Chapter 25

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Chapter 25: Commencement

Ashok was already awake and watching me when the alarm ripped me from a dream that Friday morning.  It had been a good dream, though it didn’t start out that way. At first, I dreamed that H. and I were back at University, attending a lecture by a professor visiting from Belgium or France.  We were sitting all the way in the back row, hidden by shadows, and all I wanted to do was to hold his hand where there was no chance anyone would see.  Each time I reached for him, however, he pushed my hand away and gave me a look that withered my soul.  After a third or fourth attempt I felt so utterly rejected, I had to get away. I stood and headed for the exit, but paused to take one last look back to see if he had changed his mind.  Instead of looking after me, I saw that he had turned to the girl in the seat next to him, kissing and groping her so noisily I could hear it from several feet away.  Crushed, I walked out of the lecture hall onto a sunny beach, my toes sinking into pearly white, silky soft sand.  I looked around in confusion, only to feel someone grabbing my hand.

“Come into the water, Rick,” Ashok beckoned, pulling me towards the waves that gently lapped at the shore.  I was about to explain that I wasn’t properly dressed when I realised that I was, in fact, wearing only my swim briefs.  Confused, I let him lead me out into the water, off to the side of the beach where we were mostly hidden by a semi-circle of large boulders.

“Make love to me. I need you inside me,” Ashok encouraged, wrapping his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist. I was surprised to discover that as we walked deeper into the water our swim suits had disappeared, and we were both gloriously naked.  I briefly considered whether we needed protection, but quickly dismissed the thought, somehow knowing that this was something we didn’t need to worry about. We didn’t have lube either, but in my dream I was able to thrust my cock deep into him without the need for lubrication. I positioned our bodies so he could recline against a big flat expanse of rock and pounded him vigorously, far more so than I would ever do in real life, but the utter ecstasy on his face assured me he loved it as much as I did.  I tried to ignore the plane or whatever was making the annoying buzzing noise that interfered with our enjoyment until it became impossible and I opened my eyes.  The reality of my bed wasn’t quite as good as the beach in my dream, but having Ashok in my arms was certainly a good way to wake up.

“I liked watching you sleep.  You were moving and making sexy noises.  It must have been a good dream,” Ashok said softly.

“It was a good dream,” I acknowledged. “We were making love on a beach, in the water.”

“A beach?  Is that allowed?  In Dubai a tourist couple made love on the beach once and they were both put in jail.”

“It’s not allowed on public beaches here either, but maybe someday we’ll find a place to stay with a private beach, where we can be alone without anyone interrupting.  Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“It would,” he acknowledged, “but I like being here with you just as much.  It does not matter where we are, as long as we are together.”

Those had been the words I’d been waiting to hear from H. for years.  Ashok articulated them within a month of our meeting, within hours of our decision to become exclusive. I smiled, pulled him on top of me for a hug and a kiss, and whispered that he was exactly right.

Greg called while I was at work.  He and his family were back in London and invited us all over for dinner. I had to wonder where Viktor got his energy, knowing that he'd be cooking for us after training all day for the Arsenal opening match the next day, but I certainly wasn't going to argue. It would be the first chance Ashok and I would have to tell the guys we were officially together and, for once, I was actually looking forward to hearing and seeing their reactions.

Ashok was more apprehensive about the dinner, worried about finally meeting Viktor. “What if he does not like me?” he asked nervously as we were getting ready after I got home from work.  I needed to get out of my work clothes and Ashok wanted to change his shirt into one that was similar in style to mine, something I found most endearing. I didn’t necessarily always want us to dress alike, but in this case I was pretty certain the matching shirts were part symbol of unity and part shield against the unknown man he’d heard so much about.

“Relax,” I told him as I helped him pull on the shirt and unbuttoned his jeans to tuck in the hem, copping a feel of his cock and balls in the process, “I told you already, Viktor is going to love you.  Helena will make sure of that.”

“But...” he began. I silenced him by filling his mouth with my tongue.

“No buts. You have nothing to be nervous about.  The two of you are going to be fast friends.”

“We are?  Why?”

“Well, you’re the only two in the group who aren’t British, for one.  And you both enjoy cooking.”

“Viktor cooks?” Ashok asked with interest.

“He does,” I affirmed. “Mostly it’s food he learned to cook from his mother and grandmother in Bulgaria, but it’s all pretty tasty, as I’m sure you’ll find out tonight.”

“I have never tried Bulgarian food,” he fretted.

“Ashy, stop,” I said sternly, zipping and buttoning up his jeans.  “You’re getting worked up over nothing.  You will be among friends who all know and love you already.  Even if for some strange reason Viktor feels differently, it won’t make a difference.”

“But you said he was the leader.  You said...”

I groaned, remembering the conversation we had on the plane and regretting how my attempt to reassure him then was backfiring now.

“I know what I said, but that was when I’d just met you and didn’t realise you would become as close as you are with Vince, Dré, Greg and Helena, not to mention with me,” I tipped up his chin and gave him a light kiss on his sweet, full lips.  “Now that you’ve converted all of us, you no longer need the leader’s support, though I assure you, you’ll get it nonetheless. Now, stop fretting and let’s go.  I’m sure Helena is eager to see you and we don’t want to keep her waiting.”

Ashok seemed better, but it wasn’t until he was introduced to Viktor that I finally saw his anxiety drain away.  Greg, Helena and Luna greeted him warmly and Viktor took him under his wing, allowing Ashok to help with the food preparation while I told Greg everything that happened with H. I didn’t plan to share the gory details with the others, but it felt good to confide in my best mate.  By the end, I had another epiphany.

“This is what love is supposed to feel like!"

"Yes, mate.  Yes it is.  There you have it exactly," Greg said approvingly, then broke out into a knowing smile.

"This is what it's like, for you and Viktor, isn’t it?  For Dré and Vince too, I suppose," I theorized.

"Now you know," He took my hand with a big grin.

"Well, it feels damn good! I had something like it with Jasper and Kinkaid, or thought I did, but somehow it's even better with Ashok.  Couldn't precisely tell you why.  It just is somehow."

“Don’t bother over-analysing, Rick, just enjoy it.  Be happy. Keep Ashok happy. You two just need to keep taking care of each other as you’ve done since you met.  The rest will work itself out,” Greg advised.

“You’re right. Of course you’re right,” I extracted my hand from his and patted his thigh. “You’ve been so good to me all these years. Thank you, my friend.”

"Starter ready.  You still talk?  Want I bring more beer?" Viktor asked from the door to the private garden, making both Greg and I turn around.

"I think we're done," Greg stood up and I did the same.

"Thank you for letting me monopolise your partner, Viktor.”.

"Is okay," Viktor nodded.  "You our friend. And I like Ashok. He good boy."

I smiled proudly. I knew Ashok had nothing to worry about in meeting Viktor, but it was good to hear this confirmation.

“More than just a good boy, he’s the right boy for Rick,” Greg interjected. "Rick just told me that he and Ashok are together, and all the H. drama is a thing of the past, permanently”.

Viktor didn’t waste words. Instead, he pulled me into a warm, tight hug. It lasted just long enough for me to understand he approved and was happy for me.

"It zagovezni for us today.  We drink and eat! Come," he emphasized his command by clapping me on the back.

We went back upstairs where Ashok proudly showed off his grilling efforts. Vince and Dré arrived, followed by a couple of Viktor’s teammates who were gay and together, as well as Viktor and Greg’s straight neighbours. Viktor and Ashok went back to the kitchen to finish preparing the meal while the rest of us talked and ate the excellent starters.  Eventually it was time for the main course, with Viktor and Ashok both giving each other credit for their contributions to the meal. The whole evening was friendly and pleasant, all the more so because, for once, I wasn’t alone. Even when we weren’t in the same room, I knew that Ashok was there, and that if I were to seek him out he would happily welcome my affection and return it in kind. And when we were in the same room, he was always near me, almost always in physical contact with me.  I wouldn’t have wanted the evening to end, except that I knew it would get even better when we got home.

“I told you there was nothing to worry about,” I told Ashok as I held him close on the cab ride back to our flat. “Viktor loves you.”

“Viktor likes me, and I like him, very much.  He loves Greg,” Ashok corrected, the wine he drank throughout the evening making him slightly bolder than usual.

“You’re so right,” my words came out with a beer-induced slur. “Viktor loves Greg, and Vince loves Dré, and Lukasz loves Kieran, and I love you.”

“All is at it should be,” he concluded.

“That it is, Ashy.  That it is,” I agreed.

And it was.  I would never have believed how easy it was to put H. out of my life, mind and heart.  Every time I’d broken things off with him before, I’d been left with a gaping wound that throbbed and festered and made thinking about anything or anyone else virtually impossible.  This time, Ashok filled the void before I even knew it was there. I loved spending time alone with him, either shopping or exploring London or just hanging out at home, in and out of the bedroom. I loved when we spent time with our friends as well. We developed a routine of having dinner at Vince and Dré’s Tuesday evenings, going out with all four guys to Molly’s once or twice a week, and often spent Sunday afternoons with Greg, Viktor and Helena, visiting her favourite places.  Sometimes Lukasz and Kieran would join us on Sundays and when they were with us Kieran and Ashok would usually play with Helena, while Viktor and Lukasz roughhoused like teenage boys and Greg and I talked. My life became predictable in a whole new way. I’d never felt like an outcast among my friends, exactly, but I had never truly fit in either, until Ashok finally bound us all together into one extended gay family.

“Do you know, I don’t think the two of you ever stop smiling when you’re together?” Greg said out of the blue one afternoon, sporting a grin of his own.

“We’re happy, Greg.  That trip to the Emirates was like serendipity.  Everything came together at the right time.”

“Worked out for the best, it did, for everyone concerned,” Greg agreed.

I briefly let my thoughts stray to H., thinking that he may have been the exception to that rule, but I found I didn’t really care. He was the only one responsible for his misery, and the only one who could do anything about it. Besides, he was probably too busy fucking Seamus to feel badly about, or even remember, our break up. I wasn’t quite Zen enough to wish them happiness together, but focusing on the life Ashok and I were building together helped me let go of my resentment.

The night of Greg and Viktor’s dinner, Ashok and I told him about our tentative plans to have Ashok study for his GCSE in English and Maths.  Greg immediately remembered David Game College, a school right in his neighbourhood that offered, among others, one year prep GSCE courses.  Ashok and I went to the school together for his admission interview, and even though he was intimidated, I could see his excitement at the prospect of attending classes with other people his own age. I dismissed his concerns about tuition, knowing there was enough left in the money sent by Nasir to cover almost the whole cost, with me making up the difference out of my savings. His visa presented a bigger hurdle, especially when Dré’s father was initially reluctant to help. Eventually, though, he made the calls that needed to be made for Ashok’s visa to be converted from visitor to student without him having to go back to India.

Ashok was bright eyed when we bought his textbooks for the year and was happy that he could arrange to attend classes in the mornings, Monday through Thursday, leaving him afternoons and Fridays to spend with Vince and do his homework.  His only regret was that we no longer took the same train in the morning.  Otherwise, he liked his tutors and classmates, and even joined a study group.  I was glad to see him adjusting to life in England so easily, and happy to see him develop a network of his own friends, even if I sometimes selfishly resented that I could not share that part of his life as well, and worried a little about how it could possibly seduce him away from me.

My jealousy became obvious one evening when I picked him up at a café where his study group met on the way to dinner with the guys. It was disconcerting to see him hanging out with several cute young boys, watching them jostle against him and rub his shoulder. I remembered H.’s prediction that Ashok would leave me when he found someone better, and a part of me wondered if he preferred the company of his peers to mine.  The thought made me quieter than usual on the way to Molly’s and continued to nag at me throughout the evening.  Even though I tried to remain engaged in the conversation, the guys often had to pull me back to the present as my mind wandered.  Ashok watched me throughout dinner with concern, but didn’t say anything until we were alone again on the way back to our flat.

“Something has been bothering you all night,” he stated, looking up at me inquisitively.

“It’s nothing,” I tried to dismiss his question.  It didn’t work any better than my attempts at dismissing my dark thoughts.

“Is it the study group? I can drop out of it if you want. You and Greg can help me with my studies.”

“No!” as worried as I was, I didn’t want him to base his decisions on my insecurities. “The study group is good. The whole reason we decided that you should go to school instead of doing home study was so that you could spend more time with people your own age.”

“But it upsets you,” he protested.  “I can see it.”

I sighed.  “I’m just a little insecure, that’s all.  What if you decide I’m too old or boring for you? I’m sure these boys could show you a much more exciting time than I could.”

Ashok shook his head and his lips cracked into a small smile.

“I am certain they could not.”

“Oh?” I picked up on the hint of amusement in his voice and became very curious as to its source. “How can you know that?”

“Because they all like girls.  They spend half the study group talking about them.”

My relief was palpable, but it was almost immediately replaced with another concern.

“Do they know you’re gay?” I knew as a general rule each successive generation tended to be more tolerant than the one before it, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any young bigots around. I didn’t want Ashok to experience any intolerance at all, but I especially wanted him to be physically safe. I frowned, trying to recall more about the boys in the group.  Ashok was so slight, all of them were bigger than he was, if not necessarily older. Any of them could pose a threat individually, and even more so as a group.

“They do. I told them all about you and showed them my boyfriend bracelet,” Ashok raised his arm to look at the cuff around his wrist.

“And they are all fine with it?” I asked to confirm.

“I think so,” Ashok considered. “They like me because girls come over to talk to me sometimes. They say I am...” he furrowed his brows in concentration, “bird bait!” he remembered the phrase triumphantly.

I had to laugh at the idea of his new friends using Ashok to lure girls. He was good looking, polite and not at all intimidating, all qualities that would undoubtedly appeal to young girls, at least those who were not on the hunt for bad boys.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” I said.  He must have misunderstood the reason for my relief, because he slowed us to a stop.

“Rick, I am not looking for someone else.  The boys at school are very young and very foolish. They are fun to study with and I like to listen to them joke, but even if they were all gay, I would much rather be with you than any of them. I love you. You told me that you would not be with another man behind my back, now I will say the same to you. You do not need to worry. No matter where I am or who I am with, you are always with me in my heart.”

It was impossible for me not to sweep him into my arms for a huge hug after hearing that. Once again, it was exactly the reassurance I needed, the reassurance I never got from H. I might have kissed Ashok senseless right then and there, but it was late in the evening and we weren’t in Soho, making me a little more wary of effusive public displays of affection. We more than made up for it when we reached our flat, however, making love so late into the night we were both almost late to work and school the next morning.

With everything else in our lives falling into place, there were only two people left who did not know about Ashok.  Although I spoke with my parents every couple of weeks and it would have been easy to tell them about him from the start, I made a decision not to do so until I could make the introductions in person.  I wasn’t sure why I was so reluctant. My parents knew I was gay and I couldn’t imagine them not loving Ashok.  I guess I thought our story would be easier explained in person.  A tale of four Brits flying to the Middle East to rescue an Indian boy was difficult enough to believe, but then the story of me falling in love with my new house guest was even more suspect.  It would have been too easy to assume that Ashok and I were together out of the mere convenience of proximity, or maybe to think that he had latched onto me as a way of ensuring he could stay in the country or that his youth had made him vulnerable to my seduction.  I hoped my parents knew better than to subscribe to any of these theories, but I still thought it would be best if they saw us together before they could form any misconceptions. And there was something exciting about, for once, surprising them with some good news.

Fortunately, my parents had learned long ago not to ask about my personal life, so I didn’t have to do much to keep my relationship with Ashok secret.  As the end of September approached, however, I grew anxious.  If my parents didn’t make it back to England before the holidays, I would have to tell them about Ashok. He wouldn’t be able to leave the country to visit them in Turkey with me and I refused to spend our first holiday season apart.  I was on the brink of asking my mum if they would be back any time in the autumn, when she called to say that they were, indeed, flying back for a few days at the end of the month.

“You will make time to spend at least a weekend with us, won’t you?” she implored.

“I definitely will, and I’ll bring someone with me.  Someone special,” the thrill of saying the words was beyond description.

“Oh?  Someone special?  Who is it? And why haven’t you said anything until now?” My mother’s excitement, palpable even over the long distance, overshadowed her attempted chastisement.

“His name is Ashok and he’s wonderful. You and Dad are going to love him.  That’s all I want to say for now. You’ll find out the rest when we see you.”

“Ashok? That’s an Indian name, isn’t it?  Your Father will want to reminisce with him about India.  He did enjoy the time he spent there.  That was when he was very young, of course.  It may have been his first foreign post, years before we met.”

“Oh, right” I said, her words prompting me to recall stories my father shared with me long ago. “Ashok grew up in India, but for the last six years he’s lived in the United Arab Emirates.” It was safe to share this detail with her, since I never actually mentioned the rescue mission to my parents.

“Really?  He’s a nomad, then, like we are.  He’ll fit right in,” she said brightly.

“I believe he will, Mum.  I can’t wait for you to meet him and for him to meet you and Dad.  When will you be here?”

I wrote down their travel plans and arranged to take the Friday off so that Ashok and I could spend a long weekend in the Cotswolds.  Instead of taking the train, I opted to rent a car, for added flexibility in case we wanted to venture beyond Bourton-on-the-Water into neighboring villages.  I picked up the car mid-day Thursday and drove to the flat, where Ashok waited with the already packed bags.  From there it was easy to take Cromwell to Holland Road and then take the Marylebone Flyover out of the city until I could merge onto the M40.  Ashok was as nervous about meeting my parents as he had been about Viktor, but he was excited too.  On the drive to the cottage he asked question after question, seemingly wanting to know everything there was to know about my family.  I answered as best as I could, happy for the distraction.

I was nearly as anxious as Ashok, since I had never brought a lover to my parents’ home before or, for that matter, introduced one to them.  They had met H. when we shared the flat at Uni, but of course back then I had to pretend we were nothing more than friends.  So while they were well aware that I was gay, this would be the first time they would see evidence of it, right under their roof.  Knowing how open-minded they were, and how much they wanted me to be happy, I didn’t think they would have any issues, but the sheer novelty of the experience had me a little buzzed.

We exited the M40 onto the A40 and took a detour through Oxford so Ashok could see some of the University, albeit only from the window of the Vauxhall Astra GTC we were driving for the weekend.  I promised that we would return for a full day of sightseeing, knowing that we did not have enough time to properly see everything and still make it to my parents’ house by dinner. Ashok was amenable, and I had the feeling that the brief glimpses he got were more than enough to fill him with awe.

“You all went to school here?” he asked, obviously impressed.

“We did,” I confirmed. “All of us except Viktor, of course, and Vince. But he lived here with Dré and apprenticed with a local plumber, so we were all together.”

I felt a slight pang of nostalgia as I watched students walking along the pavement and slipping into the same pub that the guys and I frequented when we had lived here. It all seemed so long ago, it was hard to believe back then I was the same age Ashok was now.

“Would you prefer to go to university rather than culinary school?” I asked him, wondering if we had been too rash in steering him towards a culinary education.  Just because he liked to cook did not mean that he didn’t want a university degree like the rest of us, save Vince. Ashok, however, shook his head in denial.

“I want to learn about cooking. I would much rather work in the kitchen than in an office or a museum.  I am learning enough now, I think?”

“You are learning plenty. I just wanted to make sure culinary school was what you wanted, not what we wanted for you.”

“I think it is both,” Ashok said. “I want it, and you want it for me because you care about me.”

I turned to him and smiled at him lovingly before turning back to watch the road.  He was, as always, wise beyond his years.

“This area is so beautiful,” Ashok observed as we drove on High Street through Burford to get to the A424, which would take us almost all the way to Bourton-on-the-Water. “I have never seen anything like it.  It is like something out of Helena’s fairy tale book.”

“These towns have been here for a long time and progress hasn’t managed to change them too much yet.  The pace of life in the Cotswolds is slower than in London, which is why my parents wanted to buy a house here for their retirement. You’ll see when we get to Bourton-on-the -Water.  Much of the village is the same as it was a couple centuries ago, except for the electricity and cars, of course, and the occasional jet flying overhead from the nearby RAF base.”

“These are old, but not run down. Even these yellow houses with the funny roofs look well maintained.  There is nothing like this in Dubai, or in India.”

“I’d wager there’s nothing much like this outside the British Isles.  Those roofs are covered with thatch.  It was a common roofing material once upon a time, but not anymore.  These days it’s very rare and expensive, and has to be treated with fire retardant.  It does make the houses look quaint, though, doesn’t it?

“Very much so,” he nodded. “Is your parents’ house like this?”

“I’m afraid not. Their cottage is charming, but it’s got brick walls, a slate roof and diamond leaded bars in the windows. But it’s on the outskirts of the village, so it’s quiet and peaceful, and quaint in its own right, with all the modern amenities. The grounds are lovely too, with a pretty garden and a wood in the back.  There is a couple in town, the Hawkinses, who take care of the house when my parents are not around, so the house is always ready for a visit.”

“Did you grow up there?” Ashok asked, his innocent question causing me to chuckle.

“No, I mostly grew up outside of England.  When I was young my parents took me with them to wherever they were posted for work, so I grew up in France, Portugal, Barbados, and Sweden. When I grew older and my parents thought I needed more stability and continuity, they enrolled me at boarding school.  That way, no matter where they lived, I had the same set of friends and teachers from start to finish.”

“Did you like the boarding school?”

“It was difficult being away from my parents at first, but I was used to adjusting to strange places by then.  I soon met Greg and we became fast friends.  Later we became friends with Vince and Dré, and eventually I met H. My parents bought this home towards the end of my time at Uni, so it wasn’t a place I remember from childhood. Instead, I would spend summers and holidays wherever they were posted, or with my friends in England.  I spent a few summers with Greg and his family.”

I smiled, recalling the summer memories fondly.  It was during one such summer that Greg and I confessed our attraction towards each other and began to experiment sexually.  We believed ourselves in love and that summer we probably were.  It was only when the school year started and I met H. that everything fell apart. And yet, even after that, when I’d made clear to Greg that it was H. I wanted, he still invited me to his home for a summer and I accepted, mostly hoping for a chance to see H. from time to time.  Despite my selfishness, Greg had been nothing but a good friend that summer, comforting me each time H. backed out of our plans to see each other with a myriad of excuses.  I shook my head, wondering how my best friend hadn’t gotten sick of doing the same thing for me for over a decade. For his sake, as well as mine, I was thrilled he would never have to do it again.

“Does Greg’s family live nearby?”

“Not exactly.  Greg is from Yorkshire, which is much further north. His parents own an inn.  Perhaps someday we will go up there to visit.  I’m sure they would love to meet you.  Greg’s parents and grandfather are like my second family.”

“I would like that very much!” Ashok grew excited. “Could we go with Greg and Viktor and Helena?”

“That’s exactly what I had in mind, though we may have to wait until next June, after football season is over.  Then we could take an even longer holiday, maybe an entire week.”

“That would be fun!” he exclaimed, practically squirming in his seat.

“We’ll make a point of it.  I’m certain Helena would love it.” Greg was an only child, so there were no little cousins on his side of the family for Helena to play with, and while she adored her grandparents and her great-grandfather, I was sure she’d appreciate having a playmate as willing as Ashok along on the trip.

“We’re almost there,” I commented as we turned onto Rissington Street which would take us into the heart of the village. Ashok looked around, his hands twisting together.

“Is it really okay for me to come with you?” he asked the same question he’d been asking all week.

“Not only is it okay, it is imperative that you come with me.  My parents want and need to meet you.”

“But what if they do not like me?”

“Remember how you worried about Viktor and I told you everything would be fine?” I prompted. He nodded slowly. “It will be just the same with my parents, trust me.” I reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“I do,” his deep brown eyes were still widened with apprehension, but I saw him let out a deep breath, and I hoped by the time we drove through the centre of the village and out to the house he would be back to his usual shy but calm self.

We pulled into the drive a few minutes later. I knew my parents preferred to park in the left bay of the two car garage, so I pulled up to the closed doors on the right and turned off the engine.

“Here we are,” I said in a deliberately upbeat tone. “Let’s go and say hello.”

My parents must have been waiting by the windows, because we were barely out of the car when they both came out of the house with wide smiles on their faces.  Ashok and I got out of the car and I walked around to join him so we could greet my parents together.

“You’re here at last.  How wonderful!” my mum exclaimed, with a beaming smile on her face that was impossible not to return.  “How was the drive?”

“Leaving in the middle of the day did the trick, so it wasn’t bad at all, was it, Ashy?” I replied, deliberately including him in the conversation.

“It was very pleasant.  The countryside is so nice,” Ashok said softly.

“Mum, Dad, this is Ashok.  He’s very special to me,” I said, wrapping my arm around his shoulder.  “Ashok, this is my mum, Gemma, and my dad, Amos,” I completed the introductions.

“Nice to meet you, Ashok. Welcome to our home,” Dad held out his hand, which Ashok took and shook timidly.

“It is nice to meet you too, Sir,” he said.

“I’m so happy to meet you, Ashok,” Mum gushed. “I hope you don’t mind a welcome hug.” She stepped forward and pulled Ashok from underneath my arm and into hers. He hugged her back, at first hesitant but then with a little more confidence.

“I am happy to meet you as well, Mrs. Diggory” he told her when she finally let him go. “Thank you for inviting me to your home.”

“As to that, the pleasure is ours, I assure you.  You are most welcome, most welcome,” she repeated with an emphasis on the most, looking pointedly in my direction. “Come in, please, we must get better acquainted. I will put on the kettle for tea, or would you prefer something else? Help Cedric with the bags, would you, Dear?” She directed my father as she led Ashok into the house.  He looked back at me over his shoulder and I gave him an encouraging smile and a wink. I had no doubt he was in good hands.

“So,” Dad began as I opened the boot and lifted out our bags, pulling up the handles and giving one to my father to wheel into the house.  “Ashok seems like a nice young man. How long have you been seeing each other?”

“A few months. We met shortly after the last time I was here, actually.”

“You seem a different man now,” he commented approvingly. “I don’t remember the last time you were so relaxed and happy.”

“I don’t remember either, Dad.  It’s been at least a few years, though I only see that now, as I look back. Everything has been better since he’s been in my life.”

“I remember feeling that way after I met your mother,” he said with a knowing smile. “I didn’t realise that there was a hole in my life until she came along to fill it.”

“That’s it exactly, though it took me a little while to recognise. Ashok sort of guided me to it. He was very patient.”

My father chuckled and clapped me on the back with his free hand. “Like father, like son, my boy.  Your mother had to do some patient guiding of her own once upon a time. What matters is that we let them open our eyes to see what we needed to see.”

Inside the house, Mum and Ashok were sitting at the square table tucked into one corner of the large kitchen, next to a tiered plate holder filled with cucumber, tuna and egg sandwiches, scones, and biscuits, my mother’s substitution for the more traditional cake, which she never liked. A tea service for four was set out on the table, and I knew the tea had already been measured into the pot, awaiting only the hot water for steeping. The kettle was on the hob, thin wisps of steam rising from the spout signalling the impending shrill of the whistle.

“Come join us, you two,” Mum encouraged. “I thought you boys might be hungry after the drive so I prepared tea.  We can go into town later for dinner.”

“That was nice of you, Mum, thanks!” I said and Ashok nodded, seemingly at a loss for words.

The whistle sounded and Mum made to get up, but Dad waved her off and stood to bring the kettle to the table and fill the tea pot with boiling water.

“There, just a few more minutes,” Mum said cheerily. “How is London?”

“Same as ever,” I said, “and completely different.  Ashok and I spend a lot of time exploring the city. We’ve hit all the tourist highlights, but we also found places I never knew existed or never bothered to visit before.”

“Oh, like what?” Mum asked, so I rattled off the various places we found off the beaten path as well as some of the major attractions.  Mum poured the tea and we drank and ate as we talked, with her and Dad trading off asking questions.  Their lifetime of foreign diplomacy training made them excellent interviewers, and they managed to put Ashok completely at ease very shortly after our arrival.  Still, when my mum finally got to the trickiest question, about how we met, Ashok looked at me with a concerned expression.  We had talked about this when we decided to come out for a visit, knowing that the question was bound to come up.  He worried that telling my parents the whole truth about how he left the  Al Qasimi family without notice and now lived with me having no job or financial resources of his own, could make them dislike him or judge him unworthy of their son.  Despite my many assurances to the contrary, I could tell he was still fretting. We both knew, however, that we could not and did not want to keep things from my parents, and had both decided to tell them the whole truth regardless of its impact. I, of course, wasn’t particularly worried, but I reached for his hand and let his grip tighten around mine as I let the explanation unfold, pausing from time to time to let Ashok fill in parts of the story.

My parents did not disappoint me, their reaction filled with understanding and compassion.  When we were done, Mum pushed away from the table and walked up to Ashok, pulling him up into another comforting hug.

“I’m so sorry about Pankaj, Ashok. No one should have to go through grief like that at your age, especially in secret, with no one around to comfort you. I am so happy the boys decided to get you out of that situation, not just because I see how much happiness you brought into my son’s life, but because it was the right thing to do.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Diggory. I am very glad as well.  I was not unhappy at the Al Qasimi house when Pankaj was there, but once he was gone it became a prison with no hope of escape, because I had nowhere to go.  Rick, Greg, Vince and Dré rescued me from that fate, and being with Rick showed me that I could love again.  It is not I who brought him happiness; we brought happiness to each other.”

Mum turned her head to look knowingly at my father, and somehow I was certain they were communicating about their past, their chance meeting that had brought both of them happiness as well.

“Well, I certainly never thought this day would come,” my father said seriously, causing all three of us to look at him with surprise.

“What do you mean, Dad?” I asked, somewhat defensively.

“It’s just that, well, I’ve spent my entire career taking care never to be indebted for anything to Lucius Malfoy and his ilk, and now, it seems, he is at least in part responsible for my son’s happiness,” he cracked a smile and Mum and I sighed in relief, though Ashok still looked confused. “I find it hard to believe he actually went out of his way to do the right thing and arrange for the visa, but I can’t argue with his methods in this case. There’s nothing that can be done about it now, Gemma, we just have to be thankful for the miserable sod.”

I chuckled. “I don’t think he’s expecting a thank you note, Dad. In fact, if you wrote one I doubt he’d know what you were talking about. Though it was good of him to arrange for the visitor’s visa and then to convert that into a student’s visa from within the UK, so that Ashok didn’t have to go back to India as he normally would have.”

“What’s this about a student visa?” by then Mum had released my boyfriend and they were both back sitting at the table.

“Ashok recently discovered that he loves cooking, and he has a real talent for it.  He’s very interested in attending culinary school, and since the Cordon Bleu has a London campus, we thought he may as well attend the best school.  For now he’s studying at David Game College for his GCSEs in English and Maths. They have small class sizes and we thought this would be a good way for Ashok to ease back into academia.  He stopped going to school in India at fourteen, so it’s been a while, and obviously things are different here.”

“When will you sit for exams, Ashok?” Dad asked.

“In June, Sir. I do enjoy my classes and the other students.  When I’m not in class I study, and everyone helps me with things I don’t understand by myself.”

“Not that there’s much you don’t understand by yourself.  The guys and I haven’t had to do much. Ashok has been doing great in his studies.  He even joined a study group at school. He’ll be ready to sit for the exams in no time,” I said with pride. “In the meantime, he’s also thinking about taking some individual classes at the Cordon Bleu.  They wouldn’t count towards his certificate, but they would give him a good foundation and introduce him to the instructors.  It may help him gain acceptance later.”

Ashok nodded enthusiastically. “I would love to take a real class with a master chef instructor. I am sure I would learn much, even in one course.”

No one at the table missed the eagerness and excitement in his eyes.

“How wonderful that you found a vocation you love,” Mum gushed. “I’m no gourmet, but I do like cooking.  Perhaps you and I can work together to whip up a nice dinner tomorrow night or Saturday?” she offered.

“I would like that very much,” Ashok said with a beaming smile. “I sometimes cook and grill with Viktor in London. I am not very skilled yet, but…”

“Don’t believe him, Mum,” I interrupted his self-deprecation. “He’s a natural in the kitchen and he’s learned loads by reading magazines and watching cooking shows on the telly.  Viktor even taught him how to cook some Bulgarian dishes.”

“And how is our resident Bulgarian Gordon Ramsey?” Dad asked.  “Off the pitch, that is.  I’ve been following Arsenal, so I know how they’re doing.”

“And how are Greg and Helena?  And Vincent and Draco?” Mum threw in.

“Greg, Viktor and Helena are doing great. Viktor is having a fantastic season.  Being captain suits him well.  Vince and Dré are also fine.  Dré has been campaigning with his parents.  He hates it, but that was part of the bargain he made with his father when we needed the visa for Ashok.”

“Dré sacrificed a lot for me before he even knew me.  Now he has to do something he hates and be away from Vince. I do not know what I can do to repay him.”

I rolled my eyes. “You give him too much credit, Ashok.  Believe me, Dré may not like his father’s politics or even his father, but he would have campaigned with him anyway.  His mother would have seen to that,” I told him, not for the first time. “And you already have repaid him, many times over, with all the gourmet meals you prepared for him and Vince.  I think Dré may have actually gained a pound or two,” I said for my mother’s benefit.

“That is a very good thing!” Mum decreed, patting Ashok’s hand in approval. “That boy has always been much too thin. Takes after his mother, I suppose. And Cedric is right, Ashok Dear. Dré has always campaigned for his father in the past, and I expect he would have done so this year as well, regardless of your visa.  I confess I do not know the Malfoys very well, but I do know that Narcissa Malfoy always gets her way. I have no doubt she pushed Lucius to arrange for your visa.”

“I wish Narcissa Malfoy was standing for MP instead of her dreadful husband,” Dad complained. “She seems the  more reasonable of the two, and far less likely to do that charlatan Riddle’s bidding.  Malfoy makes pretence of being in control, but when Riddle says jump, he asks how high? Spineless lackey, that’s what he is. The whole lot of them.  And unfortunately, after this business with the security at the Olympics and the Cabinet scandal, Riddle’s party’s is almost assured a victory. I’m sure he must have been planning for this for some time.  Wouldn’t surprise me if he leaked the scandal information to the press at a convenient time just to force the no confidence vote.”

I noted my father’s bitterness and nodded my agreement.  Unfortunately, we all suspected he was right about the result of the elections, and none of us were pleased about it.  There was, however, little to be done.

“Don’t get yourself all worked up, Amos. This talk of politics will only spoil our weekend.  This country survived Hitler’s blitz.  We can certainly survive a few years of Riddle at Number Ten.”

“You’re right, Gemma, absolutely right.  I suppose, in a way, I should be grateful to Malfoy for this as well, in so far as this election sped up my decision.”

“What decision is that, Dad?”  I asked, confused.

He reached for my mother’s hand. “I’ve decided to retire, Son. I originally thought I would hang on and keep working a few more years, until the 2015 election perhaps, but this turn of events has convinced me it’s time to hang up the ambassador hat.”

“Dad, are you sure?” My father was certainly old enough to retire, but I knew he loved his work and I hated for him to go before he was ready simply because of the outcome of one election.

“I’m quite certain, my boy.  If I stay, there is no telling if I’ll get to keep my post.  Riddle may decide to reassign me to some far flung corner of the world, and your mother already complains that we are too far away from you. Even if nothing changes, I can only imagine the mess he and his policies are going to cause globally, and I’d rather not be forced to defend or endorse his policies, when I’m sure I won’t support them myself. As I said, in a couple of years I would have retired anyway.  This will just make your mother happier sooner.”

“It’s true, Cedric,” Mum echoed. “We are both ready to settle down and enjoy our golden years. We’ll be that much closer to you and able to see you far more frequently.  See the both of you, I mean,” she added, looking at Ashok.

“But won’t you be bored?” I looked out the kitchen window, where I could see the garden and the wood beyond.  The cottage was in a pleasant spot, to be sure, but my parents were far more used to urban surroundings all across the globe.

“Oh, no,” my mother laughed. “We have so many things we’ve been putting off until retirement, you see. Your father plans to write a book, and I have some lovely stitchery to do. Not to mention we mean to travel, around England, that is.  We’ve been all over the world but we hardly know our own homeland.”

“It sounds like I’m worried for nothing. I should have known you had a plan.”

“Indeed, Darling. But then children often underestimate their parents,” she reached over my shoulder to muss my hair, the way she used to when I was a boy. I moved my head out of the way, but still smiled at the memories.

“Are we all done with tea, then?” Mum asked, looking around to see us all nodding. “Excellent! May I suggest that you show Ashok around while I clean up?  Afterwards we can decide if we want to drive or walk into town for dinner. It will be a cool evening, but if we dress properly it may be a very pleasant stroll.  The sky will be clear and the moon bright.”

“I’ll help you clean up, my Dear,” Dad offered. “I’m quite sure Cedric is more than capable of showing Ashok the house and grounds without the old man slowing them down.”

“Dad, you’re as fit as I am,” I protested, but didn’t bother to otherwise dissuade him from what was obviously his ploy to give Ashok and me some time alone.

I enjoyed showing Ashok the rest of the downstairs as well as the garden behind the house. Afterwards we took our bags up to my bedroom, where the double bed had been made ready for us with fresh sheets.

“Where will I sleep?” Ashok asked, still holding onto his bag even after I had laid mine down my on the bench at the foot of the bed.

“Right beside me, as always, preferably in the bed,” I teased him and leaned over to kiss him. “Where else, silly boy?”

“I thought...,” he paused, uncertain. “I imagine here, in your parents’ home, we would sleep in different rooms.  We are not married,” he stammered, “and this is only one bed.”

“Ashok, we already told my parents we live together and have for months. Do you think they do not know that we sleep together?”

“There is the sofa in your flat.  We did sleep apart at one time.”

I laughed. “Yes, one time.  It was just the one night, remember? My parents may not say anything about it, but they know we are two adult men with adult men’s needs. They expect us to sleep together, and if they did not, then we would get a room at one of the inns in town.  I wouldn’t let anyone keep us apart, not even my parents.”

I took the bag from his hand and laid it on the bench beside mine. Then I tipped up his chin and kissed him, softly but deeply.

“I love you, Ashy, and I won’t ever let anyone get between us,” I told him firmly.

“I love you too,” Ashok said, his voice strained with emotion. He slipped his arms around my waist and pulled himself into me for a tight hug.  “And I love your parents and your friends.  I love every part of our life together!”

“I’m so glad, because I feel exactly the same way.”

We ended up walking to town and having dinner at The Duke of Wellington. The few locals who were dining there waved hello but mostly kept a respectful distance, all but one couple who came over to the table to introduce themselves to us in person. My parents were used to being the local celebrities, but remained friendly and did not abuse the status. After we learned that the couple were the Taylors and lived within a five minutes’ walk of the inn, my mother introduced first Dad and herself, and then her, “Son, Cedric, and his partner, Ashok.” The Taylors were obviously somewhat taken aback at first, but recovered quickly and gave us all smiles as we chatted for a few moments about the pleasant weather.  They departed when the waiter brought over our starters and we were undisturbed for the rest of the evening. On the way back, Dad walked with Ashok, reminiscing about his time in India, while Mum and I walked behind them, her arm looped through mine.

“I like Ashok very much, Cedric,” she told me when she was confident that they were out of earshot. “But you should have told us about him sooner.  I’ve been so worried about you since the last time we saw you.”

“I’m sorry about that, Mum.  I know I should have said something sooner, but I really wanted for you to meet him in person first. But I do apologise for worrying you needlessly.  The last time... It was a rough spot in my life.  I was seeing someone, you see, but...” I paused, wondering why I’d started down this path.  There were some things that parents just shouldn’t know.  I did not want my mother to have a bad opinion of me, and how could she not if I told her about H.

“But what, darling?” she prompted. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“Perhaps not this,” I hedged.

“All right. Regardless of what happened, I’m glad it’s over now and you found someone who obviously cares for you as much as you care for him.

“We do care for each other, very much. Being with him is like a breath of fresh air.  He is so open, and trusting, and sweet. It makes me happy just to be near him. He thinks we saved his life, but Mum, I think he saved mine. Not literally, of course, but I was in a dark place, as you well know.”

“I remember, Cedric, and that’s why seeing you together today made me feel so much better, and your father as well. While you were showing Ashok around earlier we had a talk, and we both agree he is a lovely boy. I know this may be a bit premature, but should you wish to register as civil partners, we could hold a ceremony and reception here, either in the village or at our house. If he was your partner, Ashok’s visa status would be immaterial,” Mum pointed out.

I stopped and kissed both her cheeks, touched by her immediate acceptance. “I don’t think we’re there yet, but I can see us registering a partnership in due course, and certainly not just because of Ashok’s immigration status. But thank you for making the offer. Your and Dad’s support means so much to me.”

“Well, Dear, that’s something you will always have, but in this instance it is very easy to give,” she said, returning my embrace.

The rest of the weekend went better than I could have possibly expected.  For a small village, Bourton-on-the-Water had quite a few tourist attractions and my parents wanted us to visit them all.  We went to Birdland so Ashok could see the only King Penguin exhibit in England, walked through the Dragonfly Maze and visited the Model Village, a one-ninth scale exact replica of Bourton-on-the-Water in the 1930s, built out of local stone and complete with its own miniature model village and bonsai tree and shrub landscaping. Ashok loved it all, and he enjoyed when, on Saturday, we took the car and visited a few of the nearby villages on our own before returning to the house where Mum, who had gone to the supermarket while we were gone, was ready for the two of them to start cooking dinner. After the umpteenth time Ashok called her Mrs. Diggory and my father, Sir, she gently asked if he wouldn’t mind calling them Mum and Dad.

“I know we all just met, Dear, but I have this feeling we’ll reach this point sooner or later, so why not get it right from the start?”

Ashok looked to me, clearly emotional but uncertain.

“Is it okay, Rick?”

“I think it’s great, Ashy,” I said encouragingly. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I... I will try,” he promised.

“Perfect!” Mum smiled and just like that, Ashok was one of the family.

That night I set the table in the garden.  It was an unusually warm autumn evening, and we had all agreed to take advantage of the remnants of pleasant weather to dine outdoors. When I was done I turned back to look into the house through the kitchen window, where I saw Mum and Ashok chatting amiably as they finished cooking our meal.  At one point, Mum paused what she was doing and spontaneously pulled Ashy into a hug, bringing a big smile to my face.  I suddenly felt more at peace than I ever had before, and I realised that what I had always been missing before was this ability to share the man I loved with my parents. My father came out, carrying a couple of brandy snifters.  He joined me in my observation, handing me one of the filled glasses.

“Those two are certainly getting on well, aren’t they?” he asked rhetorically.

“Ashok just naturally charms everyone around him.” I stated the incontrovertible truth.

“Perhaps, but in this case you seem to have charmed him as much as he did you.  I know your mother already shared this with you, but let me reiterate how much we both like Ashok and how much we like seeing you so happy with him.”

I glanced in his direction, so appreciative of having a father who not only accepted me for who I was and was equally accepting of my partner, but was also willing to openly share his feelings.

“Thanks, Dad.  I appreciate so much the way you and Mum have made him feel welcome,” I said, taking a sip of the brandy.

“Of course, Son.  And before we get called in to help carry out the food, I wanted to tell you that I’ve never been more proud of you.  First, you did the right thing in rescuing a stranger from dire circumstances, and then you left yourself open to a possibility of a new relationship. To be honest, when I saw you last I was afraid you were not ready to do that.  You seemed so withdrawn and closed off. I’m thrilled to know that I was wrong, and that Ashok managed to crack through that wall you seemed to have built up around your heart.”

“Ashok is small but mighty,” I joked. “He is always gentle, but he is persistent, and his arguments are irrefutable.  He is like a bulldozer of logic.  After a while even I recognised that resistance was futile, and once he broke through, there was no going back. I love him and he loves me, and I truly believe we are going to be together forever, like you and Mum. Nothing in my life before has ever felt this strong and this right.” As I spoke, I immediately knew I was right.  What I’d felt for H. was powerful, but it rested on a shaky, one-sided foundation that made it lack stability and longevity. With Ashok I had no doubts, only a life partner who would stand with me no matter what.

“Here’s to you and Ashok,” my father said, touching his brandy glass to mine.  We both took a swallow of the hand-warmed brandy.

“You know, there is something your mother and I discussed, and I realize it may be a bit premature, but in the interest of you having all the information...” he paused, seemingly questioning whether he should continue. I was confused. I couldn’t imagine any topic that would have made my father so hesitant.

“What is it, Dad?”

“Well, we know you and Ashok have not been together long, and we certainly do not mean to suggest that you should be making any life-altering decisions, but we were thinking about what would happen after Ashok finished his education. It’s difficult to obtain a work permit here and we certainly have no shortage of chefs.  Another visitor’s visa would be an answer and I suppose between me and Lucius we can ensure that these get renewed for quite some time, but Ashok may not be satisfied with just cooking for you and your friends at home, and at some point Riddle’s party will hopefully be voted out of office and my influence may diminish.”

I frowned. “You’re right, Dad. This is a little premature. We haven’t thought that far ahead. Are you saying you’re worried Ashok may not be able to stay with me? I wouldn’t let that happen. We’d register as civil partners.  They couldn’t make a citizen’s partner leave, could they?”

“No, but as a non EU foreign national, in order to register as your civil partner Ashok needs a proper visa,” he explained. I groaned.  This was definitely not something I’d thought about.

“What kind of visa would he need?”

“He’d need a Proposed Civil Partnership Visa.  It’s not a problem as long as he’s here on a student visa, because that visa can easily be converted.  After he graduates, however, if he goes back to a visitor’s visa, the conversion would be more difficult. Technically he would have to apply for a Proposed Civil Partnership visa from outside the country, though Malfoy or I could probably do something to get that requirement waived.”

“So do you suggest changing his visa status now? How long can the proposal period last? Ashok and I haven’t even talked about a civil partnership yet.  Not that I think he’d object, but it’s a serious commitment. I don’t think either of us would want to jump into that lightly.”

“Like I said, there’s no need to rush. It’s just that we can see how you and Ashok look at each other and we like him very much and we just thought you needed to know the facts. I reviewed the requirements last night. I’m afraid I wasn’t as familiar with civil partnership regulations as I should be. In any event, even if Ashok had the right visa and you register your partnership immediately, there is still a five year process to follow before he is granted an indefinite stay.  The sooner his visa is modified, the sooner that clock starts, but with the student visa Ashok will be fine until he graduates from culinary school.”

“Wow, Dad, thanks for all the information,” I took a deep breath. “It is a little early for us to be talking about something this serious.  And I’m not sure how I would even bring it up.  I don’t want him to think he needs to be my partner just to stay in the country.”

“The subject will come up naturally when and if you’re both ready to discuss it. But again, you have plenty of time to figure it all out. We just thought it would be good if you had the immigration facts,” he said before draining his glass. “Well, might as well go in there before they have a chance to call us.  Score some bonus points,” he nudged me playfully with his elbow and started walking towards the house.

“I’ll be there in just a minute, Dad,” I said, needing a moment alone. When he was gone I too finished my brandy and smiled again as I watched him join Mum and Ashok in the kitchen.  Dad had given me quite a bit to think about, but I found I wasn’t freaked out at the prospect of registering with Ashok as civil partners.  In fact, I quickly warmed to the idea, realizing I already thought of him as my partner. Registration would be a mere formality. The good news was that I now knew we had our parents’ blessings. I had hoped they would all get along, but in my wildest dreams I couldn’t have imagined we’d get this kind of stamp of approval.

Inside the house, Mum and Ashok were discussing something, their heads bent close together, while Dad, like me, observed with an indulgent smile. For the first time I understood the meaning behind that smile. It was a smile of a man well satisfied with his life, and it was a feeling I now shared. I had my partner, my gay family and my real family, all in alignment and balance.  My life was absolutely brilliant, and I owed it all to the boy who fell into my life through a strange twist of fate. I thought about Jasper, how once I imagined I might be sharing this with him.  That was obviously not meant to be, and yet had it not been for him we would have never met Emmett, and we would have never taken a trip to Dubai where I found my true soul mate. I raised my eyes to the canopy of stars above and said a quick thanks to Jasper and to whichever gods or guardian angels had been watching over me and sent Ashok to me at just the perfect time. I took a deep breath of the fresh country air and went to join my family inside.

In the kitchen, Mum was supervising as Dad took the stuffed pork roast out of the oven, while Ashok arranged the herbed mashed potatoes on a serving platter set on the counter next to the already prepared mixed salad.

“Ah, Cedric, you’re just in time.  Please get the salad dressing out of the refrigerator. It’s in the white sauce boat, the one with the small ladle,” Mum instructed. I retrieved the dressing and placed it on the counter next to the salad.  Then I took the now empty pot away from Ashok and set it back on the hob before turning to him and taking him in my arms. Ignoring my parents and his surprised expression, I gave him a deep, slow kiss, until I felt him relax and give himself over to my embrace.

“I just needed to do that, Ashy, and to tell you that I love you and I’m so happy you’re here with me. I’m so happy we’re all here together,” I said, looking away from him to my parents.

“Oh, Cedric,” Mum gushed and came over to hug the both of us, with Dad following on her heels. I stood there, embracing the three people I loved most in the world, feeling content and complete.  For the first time I felt my life was exactly as it was meant to be.