Muted daylight seeped through a blanket of cloud, the diluted warmth of spring casting faint shadows across the pavement. The city moved in its usual rhythm as scattered footsteps brushed past elegant buildings, each person absorbed in their own world. A light shimmer clung to the benches and railings, remnants of an earlier shower that barely touched the cold stone walls, blending into the steady, unaffected pulse of the city.

Jay stepped onto the street from the underground station, effortlessly blending into the quiet affluence of Knightsbridge. He moved with a natural elegance that caught passing glances – tall and lean in a tailored black Armani suit, the crisp white of his shirt and sleek black tie adding a refined contrast. His dark trench coat was open, catching the light breeze.

An all-nighter and long court session had left him running on sheer discipline alone, yet his usual indifferent expression masked any hint of weariness. His focus was on his phone and the legal document he was reading, making the bustle around him feel almost irrelevant, including two women trotting in high heels as they tried to catch up with him.

"James Henry Sebastian William!" Tina finally called, hoping this would work.

Jay instantly stopped and turned around with a look that could only be described as: if I had water and you were on fire, I would drink it and walk over your charred remains.

Vivian smiled brightly as she consciously added fuel to the fire by hugging him tightly in greeting. "I missed you so much!"

"We had seen each other last weekend," Jay deadpanned, extracting himself from her embrace.

Tina sighed and shook his head. "You know people miss each other... even if it has been only a few hours. At least those who don't bury everything underneath work."

"Speaking of which," Vivi started, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "It's way too early for an insomniac workaholic to be on his way home... wait, you just plan to work from there, aren't you?"

There was no need to answer her purely rhetorical question, especially since their presence here was way more unusual than his. "What are you two plotting?"

"We are shopping for dresses for the engagement party. I would invite you to join us, but I'm pretty sure you would rather die," Vivian explained.

"Guilty as charged."

Tina sighed, looking utterly aggrieved. "You do realise you are the worst gay best friend in the universe, right? No interest in fashion or gossip... I feel so sorry for us."

"Yes, we are so wronged," Vivi sniffled. "Only afternoon tea at the Berkeley could soothe our wounds."

Jay's eyebrow quirked questioningly, but he didn't say anything.

"I knew you would agree," Tina chirped, clasping her hands as she exchanged knowing looks with Vivian, then they both gripped the sleeves of Jay's trench coat and pulled him towards the hotel.

The tea room was understated and elegant, filled with the fresh scent of seasonal flowers. The décor seamlessly blended modern and classic furniture with plush seating and gentle lighting. Floral arrangements in delicate vases dotted the tables, adding a subtle vibrancy against the muted tones of the room.

Tina and Vivian settled on the sofa, looking extremely pleased with themselves. After all, derailing Jay from his work mode was a massive achievement. Not to mention, this was the perfect chance to interrogate him. Especially since Tina was recently split between company headquarters in Liverpool and a branch in Seoul and didn't see him for months.

"Sooo... how are things with Sean?" Tina asked after the waiter had taken their orders.

"Normal, I guess."

Vivian rolled her eyes and sighed with resignation. "Are you going to elaborate?"

Jay shrugged. "What else do you want me to say?"

"Maybe let's start with your definition of normal."

His eyebrow furrowed slightly. Tina and Vivian were always like this. They would team up and drive one of them insane with questions until the victim gave up and satisfied their curiosity. Years of friendship taught all three of them that any resistance was futile, although Jay was still better at it than Victor and Jonathan.

"Shall I get you a dictionary for your afternoon tea instead of champagne?"

Tina glared at him while her lips formed a bit of an evil smile. "No need, we can figure it out ourselves, right Vivi?"

"Of course."

"Well, looking at your track record, your normal would be to have fun and disappear..." Tina said thoughtfully, resting her chin on her palm.

Vivian nodded. "Agree, but Sean lasted way too long to fit the definition."

"Hmm... interesting, isn't it?"

Their conversation naturally paused as the waiter brought their drinks, delicate green tea and two flutes of champagne. Still, there was visible worry in the girls' eyes. After years of watching Jay and Victor navigate casual flings, they knew this was beyond different. And it had to last.

Suddenly, Vivi smiled sweetly. "Let's face it. You can either talk with us, or we will call Sean and have a lovely chat with him."

Jay's calm and composed expression didn't change, but his gaze dropped a few degrees as if warning them not to push it.

"Fine, fine," Tina raised her arms in surrender. "Getting anything out of you is pure torture."

"I'm aware."

"There is no need to be so smug about it," Vivian hissed, throwing a cushion at him. "We are just worried, okay?"

They knew Jay's past shaped him in ways that couldn't be easily seen, especially with his indifferent demeanour. The "performance reviews" with his mother had conditioned him to believe affection wasn't freely given. It was earned, measured, and transactional. Over time, that mindset had turned relationships into something he could control, something where he didn't need to risk anything, brought down to casual sex without attaching anything real to it.

Now, seeing him take a genuine risk with Sean, they couldn't help but worry that if things went wrong, Jay might entirely disappear behind his walls with no chance of ever resurfacing again.

Tina smiled sadly. "Even now, you can detach yourself from missing him and carry on with life like you always did, can't you?"

Jay sighed inaudibly as he reached for the teacup. A part of him knew she was right. He had always been able to compartmentalise, file things away, pack up emotions and seal them in a box, and return to his life as if nothing had happened. It had been a survival tactic for so long that he barely thought about it.

But now, something in that ability felt out of place, even unwelcome. Jay didn't want to stop missing Sean. On the contrary, he wanted to feel it, to let it matter. And yet, the impulse to brush it off sat so close, urging him to keep everything neatly contained.

Finally, he looked back at them, his expression almost resigned. "Maybe."

"But you don't like it?" Vivian asked carefully.

"It just... makes it feel like I'm never quite meeting the mark. Like there's always something I should be doing better, and I'm not."

"Jay... sweetheart," she began softly, fully realising how damaging the lack of good role models in his life was. "That's not how love works. It's not about whether you're 'good enough' or meeting some invisible standard. Sean doesn't tally up what you've done or calculate if you've earned his love. He simply loves you as you are," Vivian continued with a reassuring smile. "It's different from what you're used to, I know. But if you give yourself time, you will grow to believe him."

Tina nodded slowly, gently swirling her champagne. "I know it's not easy to shake off decades where any attention from someone who should have loved you unconditionally was only tied to what you achieved. But Sean is different, and I have no doubt he would give you the world if you let him without ever expecting anything back. Because your happiness is essential to his own. It's the same with you, isn't it? You hide all these things from him because you don't want to see him upset on your behalf, do you?"

His expression barely shifted as his face remained neutral, his eyes flicking briefly between them with a calm indifference that might have been mistaken for dismissal if they didn't know him. He didn't say anything. After all, he rarely did in moments like these. They were aware he couldn't simply switch off years of psychological programming that told him that love and attention must be earned while intimacy is nothing more than stress relief. However, they still hoped this would give him a push in the right direction.

The kitchen was bathed in ambient light, casting a subtle glow over sleek marble counters and polished cabinets. A gentle aroma lingered in the air, soft layers of lemongrass and coconut from the simmering tom kha gai adding warmth to the refined space. Yet, despite the inviting scent and carefully curated elegance, a quiet sense of incompletion hung in the air, as though something essential remained absent amid the perfection.

Jay finished the document he was working on and rubbed the nose bridge, instinctively glancing at the clock in the corner of the screen. He still had a couple of hours before Sean would wake up. Jay sighed lightly, then stood up from a high chair at the kitchen island to turn off the hob when his phone suddenly lit up. As soon as he saw the message, everything else felt inconsequential.

Victor

I could use 12-year-old Macallan.

Me

On my way

By midday, Jay had left the bustling JFK terminal and hailed the taxi, then gave the driver the address of the apartment building in the Upper West Side of Manhattan. A slight furrow between his brows betrayed his concern, as Victor hadn't asked him to come so urgently in a long time.

He pressed the doorbell, and soon, the door opened to reveal Victor's tired face, holding Sir Fitzgerald in his arms. In contrast to Victor, the long-haired black cat with a single white ear looked almost majestic and seemed to recover well.

"Wow, you look like shit," Jay chuckled, waving the bottle of 12-year-old Macallan.

His eyebrow cocked with amusement as Victor stepped aside to let him in. The apartment wasn't too large, but neat and well furnished. Perfect for two, allowing Victor and Alex a comfortable life.

Victor sunk into the sofa, squeezing his cat a bit too much. Sir Fitzgerald hissed and wriggled in his grip, his claws extending as he squirmed desperately. He let out a deep, guttural yowl as he twisted, paws thrashing as if determined to flee by any means necessary. Victor seemed oblivious to the increasingly frantic cat, even as claws nicked his wrist. Finally, Jay, feeling sorry for the indignant creature, gently loosened Victor's hold, letting Sir Fitzgerald leap to the floor and disappear into one of the bedrooms.

Jay plopped on the sofa beside him and opened the bottle, then nudged Victor to take it. "I'm listening."

Victor slowly turned towards him, with desperation in his eyes Jay hadn't seen in years. "We had sex more times than we can possibly count or remember, right?"

Jay nodded, confused by the tone. It seemed too serious for something they had never placed any value on.

"And there never was a problem with my performance, not even when we were drunk as fuck, right?"

"I don't recall ever having any complaints," he responded, more perplexed by the second. "But I assume you didn't ask me to come here to have a walk down memory lane."

Victor sighed and gulped down nearly a quarter of the whisky, which said a lot about the state of his mind. "So, you know, when I found Sir Fitzgerald, I took him to this small vet clinic in Williamsburg?"

Of course, Jay remembered that... Bloody bastard called him shortly after he fell asleep just to ask if Jay minded him keeping a cat in the apartment. At the time, Jay couldn't give a damn about anything and told him to do whatever he wanted. Still, Victor couldn't help but recount how he found an abandoned and injured cat on the way home after a long shift at his mental health clinic placement. Needless to say, Jay didn't get any sleep that night, listening to Victor's suggestions for names, ranging from Lord Paddington to Remington.

"I assume the link to your questions about our sex is linked to someone at the vet clinic?"

"Yeah... cute, charming and funny blonde last year at Cornell, doing a placement at his grandfather's clinic. He was the one who patched up Fitz and dealt with follow-up appointments. He basically grew up there, so his grandfather gives him more freedom."

Wanting to or not, Jay spent another hour or so listening to Victor talk about Scott – about everything, from his motivations for choosing a veterinary school to the fact that he was raised by his grandfather. Every detail, except the source of Victor's problem.

"He is the epitome of my type, you know?"

Jay chuckled, drinking more whisky. "Yeah, I got that... you wouldn't shut up about him, leaving me to feed poor Sir Fitzgerald."

"Asshole," Victor hissed, snatching a bottle from him. "Anyway, at some point, we started to hang out more and one thing led to another. We made out a few times, but nothing serious... until we ended in bed..." he paused, taking a long swig. "Can you imagine a situation where the guy you find incredibly hot is in front of you in nothing but underwear, and you lose your hard-on? It was like that."

Jay looked at him, utterly speechless. This wasn't something he ever expected to hear from Victor, but the frustration in his voice was real.

"To make it worse, Scott apologised for making me uncomfortable... it took me a while to realise he meant an uneven and pretty noticeable scar on his stomach. But to be honest, I wasn't paying attention to it. I just don't know what happened. And before I could figure it out, he left. What am I supposed to do?"

"Did you try to hook up with someone else?"

Given their habits, this was a very reasonable question and a very straightforward solution. But also made him realise something. "I don't want anyone else."

"You are really into him," Jay said, slightly amused by how tables have turned. "I'm not the one getting into people's heads, but is it possible that nerves got the better of you because he is the first person you actually like?"

Victor glared at him, clearly not sharing his amusement. "C'mon, it's me we are talking about. I admit, he is cute and sexy, and we had a fun time together, but to like him? Impossible."

Jay burst out laughing. "So, unless you expect me to help you with your erection problems, why am I here?"

"Right, I forgot you do monogamy now," he rolled his eyes.

"You were the one who pushed me into it," Jay deadpanned.

"Oh? Do you regret it?"

Jay let out an exaggerated sigh. "If you ever dare to say again that I'm the one running away, I'm going to strangle you."

"Fine," Victor hissed with annoyance. "Alex is away for performance, so I need you to take Fitz for his check-up."

There was a long pause, filled with suffocating stillness, but then Jay's expression shifted in a way that made Victor regret every single life choice that led him to this moment.

"You have an incredible talent for not following your own advice," Jay said slowly, trying very hard to not smack some reason into him. "Clearly, he is not just any random person. Otherwise, you would already have someone else."

Victor couldn't argue with him, but admitting Jay was right was difficult.

"Besides, wasn't it you who said that just because we are messed up doesn't mean we don't deserve better?" Jay asked, petting Sir Fitzgerald, who jumped on the sofa and curled by his side. "Or you are trying to tell me it doesn't apply to you?"

"I'm not that hypocritical... it's just... he looked so hurt, Jay. I'm pretty sure he will never want to see me again. And I wouldn't blame him."

Jay watched him in silence. Victor looked exhausted, wounded, and defeated. It was an expression Jay hadn't seen since they were kids – one that Victor would have after his father's beatings. That quiet resignation, the hollow acceptance that this was just how things were, like something fragile inside had shattered. Only this time, there were no bruises and cuts for Jay to patch up and make him feel better.

"Are you really going to let him slip through your fingers because of a misunderstanding, Vic?" Jay asked with concern. "At the very least, invite him for a coffee and apologise so he won't be left thinking there was something wrong with him. You owe him that much for saving Fitz."

Victor suddenly raised his head and looked at Jay in horror. His friend was a walking example of how devastating a conviction like this could be. The last thing he wanted for Scott was to be even more self-conscious about something out of his control.

"What if he doesn't want to see me?"

Suddenly, Sir Fitzgerald stood and gracefully walked over Jay's legs, then snuggled into Victor as if trying to comfort him, which alone spoke volumes about misery radiating from him.

"You know... people can only be hurt by those they care about. So, I'm sure he'll agree, even if it's just for closure," Jay said, exhaling softly. "You were right that neither of us really knows how to handle things like this, and we mess up more times than we get it right. Still, we learn from our mistakes."

"Oh? Does it mean you talked with Sean about everything?"

Jay shook his head. "I can't."

Victor frowned. "Why not?"

He sighed heavily and took a few sips of whisky, but it did little to help. Finally, Jay told him about Margaret's offer.

"No way... wait, wasn't that the perfect moment to tell him not to take it?"

"It's not as straightforward as you think," Jay said, letting out another sigh. "This way, we can sort out his visa, which may be impossible otherwise. Offer alone doesn't mean he will have smooth sailing and set him up for life. He still needs to get into the Legal Practice Course on his own and pass it. Sure, internship helps, but you know the reality... she often gives people offers like this, but not all get jobs. It all depends on results."

Victor nodded. "Right, she doesn't run charity after all."

"Yeah, so taking it doesn't harm him, but if he knew... he would reject it," Jay said, drinking more whisky. "Sean deserves an opportunity like this, and I wouldn't take it away from him because of things that don't matter anymore..."

Victor looked at him sadly. In all the time he had known Jay, there had only been two occasions when Jay asked Margaret for help, and each time, the price to pay was too high. The first had scarred him for life. The second forced him to keep those scars hidden from the one person who might have been able to save him.