let Jason see that. Why bother letting Jason see when they both knew anyway? When Jason sighed it was proof he knew. He slid down off the counter, placing one hand gently on Howard’s forearm and giving his cheek a brief kiss before collecting his jacket and leaving the shop.
Howard had been pretending he was fine for an hour before the phone call came. He had known, by that point, Jason had never turned up to meet Justin for a drink after work because Jason had left the honour of fending off Justin’s somewhat huffy call all to Howard, who skilfully evaded Justin’s questions as to why he had a text from his brother saying plans had changed by pretending to be driving home having not seen Jason since lunch. He hoped Justin believed his lies. It had been another small punishment, he suspected. Jason’s revenge, not that Jason would get any pleasure from it. Jason hated punishing Howard. He was an expert at it, of course, but there was no joy in it for him. Something which comforted Howard a little. Jason loved him, even the times he didn’t like him he still loved him. That was why Howard had guessed who was calling him with ease.
“Alright Dougie,” Gary’s voice was forcedly casual.
“Hey Gaz, is he with you?” Howard asked with a sad half-smile, looking down at his nails and sighing.
“Yeah, he’s here. Him and Mark have been bickering for the past half an hour and I can’t get a word in edgeways,” Gary replied. Howard didn’t like thinking of Jason bickering with someone other than him.
“Sounds nice,” he murmured.
“He told me to call you. Well, actually, he told me not to tell you that he told me to call you. I’m supposed to be making a completely normal out-of-the-blue call but...I’m crap at lying, How,” Gary explained and Howard had to smile. It was so very Jason. I’m not talking to you but please don’t worry. I’m not talking to you but I know you love me. I’m not talking to you but I love you.
“I can hear ‘im in the background. Tell him I’m going to go out with Mike and drown my sorrows, ok?” Howard asked Gary, his voice strangely quiet to his own ears.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you pair – you’re drawing battle lines with your left hands whilst your right hands sign the peace treaty! And muggings here is stuck in the middle,” Gary reprimanded him but his voice was gentle and jovial and Howard was overcome with a rush of warmth for him.
“Please, just tell him I love him would you? Without taking the piss?” Howard asked ruefully.
“Like he doesn’t already know,” Gary chuckled and with that he hung up.
Howard and his brother sat in the corner of The Crown for hours. Howard had nursed the one pint for almost the entire time and his brother had packed him off home after a third hour of moping passed without Howard allowing him to properly change the subject at all.
So now he was back at the apartment once more. Only this time he could tell Jason had come home. Howard knew because the dishes had been done and Jason’s laptop was sitting on the desk. And, a detail which Howard couldn’t help but find touching, his iPod was sitting on the coffee table. Jason had said he’d pick it up from the repair shop for him – and when had Jason ever broken a promise to him? Even in anger he couldn’t make himself break a promise. Howard smiled; so that’s where he disappeared to when he left the shop. Those missing hours between him walking out and turning up at Gary and Mark’s had probably been spent in Manchester gridlock. Howard shook his head slightly, making his way towards the bedroom.
He moved around the room quietly, both him and Jason keeping up the pretence that Howard believed he was actually asleep. But he wasn’t asleep. He was lying with forced stillness, curled on his side, his back to Howard’s side of the bed. He didn’t move as Howard slipped between the sheets and for a moment the two of them lay, rigid and silent. Side by side, because they were always side by side on some level. But it was nice to have the comfort of Jason’s body so close – each of them liked the reassurance of the other being in for the night, because they always craved closeness. And closeness didn’t necessarily mean touching. As Howard and Jason lay awake together that night, both of them were aware of their ability to communicate through both extremes. Some days it was all about touch. A hand on an arm, cheeks kissed, fingertips to chests, palms against backs, hips grazing hips. A constant flow, a dance, a game. But other days it was about a look, a moment, a shared awareness. Howard rolled onto his back, listening to the sound of a car driving off outside. Their five minutes of silence threatened to turn into ten, but Jason still wouldn’t move.
“I’m sorry, Jay,” Howard said softly into the darkness. After a pause he turned his head to look at his husband’s back. He was lying so still it was almost impossible to see the rise and fall of his shoulders. It was funny, really. No one would ever say he was hard to love; he gave too much love and smiled too much for that. But did he do his best to try and be hard to love? Sometimes. But only with Howard. And Howard took that as a compliment, a sign of Jason’s sureness with him. You’re allowed to see me fuck up because I trust you not to let it change how you look at me. And Howard always saw Jason as a star – a star that was sometimes obscured by clouds, but was always shining. Slowly Howard rolled over, waiting a moment before pushing himself across to the other side of the bed.
Jason didn’t tense as Howard’s body pressed against his own and he didn’t flinch or pull away or open his eyes. That was how Howard knew he was doing the right thing. His arms snaked round Jason’s waist, pulling him closer and closer until Jason’s thin frame curved along the line of Howard’s chest. Howard only had to wait a few seconds to feel Jason relax into the embrace and after a minute, Jason placed his hands on top of Howard’s, which were clasped tightly around his middle. Howard interlaced their fingers and placed a kiss behind Jason’s ear.
“I’m sorry,” Howard repeated, murmuring the words into Jason’s hair. Jason squeezed Howard’s hands slightly. His eyes were open now but he looked over to the bedroom window rather than turning to meet Howard’s gaze. Because sometimes it was about a look, but other times it was about a touch. Howard placed another kiss to Jason’s skin – his shoulder this time, a tiny, almost invisible scar from a misadventure with his brothers as a kid.
It was at least another five minutes before Jason spoke, but Howard held him all the same. Knowing Jason had taught Howard patience and losing Jason had taught him how important skin touching skin could be. Jason shifted his head on the pillow slightly, his eyes catching the moonlight briefly.
“When my dad left, I didn’t...I didn’t hold it against him. I did but, not just against him, you know? I held it against everyone. I think I decided that if my dad couldn’t keep a promise to stay with my mum then no one was ever going to keep a promise to anyone. And I think the effect of that on me was that...I decided that, if no one else was going to keep any of their promises, then I’d have to keep all of mine. Sometimes I think I forget that people can make promises they want to keep, and even though they don’t keep ‘em...they always want to. It’s just beyond their control,” Jason’s voice was slow and steady and Howard listened in silence, letting him talk. He didn’t fuss as Jason spoke, choosing instead to pay attention to every word, to the way each word would lull and linger in the air around them. And when Jason stopped talking, Howard made every effort to stay still. To keep some form of constancy in Jason’s life, even if the constancy was only constant for that night, even if the constancy was something as trivial as a warm body at his back. So they lay together in silence, touching without kissing, holding without clinging. Side by side, always side by side. Lying in set patterns, learned shapes. Forming lines that were as good as any other method of communication. Or perhaps they were better, since it was certain that there were no other bodies who could fit those lines and no other people who could understand them.
After a while Howard lifted his head slightly, kissing the nape of Jason’s neck once.
“I really love you, Jason Orange.”
“Promise?”
“Jay.”
“I know. And I really love you too.”
It was ridiculous being angry with each other, Howard knew that. They both could have seen it coming if they had bothered to look. Howard knew he shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep, but he only ever did it for Jason. He just wanted him to breathe out, to not be worried, to smile at Howard with his blue eyes all twinkling with silent gratitude. There was sometimes a wordless understanding between them, a communication that went beyond what anyone else in a room could understand. Jason could often find more meaning in a gentle hand on his hip than he could find in a whole conversation. Howard had hoped that understanding would help him. It was a promise he could never have kept – train schedules alone just wouldn’t have allowed him to get back in time, never mind the other practicalities. But Howard had just wanted Jason to be happy and when Jason didn’t accept the gesture he’d decided to stand his ground, forgetting, briefly, that Jason was steely in his resolve. Quietly steely, of course. But resolute nonetheless.
Howard had come home earlier to an empty apartment. No Jason and no note, none of the usual affections and attentions Jason so softly dropped into Howard’s lap as though he deserved them. Though Howard had tried not to let it worry him. Jason had parted from him with a single, tender kiss to his cheek, but they were not speaking and Howard couldn’t expect Jason to waver so soon. With a sigh, he sat himself down on the sofa, trying to focus on the television but instead finding his mind starting to play a loop of their parting conversation.
“Howard, you know I hate this, you know how much I need you to be there and yet you still can’t bring yourself to just be honest with me, you get my hopes up and then you just break the promise. This isn’t like when I ask you if you can come to lunch with me and Justin and you say yes then schedule a meeting over the top of it. This isn’t like telling Gaz you’re free for a gig then double-booking. This is important to me, How. I took it as a promise. Maybe I shouldn’t have done, maybe I should’ve realised. But I didn’t and you knew that I didn’t, yet you still said it,” Jason’s voice had been soft and scratchy and Howard had had to look away. He hated Jason’s disappointment.
“You know who I am, Jay,” he’d mumbled. Jason swallowed and looked down.
“Yeah. I know who you are, How. I guess I just thought who I am matters to who you are,” he whispered and Howard had to look back at him for that.
“Jay, you mean...” he began but Jason’s eyes flicked up to meet his.
“If you say ‘everything’ I’m not going to let it slide,” he challenged and Howard almost laughed.
“Why not? It’s true isn’t it?!” he asked. Jason’s eyes betrayed half a smile.
“It’s a fucking cliché and I don’t want to hear it, How,” he retorted softly.
“Yeah well, the old ones are usually the best,” Howard muttered. Jason was silent a moment, watching him carefully. But Howard simply folded his arms. Reflecting on it now, he supposed Jason knew him well enough to read that action as the start of a stand-off. Howard knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, he was in the wrong, but he wasn’t going to let Jason see that. Why bother letting Jason see when they both knew anyway? When Jason sighed it was proof he knew. He slid down off the counter, placing one hand gently on Howard’s forearm and giving his cheek a brief kiss before collecting his jacket and leaving the shop.
Howard had been pretending he was fine for an hour before the phone call came. He had known, by that point, Jason had never turned up to meet Justin for a drink after work because Jason had left the honour of fending off Justin’s somewhat huffy call all to Howard, who skilfully evaded Justin’s questions as to why he had a text from his brother saying plans had changed by pretending to be driving home having not seen Jason since lunch. He hoped Justin believed his lies. It had been another small punishment, he suspected. Jason’s revenge, not that Jason would get any pleasure from it. Jason hated punishing Howard. He was an expert at it, of course, but there was no joy in it for him. Something which comforted Howard a little. Jason loved him, even the times he didn’t like him he still loved him. That was why Howard had guessed who was calling him with ease.
“Alright Dougie,” Gary’s voice was forcedly casual.
“Hey Gaz, is he with you?” Howard asked with a sad half-smile, looking down at his nails and sighing.
“Yeah, he’s here. Him and Mark have been bickering for the past half an hour and I can’t get a word in edgeways,” Gary replied. Howard didn’t like thinking of Jason bickering with someone other than him.
“Sounds nice,” he murmured.
“He told me to call you. Well, actually, he told me not to tell you that he told me to call you. I’m supposed to be making a completely normal out-of-the-blue call but...I’m crap at lying, How,” Gary explained and Howard had to smile. It was so very Jason. I’m not talking to you but please don’t worry. I’m not talking to you but I know you love me. I’m not talking to you but I love you.
“I can hear ‘im in the background. Tell him I’m going to go out with Mike and drown my sorrows, ok?” Howard asked Gary, his voice strangely quiet to his own ears.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you pair – you’re drawing battle lines with your left hands whilst your right hands sign the peace treaty! And muggings here is stuck in the middle,” Gary reprimanded him but his voice was gentle and jovial and Howard was overcome with a rush of warmth for him.
“Please, just tell him I love him would you? Without taking the piss?” Howard asked ruefully.
“Like he doesn’t already know,” Gary chuckled and with that he hung up.
Howard and his brother sat in the corner of The Crown for hours. Howard had nursed the one pint for almost the entire time and his brother had packed him off home after a third hour of moping passed without Howard allowing him to properly change the subject at all.
So now he was back at the apartment once more. Only this time he could tell Jason had come home. Howard knew because the dishes had been done and Jason’s laptop was sitting on the desk. And, a detail which Howard couldn’t help but find touching, his iPod was sitting on the coffee table. Jason had said he’d pick it up from the repair shop for him – and when had Jason ever broken a promise to him? Even in anger he couldn’t make himself break a promise. Howard smiled; so that’s where he disappeared to when he left the shop. Those missing hours between him walking out and turning up at Gary and Mark’s had probably been spent in Manchester gridlock. Howard shook his head slightly, making his way towards the bedroom.
He moved around the room quietly, both him and Jason keeping up the pretence that Howard believed he was actually asleep. But he wasn’t asleep. He was lying with forced stillness, curled on his side, his back to Howard’s side of the bed. He didn’t move as Howard slipped between the sheets and for a moment the two of them lay, rigid and silent. Side by side, because they were always side by side on some level. But it was nice to have the comfort of Jason’s body so close – each of them liked the reassurance of the other being in for the night, because they always craved closeness. And closeness didn’t necessarily mean touching. As Howard and Jason lay awake together that night, both of them were aware of their ability to communicate through both extremes. Some days it was all about touch. A hand on an arm, cheeks kissed, fingertips to chests, palms against backs, hips grazing hips. A constant flow, a dance, a game. But other days it was about a look, a moment, a shared awareness. Howard rolled onto his back, listening to the sound of a car driving off outside. Their five minutes of silence threatened to turn into ten, but Jason still wouldn’t move.
“I’m sorry, Jay,” Howard said softly into the darkness. After a pause he turned his head to look at his husband’s back. He was lying so still it was almost impossible to see the rise and fall of his shoulders. It was funny, really. No one would ever say he was hard to love; he gave too much love and smiled too much for that. But did he do his best to try and be hard to love? Sometimes. But only with Howard. And Howard took that as a compliment, a sign of Jason’s sureness with him. You’re allowed to see me fuck up because I trust you not to let it change how you look at me. And Howard always saw Jason as a star – a star that was sometimes obscured by clouds, but was always shining. Slowly Howard rolled over, waiting a moment before pushing himself across to the other side of the bed.
Jason didn’t tense as Howard’s body pressed against his own and he didn’t flinch or pull away or open his eyes. That was how Howard knew he was doing the right thing. His arms snaked round Jason’s waist, pulling him closer and closer until Jason’s thin frame curved along the line of Howard’s chest. Howard only had to wait a few seconds to feel Jason relax into the embrace and after a minute, Jason placed his hands on top of Howard’s, which were clasped tightly around his middle. Howard interlaced their fingers and placed a kiss behind Jason’s ear.
“I’m sorry,” Howard repeated, murmuring the words into Jason’s hair. Jason squeezed Howard’s hands slightly. His eyes were open now but he looked over to the bedroom window rather than turning to meet Howard’s gaze. Because sometimes it was about a look, but other times it was about a touch. Howard placed another kiss to Jason’s skin – his shoulder this time, a tiny, almost invisible scar from a misadventure with his brothers as a kid.
It was at least another five minutes before Jason spoke, but Howard held him all the same. Knowing Jason had taught Howard patience and losing Jason had taught him how important skin touching skin could be. Jason shifted his head on the pillow slightly, his eyes catching the moonlight briefly.
“When my dad left, I didn’t...I didn’t hold it against him. I did but, not just against him, you know? I held it against everyone. I think I decided that if my dad couldn’t keep a promise to stay with my mum then no one was ever going to keep a promise to anyone. And I think the effect of that on me was that...I decided that, if no one else was going to keep any of their promises, then I’d have to keep all of mine. Sometimes I think I forget that people can make promises they want to keep, and even though they don’t keep ‘em...they always want to. It’s just beyond their control,” Jason’s voice was slow and steady and Howard listened in silence, letting him talk. He didn’t fuss as Jason spoke, choosing instead to pay attention to every word, to the way each word would lull and linger in the air around them. And when Jason stopped talking, Howard made every effort to stay still. To keep some form of constancy in Jason’s life, even if the constancy was only constant for that night, even if the constancy was something as trivial as a warm body at his back. So they lay together in silence, touching without kissing, holding without clinging. Side by side, always side by side. Lying in set patterns, learned shapes. Forming lines that were as good as any other method of communication. Or perhaps they were better, since it was certain that there were no other bodies who could fit those lines and no other people who could understand them.
After a while Howard lifted his head slightly, kissing the nape of Jason’s neck once.
“I really love you, Jason Orange.”
“Promise?”
“Jay.”
“I know. And I really love you too.”