The air in the room seemed to thicken as Andy became much more serious. His tone altered and his eyes lowered. These late-night sessions of politics and philosophy had become the norm since Mark had gratefully accepted the offer of the spare room six weeks earlier. He was between relationships (again) and couldn't face moving back in with his parents for a third time.
The music and red wine was usually free-flowing at these times and Mark had become much closer to Andy as the weeks passed by. They had always been good friends and enjoyed many of the same things. Important stuff like Belle & Sebastian and Celtic Football Club for example. The right clothes and the coolest clubs were an instinct they shared without question, and the occasional small white pill to facilitate a night of unselfconscious moves on the dance floor only helped to cement the bond.
Mark stopped making the roach and looked up from the coffee table. Andy was trying to explain something but seemed to be having difficulty. It wasn’t unusual for one, or both, of them to lose their train of thought at times like this but that was normally as a result of lack of sleep, alcohol or something recreational.
“A person’s sexuality…
Not always straightforward…
Some blokes can even be married with kids but realise that they aren’t happy after years and years…”
Mark waited for Andy to continue. The needle clicked repeatedly, stuck at the end of the vinyl.
No words were said, eyes met and the gaze was held…
The doorbell rang, Andy jumped to his feet. The friends snapped back to their default setting.
“That’ll be our pizza,” he said, “champion.”
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