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Lancelot had been fidgeting with his bracelet ever since he and Leon had left Leon’s flat. Lancelot as good as lived there, and Leon had asked him if he’d like to move in with Leon. Just that morning, Leon had suggested finding a nice two-room flat somewhere in Glasgow where they could live together. Lancelot’s stomach had been so full of butterflies by that point that the only thing he could do was to laugh weakly and hug Leon. Maybe Leon had understood; showing emotion had never been Lancelot’s strongest ability.
They were now riding the bus to Gwen’s place. She lived in a nice studio apartment close to the university where she studied cognitive sciences and teaching – she wanted to become a schoolteacher. In Lancelot’s opinion, she would be perfect for the job. She was so nice and sweet that every child would love her.
Leon placed his hand over Lancelot’s wrist, bringing him back to the present. “The next stop is ours”, he said, “you ready?”
Lancelot nodded. He had been battling anxiety for years, having had his first symptoms around the time he first dated Gwen. It had been her who had realised what Lancelot’s mysterious symptoms meant – most of his anxiety presented itself rather physically. She’d guided him to the public health service, going as far as holding his hand while he waited for his appointment.
Truth to be told, Lancelot owed much to Gwen. He felt eternally thankful for her patience and kindness, which he often felt like he did not deserve.
“I hope we’re not too early”, Lancelot breathed, laughing uncertainly.
“We’re right on time”, Leon assured him, “and I know Gwen won’t mind if we’re too early. She’s nice like that.”
Getting off the bus, Lancelot held Leon’s hand as they made their way to Gwen’s place. She’d promised to make some late lunch for the three of them, and Lancelot had made some American-style cookies with Leon the previous night. It would be a nice lunch with Lancelot’s two favourite people by his side.
Soon they were at Gwen’s building, and Leon pressed the doorbell. She let them in, using the building’s electric lock system, and they rushed to the third floor she lived on. She had left the door open, as she was still in the middle of cooking the pasta that she had decided to make for lunch. The scent of the herbs she used in her cooking filled Lancelot’s mind, making him smile. Gwen had a peculiar way of cooking, which Lancelot loved dearly. No one knew how to cook quite as well as she did.
“Hi there!” Leon called, waving his hand at Gwen. “We made some cookies last night for dessert. Is that okay?”
Gwen smiled. “That’s lovely”, she said, “I hadn’t even thought of dessert. Thank you.”
Lancelot closed the door and gave Gwen a little wave of his hand. He only let go of Leon’s hand as they took off their coats and shoes and made their way inside to greet Gwen properly. She was almost done with the cooking as she hugged them – her boys, as she had dubbed the two in their little group chat.
“So nice to see you two again”, she said, squeezing their shoulders before she let go of them, “lately, you’ve only hung with each other and I’ve missed you. We should make these weekend lunches a regular thing!”
“Oh, I’d like that”, Leon said, smiling, “what about you, Lance?”
Lancelot nodded eagerly. “It would be nice”, he breathed, “I’d like to meet up more often.”
Smiling, Gwen turned around to check the pasta, which seemed to satisfy her. She turned off the stove and poured the cooking water and farfalle out of the kettle and into the strainer to separate them. She then moved the farfalle into a bowl and handed it over to Leon before bringing the pasta sauce to the dining table. Lancelot followed them, not quite knowing what else to do. Gwen quickly fetched the pitcher and filled it with water before returning to her friends.
“Well, help yourself”, Gwen said, “would you like any water?”
Lancelot nodded again, and Gwen filled his glass with water. Then she did the same for Leon, and finally filled her own glass. Leon served himself some of the pasta and the sauce and then passed them over to Lancelot. Finally, when Gwen also had some lunch on her plate, they begun to eat.
“So”, Gwen asked, “how are things going with you two?”
Leon blushed. “Things are great”, he explained, smiling, “just this morning we were thinking about finding a nice flat for the two of us. It might be a bit early for that, though. We’ve just been together for, what, a couple of months?”
“I wouldn’t mind”, Lancelot said softly, “the thought made me happy.”
Gwen smiled that knowing smile of hers. Just by taking one look, Lancelot knew that Gwen was genuinely happy for him, which in turn reanimated the stomach butterflies that had calmed somewhat after the morning.
Around the time Lancelot and Gwen had dated for two months, Lancelot had had a terrifying realisation. Somehow, he’d understood that he wasn’t straight after all. Lancelot had grown up in a family where his parents – unknowingly, perhaps – had told their children that they were all expected to marry and have a large family much like their own. Lancelot, who had already been vulnerable, had shut down all the feelings that deviated from the norm that his family wanted him to uphold.
Gwen had been amazingly supportive when Lancelot had come out to her. It had been an evening full of tears and apologies; Lancelot had blamed himself for wasting Gwen’s time when she could have been with a better man than Lancelot. She hadn’t accepted such insults, even though it was Lancelot insulting himself. Instead, she had thanked him for his honestly and held him close until he had calmed down. She’d assured him that it was in no way his fault and that finding one’s true self was a never-ending journey with which she’d be happy to help him instead of shunning him for being gay.
“I can help you two with the moving, if you need me to”, she told them, “my father has an old van that I could borrow. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. In fact, he’d probably try to help with the move as well!”
Leon laughed. “Knowing your father, he definitely would. How’s Elyan these days?”
“Still working at the old smithy”, Gwen said, “he has a real passion to our father’s trade. Ma is afraid that he will burn himself one day, working so close to flame. I think he’s inherited our father’s thick skin, unlike me.”
“He sure has”, Leon agreed, sipping some of his water. “And you? How is the university treating you?”
“It’s treating me well”, Gwen said, blushing a little, “in fact, I have a date on Monday night. I met this bloke called Arthur in the library this week and he asked me out.”
“That’s wonderful”, Lancelot breathed, “will you introduce us to him if you decide to get together?”
Gwen grinned. “Absolutely. You, my boys, will be the first to meet him if I like him enough.”
Laughing, Lancelot returned to his lunch. He had been listening so intently to Gwen and Leon’s talking that he’d forgotten to eat at the same time. It was another thing that made him different from the others, not being able to focus on multiple things sometimes. Maybe it was a part of his anxiety, who knew?
When they were done eating, Leon got up to do the dishes. Using the pretext of having done nothing for the lunch – since Lancelot had baked the cookies, really – he withdrew into the kitchen, allowing Gwen and Lancelot some time alone with each other. They sat on the sofa, relaxing.
“So”, Gwen said, “you’ve been happy with Leon, have you?”
Lancelot nodded. “Yes. To be honest, sometimes I’m surprised at how happy I feel. Like I’m so happy that I would burst if human beings did that. Then I get sad because I couldn’t give that to you.”
“Hey”, Gwen said, frowning, “remember what we promised? No more blaming yourself. What you and I had will always be some of my fondest memories, but it is not your fault that you had not realised you’re gay. You’re still one of my best friends and I’ll remember our two months with great pride for having gotten to be with you. Okay?”
Smiling, Lancelot wiped his eyes. Gwen had the ability to make any grown man cry with her honesty, which had been one of the traits that attracted Lancelot to her in the first place. She did not beat around the bush and neither was she afraid of telling people she loved about her feelings. As she was honest to a fault, Lancelot was certain he’d never witnessed her lying to anyone. Not that she wasn’t capable of doing so – she just decided against it.
“Okay”, Lancelot whispered, “I won’t blame myself for it. I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you what you deserved.”
Gwen shook her head. “No, no, no. You made me happy! That’s all I care about. The expectation that I’d deserve anything more can go suck it.”
To emphasise her words, Gwen grabbed Lancelot’s hands and squeezed them. She looked deep into his eyes, as if to make the words sink in. She would not let Lancelot beat himself over the past.
Leon chose that moment to exit the kitchen and sit next to Lancelot. He wrapped his arms around Lancelot’s waist, pulling him close, and kissed Lancelot’s cheek. Lancelot gave him a small, melancholy smile and leaned closer to Leon.
“Didn’t you have any cookies yet?” Leon asked, sounding surprised. “Try them, Gwen. Lance’s chocolate chip cookies are heavenly. He had to hide them last night so I wouldn’t eat all of them.”
Lancelot laughed softly. He wasn’t used to praise, but the way Leon worded the ones he gave made something in Lancelot’s heart feel warm and fuzzy. The way Leon spoke of the ordinary things he and Lancelot did made Lancelot wish he could spend an eternity with Leon.
Because with Leon, Lancelot felt like he could face the world and say that he was proud of himself.
“Ugh, you two are so sweet together”, Gwen said, “I knew I was right to introduce you two to each other. Let me take a photo of you?”
“Sure”, Leon said, grinning at Gwen. She snapped a few photos on her phone until she was happy with at least one of them. She then proceeded to share the best photos to Lancelot and Leon in their little group chat
Lancelot leaned even closer to Leon. He had been right – he was happy when surrounded by his two favourite people in the world.