A Note in the Margin

John watched Jamie come through the front door of the store and had all his excuses ready, ranging from 'Man, we were so drunk last night' to.... Actually, that was his only excuse other than admitting that he'd been lonely. As Jamie approached, John cleared his throat and said gruffly, "Morning, Jamie."

Jamie just looked at him with a grin and replied, "Good morning, John." When he thought John had squirmed enough he laughed. "It's okay. I know it was just a fun night and nothing more. My arse is sore but I'm not going to pine away until you swear your undying love for me."

John definitely looked relieved but had to ask, "It was just your comment before I left.... I wasn't sure?"

"Oh fuck, John. I didn't mean me. I may look it, but I'm not that naive," Jamie exclaimed, slapping John across the shoulder. "Although I do think you're missing a lot of... of... I don't know, stuff, the way you live."

"Oh yeah, much clearer now, Jamie." John smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh shit. Um... okay, I'll tell you why the name of the store is Margins; that might help, yeah?"

John folded his arms and leaned back against the counter waiting for Jamie to tell his little story.

"I remember when I was little I got really upset about something - can't remember what now - but my dad asked me if Mum had ever told me why they called the store Margins. I said she hadn't and...."

"Get to the point, Jamie," John sighed.

"Anyway, he explained that the most important things aren't always in the main story; sometimes the real meaning is scribbled in the margins. You know, when you pick up a secondhand book and people have written stuff in it. Um, read what other people think is important. Maybe they underline a sentence or just a word. Sometimes it has nothing to do with the story but how they feel at the time." Jamie frowned because he could see John was not getting his point. "All I'm saying is that there is more to life than the main story. Check out the notes in the margins because maybe they're even more important."

"So tell me, what scribbles are important here, Jamie?" John asked sarcastically.

"Oh, I don't know." Jamie shrugged, frustrated but not defeated. "Um, okay. Look how you are so caught up with profits and meeting deadlines, yeah... and then you meet someone like David. He's not part of your story, but he means something. He might be important."

"Oh, that is total shite, Jamie," John grumbled, his good mood starting to slip. "Go and put the kettle on. You're making my head thump."

John fished in his pocket for his headache pills while Jamie's words replayed themselves. And then you meet someone like David. He's not part of your story, but he means something. He lay the pills on the counter ready for his tea and mumbled, "How the fuck could someone like David mean anything?"

Jamie had touched a nerve and John knew it.



Between accounts and customers John managed to shrug off the mood Jamie had put him in with his story and was chatting happily to a young female customer when David entered the store. He faltered slightly in his sentence at their brief eye contact. David gave a small smile and nodded hello. John nodded back, but David had already looked away. John felt a twinge of guilt and wasn't sure if it was sparked by his previous dismissal of David's importance or the fact he'd fucked Jamie.

The numbers in his inventory book had started to swim when John heard Jamie's laugh and he slammed the accounts book shut. Stalking through the store toward the second-hand section, John growled at Jamie, "Are you doing any work today?"

But as usual Jamie took John's mood in stride and grinned. "Oh come on, John. It's a half-day today and we're closing soon. I was just telling Dave that we're moving you into Mum's place this afternoon and that you couldn't put up with the 'little old lady' furniture."

John relaxed a little; his evening with Jamie had not been the topic of conversation. "Give me a break, Jamie. You moved out," he said, making sure to keep his gaze away from David.

Jamie laughed, slid his arm in David's, and asked, "Come on, Dave. Wanna give us a hand moving John's stuff upstairs? I'll make him buy us dinner."

David looked briefly at John, not sure how the suggestion would go down with the dour man watching them, but when Jamie gave his arm a tug he shrugged and said, "Yeah... okay."



Moving a selection of John's possessions took most of the afternoon. By early evening only a few boxes of clothes and peripheral items remained in their neatly printed cardboard boxes stacked near their final destinations. Looking at their progress John had to admit that although he'd initially been reluctant to let David help he'd worked hard and done the majority of the manual work. Finally John called a halt and sent Jamie for beer and takeout.

With nothing left to do, David stood uncomfortably near a stack of collapsed and folded packing boxes waiting to see what John wanted him to do.

When John turned away from the door he instantly saw David's discomfort and gave him an equally nervous smile. "Jamie won't be long. How about you give me a hand and we clear away some of these boxes to give us room to eat?"

David didn't answer as he began moving the cardboard.



Little more than an hour later, the three men had managed to empty all the takeout cartons and the debris was now strewn on John's coffee table.

"Man, I'm stuffed," Jamie groaned, rubbing his hands over his very full belly.

"I'm not bloody surprised," John laughed. "For a skinny guy you can sure put it away."

"I saw you knocking back an entire carton of satay," Jamie pouted. "And I am not skinny, you wanker!"

"Oh come on; you're a twig," John said as he leaned over to reach Jamie and pulled up the T-shirt to expose his belly. "Look at this! Nothing wobbles!"

Jamie shrieked as John proved his point by giving him a round of playful slaps. "Fuck off, you bastard. Help, Dave, make him stop."

David sat on his side of the table and laughed at the antics of his friend. The sound made John abandon torturing Jamie and look up. He was stunned by the change in David's features when he laughed and found himself smiling as David met his eyes.

David's own smile quickly faded under John's scrutiny. He decided that it was time to go and got to his feet, looking around for his jacket, boots, and pack. Jamie saw the sudden change; he'd half-expected it because David always did this when he started to drop his guard.

"It's gonna be cold tonight. Find somewhere warm, okay?" Jamie said as he got to his feet to see David to the door. He knew David had little choice over his sleeping arrangements, but hoped the hot dinner would help.

"Yeah, thanks for the help today," John called as David closed the door behind him.

When Jamie turned away from the door it was obvious that his previous light mood was gone. Seeing his expression, John frowned and said, "Come on, Jamie. He's had his nightly weather report. He'll be okay."

"It's a cold night, John, and it's late." When it was obvious John didn't get the intent of his words Jamie continued. "It's late, John. The shelter will be closed. David knows that and he has nowhere to go."

"Then why didn't he fucking say so?" John rolled his eyes and growled. "Why didn't he ask...?"

Jamie shot John a withering look and said, "Would you?"

John felt the air leave his lungs. Of course he wouldn't. His fucking pride wouldn't let him, but he still tried to reason. "Look, he'll find somewhere."

"Yeah, John... and he can always call the hypothermia emergency line if he can find a phone that hasn't been vandalized!" Jamie spat out.

"Come on, Jamie. I'll drive you home," John said quietly, wondering if there was such a thing as a hypothermia emergency line.

It was bitterly cold and had started to rain by the time they reached the car, but neither man acknowledged it. They sat in silence while John peered through the fogged window waiting for the demister to clear the glass. They were several blocks down the main road when John pulled sharply into the curb. He hit the button that lowered the electric windows, leaned across Jamie's lap, and shouted, "Get in!"

The icy wind rushed in through the open window, making Jamie's eyes water, but he was still able to make out the somewhat surprised and confused expression on David's face. He just stood there staring at John unsure what to do. Jamie had no clue what John had in mind, but he mentally willed David to walk to the car. He could feel John growing impatient when David didn't move so he called, "Come on, Davey. Please get in."

Jamie held his breath for what seemed an age until he saw David start to walk toward them; he quickly twisted around in his seat to open the back door. David lowered himself into the car and didn't say a word. He just sat and waited for John to explain the invitation.

John hadn't really thought that far ahead, but managed to come up with, "Look, it's fucking freezing and um... you may as well crash on the couch tonight. After all, you did help move it." Jamie knew it sounded pretty lame, but he gave John an appreciative smile when David closed the door and mumbled his thanks.

Jamie chattered happily the rest of the way to his apartment making sure to cover up the silence in the rest of the car. When John pulled up out front Jamie mouthed thank you to John before making a dash through the rain to his front door.

John could feel David sitting quietly behind him and wondered what the hell he was doing taking this man home. After a moment or two he turned around and asked, "Want to sit in the front? That way I'll feel less like your chauffeur."

David looked at him before giving a small nod and stepping out of the car to swap seats. He wasn't totally sure what was going on here but John seemed okay, and Jamie liked him. Once the car was in motion John commented on how quiet it was now that Jamie was gone and went on to tell David about Jamie's ability to talk nonstop without taking a breath. David visibly relaxed and smiled at John's observations.

They were nearly back at John's when he stopped outside a pharmacy and said, "Need some supplies if you're staying over. Not be a minute."

David felt his stomach plunge as he watched John jog into the store. There's always a cost.... Even for a night on the couch. He squeezed his eyes shut and contemplated just getting out of the car, but was too tired and simply didn't have enough energy to move. David didn't look at John when he got back into the car but eyed the small paper bag warily before it was tossed onto the backseat. He spent the rest of the trip in sullen silence despite John's attempts to make conversation.

When they got to the apartment he walked quietly behind John and stood still as the door was closed behind him. David felt the familiar wave of helplessness as he waited for the inevitable rough touch.

John was confused by the change in David. He'd not moved since John closed the door and his entire body language radiated fear. John knew he was out of his depth with this man; he hadn't meant to make him feel so uncomfortable. He passed the bag over and said in a hesitant voice, "I didn't know what you had so I just got some of the basics. Look, I'm sorry if I've offended you, but... oh fuck, I don't know...." John's sentence trailed off as he closed his eyes and wearily rubbed his hand across his forehead.

Slightly stunned by John's words, David looked down at the paper bag in his hands. He cautiously unfolded the neat crease to find a toothbrush, bar of soap, and a razor. He felt a rush of both relief and shame; relief that he was wrong and shame for not trusting John's intentions.

"Thank you, John. I appreciate it," David murmured, still looking at the contents of the bag. "Can I use your bathroom?"

John gave him a small smile even though David hadn't raised his eyes above the bag and fished a couple of fresh towels out of a nearby cardboard box efficiently labeled 'linen closet'.

David took the offered towels and ran his fingers lightly along the soft loops of the fabric. Eventually he looked up at John and quietly asked, "Would it be okay if I have a bath?"

"Of course it's okay." John's smile broadened and he motioned toward the bathroom.

John let out a relieved breath when he heard the bath taps running and went to retrieve bedclothes from the relevant box in his room to make up a bed for David on the couch.

Once the bath began to fill, David carefully took the items out of the bag and placed them neatly on the small counter next to the sink. He then started removing the layers of dirty clothing, pausing only to check that the door was still locked. David finally stood naked in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection. Both disgust and despair filled him at what he saw. How could you think John would want anything from you? He'd avoided looking at himself for so long he hardly recognized the person looking back.

David raised a hand to his face as if to convince himself of its reality. He closed his eyes against the image, fighting the urge to haul his clothes back on and walk out of the apartment.

It took David several minutes before he'd convinced himself to open his eyes. This time he resolutely met his own gaze before rummaging through the hastily filled bathroom drawers until he found a pair of nail scissors and began to methodically cut some of the matted knots from his hair. By the time the bath was full he'd finished on his hair and rubbed a hand over his beard.

After making up the bed on the couch, John carefully sat on it to test its comfort, despite the fact they'd been sprawled on it most of the evening. Being alone with David made him nervous. He wasn't afraid he'd wake up with his things stolen or anything; it was more the small but insistent flutter that had started low in his belly. He stood up and smoothed his hand over the blanket, straightening out the creases he'd just made. Satisfied with the result, he looked through his neatly folded clothes until he found track pants and a long sleeved T-shirt that might fit David.

When he heard the water gurgling down the drain, John waited a few minutes, then knocked on the door and called through the wood, "I have some clothes for you to sleep in. I'll just leave them by the door." John turned away and wandered into the kitchen, not that he had anything to do in there, but to give David a chance to retrieve the clothes. For want of something to do he started to organize the cutlery in the kitchen drawers until he heard the bathroom door open and close for a second time.

John had had every intention to ask David if he wanted a drink, but the words seemed to dry up in his mouth when he saw the other man. The old clothes hung a little too big on him, his hair was still damp, and he was clean shaven.

Beautiful.

John kept his eyes on David but waved his arm toward the makeshift bed. "I... I hope the couch is okay. You should be warm enough, but if you need another blanket I've put them in the closet in my room. Do you want me to get one? I can leave it here for you."

David walked to the couch and sat down. "This is good," he answered quietly, looking directly at John. "Thank you."

John's discomfort increased with David's response so he quickly stood up and said, "Well, we better get some sleep because I know we're going to face a barrage of questions from Jamie in the morning. Good night, David."

The mention of Jamie brought a small smile to David's lips and he replied, "Good night, John."

David waited until John closed his bedroom door before he settled down under the covers of the makeshift bed. John's clothes were clean and soft against his skin. Even though they'd obviously been laundered, they smelled vaguely of their owner. David turned onto his side and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. He was clean, warm, and felt safer than he had for a long time.

Although sleep came swiftly for David, John found it difficult to settle. He lay in his bed and thought through the events of the past couple of days. So different from what he'd expected. The store was okay; actually, he had to admit he was almost enjoying being a storekeeper. Sex with Jamie had been great and something of an unexpected bonus, but more importantly he was turning out to be a good friend. So why was he still lying awake with his mind racing?

David....