Chapter Text
The problem with having been divorced for over two years, David thought to himself, was that he’d passed the allotted time in which people would feel sorry for him, and was now squarely in the phase where people wondered why he hadn’t found someone else yet. The other problem was that all his non-work friends were people he knew through his ex-wife.
It was this particular conundrum that had caused him to spend most of that morning sighing dramatically every ten minutes. His co-workers had yet to pick up on that, it seemed, or most likely they were intentionally ignoring it. Unfortunately for him, the meeting was winding down, and he hadn’t yet gotten to the stage of desperation where he’d put his own personal issues on the docket. Instead, he just gave one last, deep sigh.
“...so if we just increase the DPS, that should be fine, and oh my god, David, what is it?” Ian said, finally turning away from Poppy to address the giant sighing elephant in the room.
Brad, who was already standing, shook his head. “Stop falling for that shit, Ian, I told you.”
“I know, but he looks like a sad child,” Ian complained, gesturing at David, who shrunk down in his seat a little. Here came the inevitable humiliation. Still, it was better than being ignored entirely.
“Oh, it’s nothing—” David began.
“Great, let’s get moving, then,” Brad said, picking up his iPad and coffee.
“It’s just…”
“Ugh, here it comes,” Brad groaned. David gave him his best pleading look. To his surprise, it actually worked; Brad’s shoulders sagged, and he sat down again. “Fine. But make it short.”
“I’m just… in a bit of a pickle,” David said. “Friends of mine are throwing a party for their twentieth wedding anniversary…”
“Didn’t realise you had friends outside of work,” Poppy muttered.
“...and they’re friends I know through my wife.”
“Ah, there it is.”
“Ex-wife,” Brad said.
“Ex-wife, yeah. Which is the problem. Because I wanna go, but my ex is gonna be there as well. With her boyfriend. Her handsome, successful, rich boyfriend,” David explained.
“So?” Brad said, sounding intensely bored by this subject.
“So, I’m gonna look like a loser if I show up alone!”
“Don’t be dramatic, David,” Ian said, “who cares if you’re alone? I’m divorced and single, doesn’t bother me.”
“Doesn’t it?” Poppy said, smirking a little. Ian glared at her.
“No! I’m a free man, I can’t be tied down. I mean, I could if I wanted to, but I don’t. So I’m not.”
“Sure.”
“Shut up, Poppy. David, just go to the damn party on your own.”
“But I hate going to parties on my own,” David whined, “I always end up standing in a corner by myself. It’s miserable.”
“You could try and find a date?” Poppy suggested.
“It’s this Saturday, how am I supposed to find a date that quick?”
“Go on any random dating app and mention that you’re rich,” Brad said. “Should be easy enough.”
“Okay, well,” David muttered, not wanting to go into detail about how difficult he’d found dating apps so far, “I’m not taking someone on a first date to a friend’s anniversary party. That’s weird. And it’ll just make me seem desperate.”
“You are desperate.”
“I know, Brad! But they don’t need to know that!”
“Can’t you just take a friend?” Poppy asked. At David’s embarrassed look, she sighed, “Right, you have no other friends.”
“Well—I mean, I do, it’s just, they’re all already married, so… Look, I just—I don't want my wife—my ex-wife, or anyone else for that matter, to think that I’m still… pining after her, or whatever. I want people to know that I’ve—I’ve moved on, and I’m successful and happy and stuff. And the best way to sell that is to show up with a partner.”
There was a long pause during which David didn’t dare look up, knowing he’d be met with pitying expressions from Ian and Poppy. He knew it was sad, he knew it was pathetic, but he already faced near-daily humiliation from his staff, from Montreal, from the very people in this room… was it really too much to ask for one night where people might think he was a well-adjusted guy?
Brad finally broke the silence. “You could hire an escort.”
“Oh, come on,” David groaned.
“What? I’m sure there’s plenty of girls out there who’d be happy to spend a night at some boring party in exchange for cash.” Brad shrugged. “Beats having to jack off geriatric oil tycoons.”
“I’m not hiring a prostitute—”
“They’re called sex workers, David. A little respect, please.”
“People are gonna see straight through that,” Poppy interjected. “Maybe you could ask someone from the office? That way it’s someone you actually know. Like… what about Sue? You two get along.”
David felt his face turn red. “Oh, yeah. I, uh…”
“Oh,” Poppy said, “you already asked her.”
“Yeah…”
“And she said no.”
“Yeah.”
“Yikes,” Ian mumbled. “And there’s not exactly a lot of other women at MQ. I mean, there’s Carol, but she’d kill you on the spot if you asked her. Or if you asked anyone else, really. Pretty sure making one of your employees fake date you is a no-no in her books.”
“Well… depends on how high-up they are in the company, maybe?” David said slowly. He cast a hopeful glance at Poppy. “I mean, Poppy… you’re co-creative director… and a woman…”
Poppy stared at him blankly for a second, before she got what he was hinting at. “Oh, god no.” At his hurt expression, she hastily added, “I mean, no offence, you’re—I mean, you’re fine, I guess, you’re nice. But. No.”
“Right,” he muttered, “thanks, Pop.”
“I’m way too young for you, anyway.”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“It would just be weird.”
“Got it, Poppy.” He sighed, slinking down into his chair, rubbing his face with his hands. A nightmare. It was just a nightmare. He was just gonna have to face the music and show up alone and let everyone know what a sad, pathetic little man he was.
Next to him, Brad took a sip of his coffee. He seemed to consider something.
“I’ll do it.”
A silence fell as everyone in the room stared at Brad.
“...what?” David said after a few moments, sure he must have misheard it.
“I’ll do it. I’ll be your fake boyfriend.”
David let his hands slip from his face, sat up straighter in his chair.
“Is this… are you joking?” he asked carefully, because this couldn’t be real.
“No,” Brad said, “I’m serious.”
“But—” David stammered, letting out a slightly incredulous laugh. “But—I mean, I’m not—we can’t, I’m not—I’m straight?”
“Hm,” Brad said.
“What, hm. What’s that supposed to mean?” David sputtered.
Ian looked at him sceptically. “You did have a sex dream about me.”
“What—how did you—?”
“You’re always talking about how hot Clive Owen is,” Poppy added.
“That’s not—that’s just objectively true, that doesn’t mean—”
“One time you talked for half an hour about Brendan Fraser in The Mummy,” Brad pointed out.
“It’s a good movie!”
“You spent most of that time talking about his hair.”
“I was just… just admiring his… his…” He trailed off as he was suddenly faced with re-examining his entire life.
“Look, whether you’re straight or not doesn’t matter,” Brad said, putting heavy air quotes around the word ‘straight’. “You’re already lying about having a partner, what gender that partner is doesn’t really matter. In fact, it could be an advantage.” He smirked. “Think about it. If your ex questions the legitimacy of our relationship, you can just just pull out the homophobia card. Knowing the demographic you hang around in, she’ll be too scared of being called a bigot to start shit. It’s foolproof.”
“Don’t listen to him, David,” Ian said, looking at Brad with suspicion. “Knowing that ghoul, he wants something big in return for this.”
“Now, Ian,” Brad said, smiling serenely, “that sounds like I’d be bribing my boss, which you know I never would. Of course, if David wants to do me a little favour, for no particular reason, I couldn’t stop him.”
David stared at Brad. Ian was right, this was a terrible idea. And yet… “What do you want?”
“Well,” Brad said, lacing his fingers together, “I’d love it if you talked to my contacts in Japan, they have some great ideas about making an MQ gacha game. And I know”—he held up a hand before Poppy could angrily interrupt—“that we’ve discussed this before, and some people expressed discomfort at the idea, but I would really appreciate it if you just talked to my guys and looked at some data from the games they’ve produced. Especially the data concerning the profits of these games.”
There it was. Of course there was a catch, of course it was all about money. He’d been hounding David about this gacha thing for weeks now, and Poppy had spent just as much time talking David out of it, pointing out that they already had the casino and battle royale and that they really didn’t need to sell out the Mythic Quest name even more with yet another way to trick kids into what was essentially gambling.
Brad leaned towards David a bit. “Think about it, David. I’m rich, successful, and I know how to manipulate people. I could turn everyone at that party against your ex. I could destroy her relationship, if you want. I could humiliate her,” he said, his voice low, his eyes shining. “Or I could just make you look good. I’ll hype you up so much, no one will even spare a glance for your ex and her boyfriend.”
“He’s literally manipulating you right now,” Poppy said, though David barely heard her. Somehow, he couldn’t tear his eyes from Brad’s.
“All you have to do is just talk to my contact. Everything else is entirely up to you. You’re the boss, I can’t make you sign anything, after all. Just let them show you what they can do.” Brad leaned back in his chair. “And then you can show up at that party with the hottest guy in the office on your arm.”
“Excuse me, if anyone’s the hottest guy in the office, it’s—”
“Ian, you’re barely in the top ten,” Poppy snapped. “David, don’t listen to Brad. Just go to the party on your own, it’s not worth getting into bed with that snake— metaphorically, I mean,” she added quickly, when Brad raised an eyebrow.
David’s eyes were still locked onto Brad’s. He found it a bit hard to process all this, truth be told. Half of his brain was still trying to figure out if he was straight or not.
“I guess… I guess I could talk to the guys in Japan,” he started slowly. Brad’s smile widened as Poppy groaned. “Just to hear them out. I mean, I’m sure Montreal would appreciate it if I… explored our options.”
“Sounds like a perfectly fine business decision,” Brad said, looking pleased. “On a completely unrelated note, I’d love to go to that party with you on Saturday.”
“Okay,” David said, his voice a touch high, “great. I’ll—uh—I’ll let you know when and—and all the details. And stuff. So that’s… that’s good.”
Ian rolled his eyes. “This is going to be a fucking shitshow.”
“David, you got a minute?”
David looked up from his screen to see Ian standing in the doorway to the office.
“Uh, sure,” he said, “good timing, actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Montreal’s been asking about Zeus—”
“This isn’t about the expansion,” Ian said, closing the door behind him. “Are you still planning on taking Brad to that party tomorrow?”
“Oh,” David said, feeling his face heat up for some reason, “yeah, yeah, that’s—that’s still happening.”
“Okay. Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t do it.” When David still looked confused, he sighed, walking over to David’s desk and sitting down on it. “Look, man, you’re a nice guy and a decent boss and everything—but you cannot handle Brad.”
“Handle him?” David laughed, a touch nervous. “It’s just a party—”
“David, I went to the same college as him. I’ve seen the way he treats guys, and it’s not pretty. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Ian, it’s not… it’s not like that. He’s just doing me a favour in exchange for the gacha thing. It’s like a business transaction, really.”
“Uh-huh,” Ian said, sounding unconvinced. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before. It’s just platonic, it’s nothing serious, we’re just going to a party together… And next thing I know, there’s a guy sobbing on my couch because he had his heart broken by Brad fucking Bakshi. He’s a sociopath, remember? He enjoys toying with people.”
David looked away. It was starting to feel patronising, the way Ian talked to him. Like David didn’t know that Brad was an asshole, like he hadn’t been the main target of Brad’s devious schemes for years. It felt a bit like he was a teenager and Ian his concerned dad, which was extra strange because he was fairly certain Ian’s actual son had never gotten a talk like this.
“I’m just trying to look out for you—” Ian started, but David abruptly stood up, cutting him off.
“I know what I’m doing, Ian,” he said coldly. “I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions.”
“Okay, but you’re very susceptible to flattery, and Brad knows that, he knows how to play you—”
“This is very inappropriate, Ian,” David snapped. He tried to stare Ian down, very aware that there was a blush creeping up his cheeks. “I’m your boss, and—and my private life is none of your business.”
“You made it our business by bringing it up at the meeting.”
“Well—this is—we’re not talking about this any more. I’m going to do what I’m going to do and… and that’s that. Period. Get back to work.”
“Alright, alright…” Ian said, sliding off the desk. “It’s your grave to dig, man. Just promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t fuck him.”
Ian’s words were still ringing in his ears on Saturday evening. Brad had insisted on coming to his apartment early, to make sure, as he put it, that David looked presentable enough to pass as his boyfriend. Which was why he was currently standing in his bedroom, dabbing concealer under David’s eyes.
“Isn’t this a bit much?” David muttered, as Brad expertly made his dark circles disappear. He was having a bit of trouble breathing properly with the other man standing so close, a reaction he didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about, as it was sure to send him into some sort of spiral.
“It’s 2021, David, you’re not gonna die from wearing a bit of makeup,” Brad said. “In fact, you look much more alive now.”
He set the concealer aside, stepped back to take a good look at David. Clearly he wasn’t satisfied with his work yet, as he stepped closer again, fussing with David’s clothes. It felt… oddly domestic. Reminded him of going out with his wife, how she’d always insist on buttoning up his blouse for him, claiming she was faster at it because her fingers were more nimble. The way she’d lovingly tie his ties for him, the little smile on her face as she pulled it tight, how they’d walk hand-in-hand to their car, him gallantly holding the door open for her every time (and later, the annoyance on her face if he wasn’t fast enough, the way she pulled the tie just a little too tight). God, he really shouldn’t be thinking about all that, tonight was about showing her up, showing her he’d moved on. He tried to divert his thoughts, but that just meant he was focusing on Brad, on his hands smoothing out the collar of his fanciest flannel blouse, his face closer to his than it had ever been.
Don’t fuck him.
“Should we practice kissing?” he blurted out, completely against his own will.
Brad’s hands stilled as he looked up at David, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I see you’ve gotten over your little sexuality crisis, then.”
“No, I—” David stammered, his face turning red, “I just mean, if we’re gonna pass as a couple…”
“You always make out with your partner when you’re at someone else’s anniversary party?”
“Ah, well—I guess, I don’t know, I hadn’t really thought about—I just feel like it might help sell it, and I’ve never… I’ve never kissed a man.”
“I’ve got good news for you, David, all humans have mouths regardless of gender.”
“I know! I know, I just… if we’re more—more comfortable around each other, that might… that might help…” he said, his voice wavering under Brad’s persistent gaze. That smile was still present on his face.
A few seconds of silence. Brad said, “You’re funny.”
“What?”
“You’re funny,” Brad repeated, leaning in closer, his hand coming up to lift David’s chin. “That’s why I keep you around.” Then, with a gentleness that David had never in a million years expected from Brad, he placed a soft, lingering kiss on David’s lips. When they broke apart, he didn’t move away, his breath hot on David’s face, his hand still on David’s chin. They stood there for a moment. He couldn’t be sure, because his brain was busy short-circuiting, but David felt like Brad was waiting for him to make a move. Felt like maybe he was giving David a chance to back out.
Don’t fuck him.
He wasn’t going to fuck him. Obviously he wasn’t going to. This was just to sell it to their audience. He closed the distance between them, his own hand gingerly reaching up to rest on Brad’s chest as he kissed him. He felt Brad smile against his mouth, briefly, before he moved his own hand to the back of David’s neck, pulling him in even closer. David couldn’t help but let out an embarrassing little whimper as Brad’s tongue slid against his. It really had been far too long since he’d made out with anyone. Maybe that was why it felt so electric, or maybe that was just the novelty of kissing a guy, or maybe it was just because Brad was very good at kissing. He smelled nice, too; a sort of earthy, woodsy smell, with a hint of something sweet. Probably from some excruciatingly expensive aftershave, knowing him.
They broke apart far quicker than David would have liked, Brad taking a step back with a self-satisfied smile on his face.
“That enough practice?”
“Uh, yeah,” David said, trying to collect himself, “yeah that’s—that was good.”
“Glad to hear it,” Brad said. He took another critical look at David and reached out to fuss with his hair. “You gotta hide that receding hairline a bit, man.”
“Cheers, Brad,” David sighed, somewhat thankful that Brad immediately got back to insulting him. Made him feel a bit more normal, at least.
“Right,” he said, “let’s get this show on the road.”
“So what’s our strategy for tonight?” Brad asked as they walked up the driveway to the party. “Do I go in for the kill? Humiliate her? Break them up? Break them?”
“What? No!” David sputtered as he rang the doorbell. “Jesus Christ, Brad, just… be nice.”
“Hm,” Brad said, disappointment clear in his voice, “okay, bit boring, though. Are you sure I can’t break them a little bit?”
“No! Just be the perfect boyfriend, alright? None of your fucking mindgames—heeey, Marie!” He quickly forced a big smile on his face when the door opened, revealing a tall, glamorous woman in her late forties.
“David! So good to see you again.” The woman planted two kisses on his cheek, engulfing him in a cloud of heavy perfume as she did. She turned to Brad, her eyes lighting up. “And you must be Brad!”
“Indeed I am,” Brad said, giving her his friendliest, most charming smile and holding out his hand.
“David’s told me all about you,” Marie said, her many bracelets jingling as she grasped Brad’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Although you never said he was gorgeous,” she added to David with an exaggerated wink. He felt his face heat up, but Brad just laughed it off, placing a firm hand on David’s back.
“You told her all about me?” Brad muttered, as Marie ushered them through the house and into the spacious backyard, where the other guests had gathered.
“Not that much,” David replied, “I just wanted to, y’know, inform them about…” He waved his hand around vaguely, “... this.”
“You dating a guy.”
“Well, yeah. Shouldn’t I have?”
“No, that’s a good move,” Brad said. “Gives the hosts a few days to get used to the idea, plus it probably makes them feel special that you told them ahead of everyone else. Gives them a bit of a superiority complex over it, ensures that they’re on our side from the get-go… Good thinking.”
“Uh, sure,” David said, like he had actually thought about all that when he’d called Marie a few days ago. Mostly he’d just been nervous that he’d chicken out if he had to introduce Brad as his boyfriend on the spot, or have a panic attack. In fact, he wasn’t sure he wasn’t still going to have a panic attack. He could see a couple of familiar faces among the guests, saw them eyeing Brad with curiosity.
Marie found her husband, Bill, among the guests, and he too gave Brad a big smile, shaking his hand vigorously. David realised Brad was onto something with the superiority complex: both Bill and Marie were just a little too nice, a little too loud, drawing the attention of the other guests as they talked about how great it was to see them, how lovely the expensive wine David had brought as a present was. Brad had picked it out, naturally; selected it specifically because it was fancy, but not too fancy. Showed everyone David had money, but wasn’t bragging about it. It’s the little things, he’d said, that would give him the edge.
David had trouble worrying about those little things at the moment, to be honest, and so he let Brad take the lead on chatting up Marie and Bill and the others that had gathered around them. He was far too busy scanning the backyard for a particular person.
Marie caught on quickly. She always had an annoying eye for these things.
“She’s not here yet,” she said, leaning in a bit and keeping her voice low. “It’s going to be okay, though, you and her? I’m not gonna have to shield you from her all night?”
David laughed nervously. “No, no! No, it’ll be fine. It’s just—I haven’t seen her in a while, and she doesn’t—she doesn’t know about…”
“Your new relationship.”
“Yeah, or the fact that I… like men,” he said, whispering the last part as if he wasn’t currently standing next to the man he was supposedly dating.
“Don’t worry, David,” Marie said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “if she or anyone else has a problem with you dating a man”—her voice was getting louder again—“then he or she will have to deal with me and Bill”—she reached out for her husband, who nodded gravely—“and we will ask them to leave”—more people were turning around to listen to her impromptu speech—“because we do not tolerate hate in this house!”
A couple of people murmured their agreement, one man even seemed to be about to applaud Marie, though he thought better of it at the last second. David wanted to disappear into the ground.
“That’s… very kind of you, Marie,” Brad said. Anyone who knew him even a little bit would have seen that the smile on Brad’s lips was one of derision and contempt, not gratitude, but Marie just beamed with pride. He really had her wound around his finger already, which David supposed was good for their ruse. Made his skin crawl a little, though.
Thankfully, the doorbell rang, saving him from Marie’s attention. Bill, too, turned back to the people he was talking to before, leaving Brad and David to blend in with the rest of the guests.
A couple of people came up to David to say hi. He was sure it was more out of curiosity about Brad than a sincere wish to reconnect, since he’d not spoken to most of them since the divorce. Still, he thought, it was better than being ignored entirely, and Brad made it all go smoothly. He was really good at this, David observed, charming the others effortlessly with warm smiles and semi-truthful anecdotes about work that put David in a much better light than he probably deserved. It wasn’t all that surprising; Brad’s line of work often had him schmoozing with all sorts of people to strike deals and lure in investors. Still, it was odd to see it in person, when he was so used to Brad’s normal cold, calculating persona at the office. He had to remind himself that that was who Brad really was, that he shouldn’t get caught up in the deception himself, shouldn’t get so comfortable with those small touches and kind words.
He’d just missed this, was all. He’d just been alone for long enough that he was ready to throw himself at anyone who showed even the slightest bit of affection, begging for any crumb of intimacy he could get. Even if it was fake.
His therapist was gonna have a field day with this.
Brad elbowed him in the side. “That’s her, isn’t it?”
He felt his heart drop. There, in the doorway to the garden, stood his wife. Ex-wife. She looked radiant; her slender body clad in a red dress that was simple, but looked like a million dollars on her. He could see her brown eyes sparkle even from afar as she laughed at something Marie said, pushing her shiny, raven hair back with an elegant gesture. And that smile. He’d missed that smile, missed how it lit up a room and made his heart soar—oh god, he was having feelings. He was having real, painful feelings just from seeing her. He tore his eyes away to look at the man that had come in with her, but that didn’t make it much better. He’d seen him before, once, and he’d almost forgotten how uncannily perfect this guy was, with his strong jaw and chiselled cheekbones and slim yet sturdy frame. David suddenly felt very underdressed in his flannel, compared to the casual chic outfit of the other man. What was that, Gucci? Armani? Some other brand he didn’t know about because he didn’t know shit about fashion? Is that why she’d left him, because he wouldn’t know style if it punched him in the face? Oh god, he was gonna look like a wet rag compared to her boyfriend. A used, dirty, soggy, crumpled up dishrag.
“You okay, D-man?” Brad’s voice seemed to come from far away. “You’re looking a bit pale.”
“I should have worn a blazer,” David whimpered.
Brad said something in response, but he didn’t even hear it. To his horror, his wife’s gaze skimmed the crowd and then came to rest, unmistakably, on him. Their eyes locked. David’s breath caught in his throat. He saw her eyes flicker to Brad, a small frown forming on her perfect face. Oh god. Oh god. He’d made a horrible mistake. He was going to die.
“Hey, David? Dave, come back to me, man.” Brad moved in front of him, finally blocking the view of his wife (ex-wife! Ex-wife!), and he found himself able to breathe again. There was an unexpected, gentle pressure on his arm: Brad’s hand, rubbing small, soothing circles through the fabric of his (bland, pedestrian!) flannel blouse.
“I’m here,” David managed to croak, “I’m—I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you’re obviously not,” Brad said, faintly amused. “Jesus Christ, dude. This is gonna be harder than I thought, if you’re going catatonic at the sight of her.”
“No, it’s…” He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat. “It’s fine, really. I’ll be fine. I am fine. Oh god, I’m not fine, I’m gonna puke, why did I think this was a good idea?!”
“Okay, just calm down,” Brad said, grabbing him by the shoulders, “let’s get you a drink, alright?”
He steered him to a table with an assortment of alcoholic drinks, pouring him a glass of something as David nervously tried to find his ex in the crowd again. She was at the back of the garden with Marie, who was laughing heartily at something his ex’s boyfriend had said. Of course, he was funny and charming. So much for Marie being on his side. She was probably already enchanted by his stupid cheekbones and his stupid smile and his stupid, perfectly tailored blazer.
Brad pushed a glass into his hand. “Come on, drink.”
He took a swig, wincing as the liquid burnt his throat. “Oh, that’s strong.”
“Yeah, that’s the point,” Brad said, pouring himself something. “Stop looking at her. Hey, look at me.”
David finally tore his eyes away to look at Brad, whose face was a mixture of concern and amusement.
“I don’t think I can do this,” David said. Brad rolled his eyes.
“You’re making this far bigger than it has to be. All you have to do is say hello to her and introduce me. I can take it from there. It’ll be easy, you’ll see. Just stay cool.”
“Okay…” David said, though he was far from convinced. How the fuck was he supposed to introduce Brad, as his boyfriend, and stay cool? Having a whole conversation with his ex and her handsome partner was bad enough, but doing that and having Brad there, as his boyfriend?
He poured himself another drink and downed it in one. He should’ve gone alone and been miserable and sad in a corner somewhere. At least that was familiar territory.
“I think she’s coming over—no, don’t look,” Brad said. It took everything in David’s willpower to keep his eyes on Brad. There was a smile tugging at Brad’s lips that he didn’t like. Seemed too much like the smile he got on his face whenever he was concocting devious schemes at the office.
What the fuck had he gotten himself into?
“David, hi!”
He nearly jumped at her voice, a jolt of fear shooting through him. He tried to turn to her in a way that seemed casual, and less like a deer in the headlights. It probably wasn’t working.
“Oh, hey, Naomi.” His voice was undeniably a little shaky, but he somehow managed to force a smile onto his face. God, she looked even better up close. And so did her stupid boyfriend.
“How have you been?” she asked. Her voice was friendly, but there was that ever-present underlying hint of pity he’d grown so accustomed to over the years. He hated it. Pity was so much worse than anger. Pity meant he wasn’t even worth getting upset over.
“Great, yeah, good,” he responded. He just had to get through this. Just a normal conversation. “How about you?”
“Oh, I’ve been great,” Naomi said, smiling. “You remember Tom?” She gestured at the man next to her, who promptly stook out his hand.
“Great to see you again, David.”
“Of course I remember my ex’s boyfriend,” David said through slightly gritted teeth. They shook hands, David having to suppress a grimace at the other man’s tight grip.
“Fiancé now, actually,” Tom said cheerily. Naomi wiggled her fingers, drawing his attention to the large ring she was wearing.
He felt his heart drop. “Oh. That’s—wow, congratulations.” Son of a bitch. He didn’t have much time to process this, however, because he saw Naomi looking at Brad quizzically. Oh boy. Well, this was it. Showtime.
“Ah, Naomi, Tom, this is Brad,” he said, nervously putting a hand on Brad’s shoulder. “He’s, uh—well, he’s my—we’re—we’re dating,” he stammered.
There was a pause. Naomi’s smile was frozen on her face.
“Oh!” she said finally. “Wow, that’s… Yeah. Huh!”
David wondered if he could just leg it.
“That much of a shock, huh,” Brad said.
“No, no, no!” Naomi said hastily. “No, it’s just… well, it’s a bit of a surprise, I suppose.”
Something had happened, David realised. Something had shifted. She was thrown off her game.
“Hm,” Brad said. Oh. Oh, it felt good when one of his sceptical ‘hm’s was directed at someone else.
“But it’s great!” Naomi continued. “No, it’s—that’s great. That’s lovely.” She frowned. “Wait, Brad as in, Brad from Monetization?”
David felt his blood run cold, suddenly vividly remembering every time he’d complained about Brad to her. To be honest, he’d always suspected she tuned him out when he talked about work, but apparently she’d been paying more attention than he thought. Which would have been good news, under different circumstances.
“The very one,” Brad said. “I’m guessing David has mentioned me before, when you were together.”
“He may have, on occasion.”
“And I’m guessing he didn’t have much good to say.”
“The word ‘sociopath’ may have been used several times,” Naomi said. David winced.
“Now, look, I may have exaggerated—” he started, but Brad cut him off, putting a calming hand on David’s arm.
“Hey, we’ve both called each other a lot of things over the years,” he said, giving David a very convincingly sweet smile, “but that’s the past! If anything, it’s good that we got all that vitriol out of the way before we got together.”
“But how did you get together, if you disliked each other so much?” Tom asked.
“Oh, I never disliked David,” Brad said, shrugging. “I thought he was kinda pathetic, maybe, but I never hated him.”
“Thanks, Brad,” David muttered, temporarily forgetting their act. Thankfully, Brad didn’t miss a beat, laughing like they were just engaging in familiar banter, pressing a quick kiss to David’s cheek. He felt his face heat up slightly.
“You’re welcome, babe. But don’t act like you didn’t have a crush on me from the moment we met,” Brad teased.
Naomi frowned. “Well, not for that long, surely.”
Brad turned to look at her. There was a look in his eye that David had seen all too often, the kind of look that came right before a remark that would cut straight through all your defences and lay your deepest insecurities bare.
“No, of course,” he said slowly, smiling, “probably not.”
Naomi shifted under his gaze, uncomfortable. David couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for her.
“Anyway,” Brad continued after a long pause, “I guess we just sort of grew on each other over time.”
“Well, that’s… lovely,” Naomi said. She sounded a little strained. “So how long have you been…?”
“Couple of months,” David said.
“Surprised David’s not gotten down on one knee then,” Naomi joked, though there was a definite sting behind the words. David felt a blush creeping up his face. He’d actually floated the idea of pretending they were engaged, or maybe even doing a proposal at the party. Brad had shut it down immediately, countering that it would be best if their ‘relationship’ wasn’t too far along, so that it made sense that people hadn’t heard about it. Keep it casual, Brad had said, don’t act like it was some epic romance. That shit was for teenagers, this was a Healthy Adult Relationship.
Yeah. He’d never been very good at those.
“We’re just taking it slow,” Brad said, shrugging. “But enough about us, what about you guys? How’d you meet?”
“A friend from work set us up,” Tom said. “We went on one date and, well…” He sighed, wrapping an arm around Naomi, a sickeningly sweet look in his eyes. “It was love at first sight, really.”
David suppressed the urge to gag.
“That’s cute.” Brad’s mouth twitched in a way that suggested he felt just as nauseated. “What kind of work do you do, then?”
“This and that,” Tom said, turning his attention back to Brad. “I’m a consultant, mostly.”
“Tom’s involved with some pretty high-profile charities,” Naomi said, clearly proud.
“Oh, well, that’s more of a passion project,” Tom said. “My actual work is in hedge funds and private equity. But a lot of my clients run charities too, and I’m always happy to lend a hand. I like to make a difference, you know? To give back as much as I can.”
“Private equity,” Brad repeated, “really.”
“Well, I dabble. I aim to have a diverse portfolio. Keeps things exciting,” Tom said, smiling. Then he tilted his head a little. “Say, have we met before tonight? I keep thinking you seem familiar, but I can’t place you…”
Something odd happened. David felt Brad freeze for a moment, saw the fake smile leave his face.
“Not that I’m aware of,” Brad said after a small pause. “But I suppose we run in similar circles. Maybe we’ve seen each other at a conference.”
“Maybe…” Tom said, though he didn’t seem convinced.
“Well,” Naomi said, “it was nice catching up, but there’s some people I wanna say hi to. Maybe we’ll talk later, yeah?”
David felt a weight lifting off his chest as he watched her turn away, taking Tom with her into the crowd. God. He’d survived. He was still standing. He hadn’t even cried once.
“That went better than expected,” he muttered. Brad didn’t respond, just stared off into the distance, where Naomi and Tom were chatting to another couple.
“You okay, Brad?” David asked, a little worried.
“Huh?” Brad snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in. “Yeah, of course. Whatever.” He reached for a bottle, poured himself another drink, downing it in one. “That guy was a douchebag.”
“Who, Tom?” David frowned. “He’s fine. He’s more than fine, actually, he’s perfect. I mean, did you see those teeth? And he says he hasn’t had work done—”
“Right, but you hate him,” Brad interrupted. “He stole your wife.”
“I mean, not really, they didn’t meet until after me and Naomi split up.” David took a good look at Brad. He seemed… on edge, for some reason.
“We could split them up,” Brad said, fidgeting with the glass in his hand, his eyes darting around. “Show her Mr Perfect isn’t so perfect.”
“No, that’s—we’re not doing that, that’s insane,” David said. “Can we just keep doing what we were doing? You telling people nice things about me? That worked fine.”
“I’m not sure she believed us, is all,” Brad said. “We might have to be a bit more aggressive.”
“Jesus, Brad…” David sighed. Clearly Brad hadn’t met his evil quota for the day, or something. He probably should have known it wasn’t gonna be this easy. He’d just prayed that for once Brad would cooperate, but apparently now he had to make sure Brad wasn’t gonna go and murder his ex-wife’s fiancé.
“I gotta take a leak,” he muttered, partly because it was true, and partly because he needed a moment alone to reassess the situation. Fucking hell.
Okay, so, they were about halfway through the evening and the score so far was: Marie and Bill were hopefully still on their side, a bunch of people at the party had heard fake anecdotes about David being the best boss of all time, and his ex-wife possibly believed he was dating his hot former nemesis, but she might also not believe it at all. And Brad was hatching a plan to eliminate Tom, for some reason. He didn’t know why Brad disliked Tom that much. He was fine! He was handsome, successful, did a lot for charity… Maybe that was it, maybe Brad just hated anyone who did nice things. It wouldn’t surprise him.
Brad was waiting in the hallway when he got out of the bathroom, leaning against the wall, his arms folded.
“I think I know how to drive a wedge between them,” he said, smiling sinisterly. Great. He was in scheming mode.
“Brad, I don’t want to break them up,” David sighed, wiping his still slightly damp hands on his trousers.
“Come on, sure you do. You really wanna just stand there and watch that creep run off with your wife?”
“Ex- wife. And it’s her decision. I don’t want to stand in the way of her happiness.”
“Oh, please.”
“I mean it! I care about her, Brad! I know that’s a hard concept for you to grasp, but I still want her to be happy, even if she’s not my wife anymore.”
“And you think she’s gonna be happy with some private equity ghoul?”
David threw up his hands in despair. “I don’t know! They look happy. And seriously—what is your beef with Tom? He seems like a perfectly decent guy to me.”
Brad’s lips twisted into a tight line. “I know his type. There’s nothing behind those perfect smiles. All they care about is money.”
“Sounds like someone I know,” David bit back.
Brad stared him down, his face an emotionless mask. David shifted, uncomfortable. Somehow, he felt like he’d actually struck a nerve. A little crack in the impenetrable armour Brad had carefully constructed around himself.
“This was a mistake,” David said, averting his eyes from Brad’s piercing gaze.
“Yeah, well, why’d you invite me then, if you just want your ex to be happy?” Brad said. “What’s the point in showing up with a boyfriend if it’s not for her?”
“It is for her! Of course it’s for her!” David yelped, aware his voice was getting a little shrill. “I know I’m not gonna get her back, but I care what she thinks about me. I care what everyone here thinks of me! Sorry! Sorry for needing people to like me all the time! Sorry I can’t be cool and detached like you!”
There was a long pause. David could only hope he hadn’t shouted loud enough for other people to hear. Then again, a fight might help sell their act. Maybe they should go even further. Maybe if they had a dramatic break-up, everyone would feel sorry for him. That had certainly been the case after his divorce. Just an endless parade of people telling him what a shame it was that he’d lost a woman like Naomi. The implication that came with it, that he’d been lucky to have her in the first place. That he’d never find anyone like her again. That he didn’t really deserve that.
He was so tired of people feeling sorry for him.
“Maybe we should leave,” he sighed.
Brad seemed like he was about to say something, but then he saw his eyes flicker to a point over David’s shoulder and instead, he wordlessly pulled David into a kiss.
Huh.
David froze for a second. This was new. Fights with his ex usually ended in slammed doors and lonely nights spent on the couch. But this was a weird night, and he’d probably had a bit too much to drink, and he was angry and frustrated and sad and who was he to pass up an opportunity to make out with a hot guy some more, really? When was he gonna get the chance to do something like this again?
Maybe never.
So, yeah, fuck it, he kissed Brad back. He grabbed Brad’s face and Brad grabbed his hips and pushed him against the wall and there was suddenly a lot of pressure in the right places and he felt a kind of heat and excitement he hadn’t felt in years, because it was wrong, and stupid, and impulsive, and all the things boring David Brittlesbee usually wasn’t, but so desperately wanted to be.
And then there was a gasp and a familiar voice that said, “Oh, Jesus—sorry!”
They broke apart instantly, David practically throwing Brad off of him, only to see his ex-wife staring at them like a deer in the headlights.
“Sorry, I didn’t see—”
“I am so sorry, we shouldn’t have—”
“No, but, I should have—”
“We didn’t mean to—”
“David,” Brad interrupted both their rambling, sounding very amused, “maybe you should step aside and let her go to the bathroom.”
David sincerely wished he had the power to disappear into the aether. Blushing furiously, he did the next best thing, grabbing Brad’s arm and pulling him past Naomi and back into Marie and Bill’s spacious kitchen. Thankfully everyone else was still in the garden, giving David room to slide down a cabinet and onto the floor, burying his head in his hands in despair.
“You did that on purpose!” he hissed at Brad, who was leaning against the kitchen island, a wide grin on his face.
“I may have spotted her walking our way,” Brad said. “Figured it might help sell it. Or did you want all of our practice to go to waste?”
“You practically had your hands down my pants!”
Brad shrugged. “You weren’t complaining until she walked in.”
“You fucking asshole,” David groaned. “You absolute piece of shit… I’m never gonna be able to face her ever again.”
“I think you should, though,” Brad said. “You gotta stick the landing on this. Show her that you’ve moved on so much that you can just casually talk to each other about your new partner, like it’s no big deal.”
“That’s—okay, that does make some sense…”
“And then I can work on Tom.”
“No, hold on—” David started, scrambling to get back up on his feet, but Brad shushed him.
“I think I heard the toilet flush, so you should get ready.”
“No, Brad—”
“You can do this, D-man.” Brad gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder and walked back out into the garden.
“Son of a—” David began, but then the door separating the hallway and the kitchen opened, and he swivelled around to stand face to face with his ex.
There was an uncomfortably long pause.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Another beat. David felt his discomfort rise to dangerous levels.
“Look, I’m sorry about—” he started, but Naomi waved it away.
“No, no, it’s fine. You’ve got the right to make out with your boyfriend,” she said, laughing a little awkwardly. “I mean, maybe don’t do it right by the bathroom, but…”
“Yeah, that was—that wasn’t our best moment.”
“Yeah.” She shifted a little, folding her arms across her chest. Then, she looked at him, really looked at him. “God. You’re really dating that guy, huh?”
He let out a nervous little laugh. “Well, yeah.”
“I thought—this is stupid, but for a moment I thought—I thought maybe you were faking it? Like, to get back at me, or something? But that would be a wild thing to do.”
David felt his heart drop to the floor. “Ha. Yeah. Yeah, that’d be—that’d be something.”
“It would be a pretty elaborate con,” Naomi laughed. “And pretty pathetic.”
David’s throat was drier than a desert. “Yeah, it’d be real—real sad if I did that.”
“Deeply sad! Like, even for your standards—no offence.”
“None taken.”
“But really, I don’t think you can blame me for having my doubts, I mean, that guy is way out of your league! No offence, again.”
“No, sure. That’s fair.”
“But then so was I, I guess.”
The forced smile was starting to hurt his face. “True.”
“It was just a surprise, you know. Seeing you with someone like that. Didn’t think that was your type.”
He had to turn this conversation around somehow. Get out of the humiliation feedback loop. What would Brad do?
“A man, you mean.” The homophobia card. He hadn’t really wanted to use it, but he was in dire straits.
“Well, no, I…” Success: she faltered. “I mean, I suppose—”
“You didn’t think someone like me could be bisexual?”
“That’s not what I—”
“It’s not all hip teenagers, you know. Some of us are just… regular, tax-paying adults.”
“Sure, sure,” she said hastily, “I never meant—it’s just, you never told me.”
“I didn’t know until recently.” The truth, at least, even if it was a lot more recent than he’d like her to believe.
“Right, but you didn’t even tell me you were in a new relationship…”
“Why should I?” David said, actually getting a little angry now, his voice getting shrill. “Just because you paraded your new boyfriend in front of me the moment you got together doesn’t mean I have to.”
“I didn’t parade him in front of you.”
“Oh sure, you just invited me over to the world’s most awkward dinner and spent the entire time making googly-eyes at him and telling me how he was the best man you’ve ever met!”
“Excuse me for trying to be an adult and have a healthy relationship with my ex—”
“Well, maybe I don’t want to have a healthy relationship with you!” David shrieked. He was getting hysterical, sure, but he was tired. This whole thing had been a massive mistake. He should have stayed home and wallowed in misery on his own, rather than getting himself entangled in this piece of performance theatre. He’d always been bad at improv.
Naomi stared at him, a little shocked. She should have been used to this by now, though. Wasn’t that one of the many reasons she’d left him? Because he was an overly emotional, overly sensitive wreck of a man? Whatever. Whatever! He’d just go and have a cry about it later, like always.
“Look, I’m glad you’re happy,” he continued, wrangling his voice down to a more acceptable level, “I really am. But I don’t need to see it. I don’t need to be confronted by the fact that some other man can make you happy when I couldn’t, okay? I want to just—I don’t know, I just want to forget about it all and—and move on. Can we move on? Can we stop doing this ‘keeping in contact with your ex to prove you’re a responsible adult’ thing and just block each other’s numbers and never speak again? Surely that would be a relief for you.”
A heavy silence fell.
Finally, she said, “If that’s really what you want.”
He wasn’t even sure. Maybe that was the worst part; that he’d finally stood up for himself in some way, and yet he knew he’d be pining for her again tomorrow. Still, he nodded.
“Okay,” she said. And then she smiled. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you found someone.”
He’d been wrong. That was the worst part.
They had to leave, there was no question about that. If he had to spend one more minute at this party, pretending like he was in a happy relationship, he would actually jump into a stone quarry. He offered his apologies to Bill and Marie, who seemed quite disappointed, asking him in hushed tones if Naomi had upset him. They must have heard his outburst, then, which wasn’t surprising, if a little embarrassing. He assured them it wasn’t a big deal, but that it would be best for everyone if Brad and him left immediately, which was true at least.
He found Brad skulking in a corner, nursing a drink. He looked up as David approached, a small smile on his lips.
“Talk didn’t go so hot, I gather?”
“Were you listening in?”
“Didn’t have to,” Brad said, shrugging. “I think everyone here could follow it quite clearly.”
“Great,” David muttered, “awesome. We have to leave.”
“Yeah,” Brad agreed, surprising David. “Fun’s run its course.”
“Tom’s still alive, then?” David asked, looking around to see Tom and Naomi talking together on one of the patio couches. He felt a sting in his heart as Naomi smiled at something Tom said, her hand softly stroking his. Yeah, he really had to leave.
“Hm,” Brad said, by way of an answer. “Doesn’t matter.”
He seemed on edge again, but David didn’t feel like prodding him. It wasn’t like he was gonna get anything out of him anyway. He just grabbed him by the arm and started dragging Brad with him, out of the garden and through the house, away from it all, into the quiet of the suburbs.
“I’ll call us an Uber,” he said, taking out his phone as they walked down the driveway. And then Brad uttered the words that would seal this night of mistakes with the final, biggest mistake:
“Your place or mine?”
Brad’s place was closer.
That was the main reason they went to his place. David tried not to think of the other reasons: that some part of him was scared to take Brad to his condo, because that made it more real, because then the memories of his wife would intermingle with the memories of Brad he was yet to make, that he wasn’t sure he wanted to make. Brad’s place felt like more of a neutral zone, and not just because his house was eerily bereft of any kind of personal items. No photos, no knick knacks or souvenirs, nothing that looked like it might have a history. Just sleek, modern furniture and the occasional bit of tasteful modern art. It was like stepping inside a catalogue. Or at least, until he felt something brush past his legs and heard a soft meow.
“You have a cat?” he asked, baffled. He reached down to stroke the cat, which started purring loudly.
“Why shouldn’t I have a cat?” Brad said as he went into the kitchen and pulled two glasses out of a cupboard. He glanced back at the cat, who was still rubbing itself against David’s legs. “Jiji, what did I tell you about strangers? Don’t be so nice to him.” He rolled his eyes. “You get a black cat because you think she’ll be mysterious and aloof, and then she turns out to be a cuddle monster.”
“‘Jiji’?”
“Yeah, like the cat in—” Brad stopped himself. “It’s from a movie. Red or white?”
“Huh?”
“Wine. Unless you’d prefer something stronger.”
They went with a red wine, even if it made David nervous that he’d somehow spill it all over Brad’s expensive-looking light grey couch. His hands shook a little as he took cautious sips. His brain kept repeating a vision of blood red liquid dripping off the couch, pooling on the polished hardwood floor. Not that he thought Brad was going to kill him or anything. It was just an anxiety in the air; a feeling that he was walking into a trap, or making a deal with the devil. Of course, he’d long since gone past that point, had leapt over it the moment he kissed Brad in his bedroom, aeons ago. If anything he was securing the noose a little tighter around his own throat. It was a bad mistake, but it was a different sort of mistake from the ones he usually made. Felt more exciting. More daring. More interesting.
“What do you think is going to happen?” Brad’s voice was soft, his eyes sparkling.
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.” He gently took the glass from David’s hand, set it down on the coffee table.
“We shouldn’t. It’s not—I’m still your boss.”
He looked at David for a moment, an amused smile on his lips. “But you want to.”
“But what do you want?” David asked, because there was always a catch with Brad, he shouldn’t forget that.
Brad chuckled. “I wanna fuck you, David, I thought that was obvious.”
He couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that, disbelieving. “But that can’t just be it.”
“Why not?” Brad said, shrugging. “What else should there be?”
“I don’t know, like… a debt. You’ll make me, like, owe you something.”
“You already owe me something.”
“The gacha thing, right, but that was for pretending to be my boyfriend…”
“Well, this can be part of it,” Brad said, his hand finding its way to David’s thigh. “Wouldn’t you like that? Don’t you wanna make love to your boyfriend tonight?”
“But wh—” His words got caught in a groan as Brad’s hand slid over his erection.
“What do you want me to say, huh?” Brad said, leaning in so close that David had to restrain himself from closing that tiny gap between their mouths. “Do you want me to say that I’m doing this because I secretly like you? That I have feelings for you?” He smiled. “I don’t. But I can pretend. I can say all the right things.” His other hand came up to cradle David’s face, unbearably gentle.
“I love you, David,” he whispered, and David knew it was wrong, he knew Brad was playing with him, he knew this was absolutely fucking pathetic—but he still let out a soft whine at the words, he still involuntarily leaned into him.
“Fuck, Brad, I don’t—” he started, but Brad swallowed his protestations as he crashed his mouth into David’s, and David couldn’t help but kiss him back, eagerly, hungrily.
The rest of it happened faster than he’d imagined. But perhaps his imagination had been too lyrical, too poetic. Too romantic. He’d envisioned some sort of grand revelation, for him to unlock some unknown part of himself. In the end, it was just sex. Good sex, mind you, once he’d gotten past his own nerves. Brad could be nice if he wanted to. Or he could fake it very convincingly, at least. And once they’d cleaned up and David had his pants on again, Brad had given him a sly smile and said, “Not bad.”
Not bad.
He thought of the pity in his ex’s eyes. He thought of her hot fiancé. He thought of all the people he knew who were in healthy, stable relationships with loving partners.
Not bad.
He’d take it.