‘It’s our first visit to London. I wanted it to be special.’ Jonathan was about to reach over and squeeze Leon’s hand but the waiter came to take their order.
It was almost 11.30 when they stepped outside onto the Fulham Road, and Jonathan yawned in spite of himself. The night air was just what he needed after the brandy, which had made him feel lethargic. ‘Hey there, stop yawning, we’ve a full night ahead of us,’ Leon giggled, stepping into the road and hailing a taxi.
‘Sure we can walk back to the hotel? It will clear our heads,’ Jonathan said, surprised, as a black cab drew to a halt beside them.
‘The hotel! No, bro, we’re goin’ clubbin’.’ Leon slid open the door and jumped into the cab.
Jonathan’s heart sank. Clubbing had not been on his agenda.
‘Heaven, Villiers Street, Charing Cross, please,’ Leon instructed the taxi driver. ‘Or do you want to go to Trade or The Fridge?’ he asked Jonathan as he climbed in beside him.
‘Heaven’s fine,’ Jonathan said, trying to appear enthusiastic. He hadn’t come to London to go to world-renowned gay nightclubs. Not this time. He wanted to spend time with Leon, to get to know him better, to become a real couple, not just a pair of gay men on a trip to a European capital. Leon held his hand and chatted animatedly as the cab pulled out into the traffic and Jonathan realized that the brandy had gone to his companion’s head. He shouldn’t have suggested it. They’d already had pre-dinner cocktails and a bottle of wine during their meal.
‘I’d love to have seen Madge and Cyndi Lauper performing here,’ Leon remarked a while later as they queued to gain entrance to the club. ‘Let’s see, tonight it’s Rich B, and Miss Kimberly. It’s Wednesday night, The Fruit Machine, Yay!’ he exclaimed enthusiastically, kissing him as they waited in the snaking line of the queue. Eventually security people waved them in. ‘Time for another drink. You grab us a seat and I’ll get them.’ Leon edged his way through the crowd at the bar and came back with four shots, two of which he gave to Jonathan. ‘There ya go, dude, slainte!’ He raised one of his glasses and knocked it back before plonking down on the sofa beside him. ‘This is a beaut of a club,’ he said happily, gazing around him.
‘Bro, you can say that again,’ a young American sitting beside him agreed. Without a moment’s hesitation Leon leaned over and snogged him. Jonathan nearly fell off the sofa in shock. What the hell was going on? Was Leon behaving like this because he was plastered? Didn’t he realize how disrespectful his behaviour was to Jonathan? ‘I’m gonna hit the floor,’ Leon grinned, winking at Jonathan. ‘First score to me!’ His eyes were bright with anticipation and alcohol and moments later he was swallowed into the heaving mass of bodies that were bopping in the dark psychedelic light to the loud thumping music.
If he had been in the form for it, Jonathan would have lost no time in following Leon onto the dance floor. He loved dancing but right now he felt gutted. He had hoped to be back in their beautifully appointed room with the big four-poster bed. Instead he was watching his companion kissing other men with not a care in the world, or a worry how Jonathan might feel.
He’s younger than you. He doesn’t get the chance to travel much. He doesn’t get to be free to be gay. He hasn’t come out at home yet! Jonathan silently made excuses for the other man as he finished his second shot, ignoring a come-hither look from a skinny, brown-eyed, sallow-skinned man who raised his glass at him. Jonathan nodded politely and turned away. He needed to go to the loo before he started dancing.
Finally Jonathan made his way onto the dance floor looking for Leon’s distinctive silk purple shirt. He saw him bopping exuberantly in a group on the far side of the floor, and felt a wave of relief. Maybe kissing that guy on the sofa was a one-off! Spur of the moment stuff with the excitement of being in London in Heaven. Jonathan smiled at his friend’s joie de vivre as he jived and shimmied uninhibitedly. Stop acting like an auld fella, he chided himself as a surge of sweaty, testosterone-filled bodies made him lose sight of Leon. He circled around the edge of the undulating multitude. And then, his stomach gave a sickening lurch as a gap in the swaying mass gave him a glimpse of Leon in a deep, lusty, open-mouthed kiss with a very camp blond young man whom Jonathan judged to be in his early twenties.
He felt as though he’d been punched in the gut, hard. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His heart lurched before starting to race and a dreadful sense of apprehension enveloped him. Don’t say he’d made the same mistake with Leon as he had with the others. Don’t say he’d made a fool of himself again.
‘Hey, what’s going on?’ He almost had to shout over the din as he reached the embracing couple.
‘Meet Günter,’ Leon yelled, dropping an arm around the young man and grinning broadly. ‘I’ve pulled already. I love this place. Get out on the floor, dude, and shake your booty.’
‘I don’t want to pull.’ Jonathan stood in front of Leon, shocked to his core.
‘But that’s what we came to London for, nothing else.’ Leon couldn’t meet his eye.
‘I thought we came to be together.’ Jonathan stared at him, hardly able to comprehend what Leon had just said.
‘Aw come on, man, don’t ruin my buzz. I thought we were just friends. I’m sorry if you’re into me, but I
