A matter of pride

Chapter 6

Dillon looked at his reflection again and wondered whether he should have made more of an effort. Or possibly less of one. It wasn't a proper date after all. In fact, twenty-four hours ago he'd been adamant that he didn't want to date anyone, and here he was, getting himself all worked up over dinner with his neighbour. He wondered whether Lizzy would be furious or delighted. She'd begged him to go out on that second date with Craig and it was only her pleading and nagging that had made Dillon agree to the third, and now, without much trying and absolutely no begging, he'd managed to set up a dinner for two with a ridiculously attractive man who he genuinely liked.It seemed too good to be true, that someone so charming and kind would be interested in him, and he'd spent the afternoon swinging between nervous excitement and suspicion because David was still police, so there was still a chance that this was all a ruse, or a set up. It was why he'd started cooking, to take his mind off things, but that hadn't worked out quite like he'd planned and was exactly how he'd ended up with the accidental dinner date. He'd only wanted to be neighbourly, because he knew David had a long drive home and probably didn't have a lot of food in his fridge. And because, honestly, as much as he was good with needle and thread, and seemed to have a multitude of skills, Dillon suspected that David wasn't that great in the kitchen. He'd looked nervous about peeling veg the previous evening so Dillon had thought he might appreciate another home cooked meal, and he really hadn't meant for their texts to turn as flirty as they had.Not that he really minded. For all his grousing about wanting to be left alone and not wanting to meet anyone new, he'd found himself enjoying the casual back and forth with David, and the squeeze in his chest that he'd previously only associated with Sam. That thought had put a bit of a shadow over things, but Dillon had pushed it aside. He'd deal with those feelings later, he decided, but not today. Today he actually wanted to be happy, and Sam would want him to be happy too, he figured. Sam had always just wanted him to be happy.A sound like the crunch of car tyres on the loose stone of the verge made his heart jump suddenly and he headed to the window as fast as he could to see who was there, but it was hard to see much in the fading light. The sun had already sunk behind the trees and there were no streetlights out on their street. He thought for a moment that he saw a white car or ute parked out on the other side of the road and down a way but he couldn't be sure, and didn't want to get himself worked up in to a panic over nothing, didn't want to ruin his good mood with useless paranoia. He double checked the locks though, just to be sure, and pulled the curtains across the windows, but still jumped when his phone beeped at him.'I've just stopped at bottle-o for wine. Do you have a preference?'Dillon grinned and tried to steady his breathing. He still couldn't quite believe they were about to have dinner together, as if they were old friends rather than brand new acquaintances, and he felt a blush spread across his cheeks as he pictured David wandering about the bottle shop, thinking of Dillon and what he might like.'Not really. A red would be best but I'm easy.'The blush increased as he read back over his own words and realised what he'd just sent. Oh god, had he really just told the guy he was easy? He put the phone down on the table and began to pace awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair and completely messing up the style he'd spent ages trying to get just right, and couldn't even slow down when his leg began to protest at being so ill used. He didn't want David to think he was easy, didn't want to give off that sort of vibe, didn't even know whether he wanted to actually date the guy, not really! Dating and relationships were complicated and painful but so, apparently, was texting, when it was Dillon doing it.His phone beeped again but he hesitated in checking it. He was being stupid, he knew that, but still couldn't stop his brain from listing off all the possible negative outcomes. He finally limped to the table when his phone beeped a second time and was flooded with relief when he saw the replies.'I'm easy with wine too. The guy working here gave me his recommendation so I'm just going with that.''On my way to yours now. ETA 5 min.'Five minutes. He had five minutes. The house was already clean enough and the food was warm and ready to go. He hadn't set the table because he didn't want it to seem like anything too formal or something more than two neighbours having a late dinner together and there really wasn't much else to do except wait for David to show up, which basically just gave him five minutes of dedicated anxiety time. He checked on the food again instead, and got two plates and two glasses down from the shelf, and then realised, just as he heard footsteps on the porch, that he'd been running his fingers through his hair again and probably looked a complete mess. There was no time to fix it, there was a knock on the door and he didn't want to keep David waiting in case he thought Dillon had fallen on the stairs or something and tried to burst in, so he hobbled over as quickly as he could and just prayed that he didn't look too much like a scarecrow in a high wind, and that David wouldn't be disappointed.*David really hadn't known what to expect when Dillon answered the door. He'd quite genuinely thought he'd be met with a suspicious glare through a crack in the door, but instead the door opened wide and he found himself face to face with the most ridiculously attractive man and his body immediately flushed, as if he'd suddenly developed a fever, one which rendered him mute as well as hot with desire. He'd only really seen Dillon in track pants and comfortable house clothes but now he stood before David like a rock star in slim fit jeans, striped shirt with sleeves rolled fashionably just above the elbow, and a black waistcoat. His hair was artfully tousled and David felt horribly untidy in his creased trousers and shirt. He had a sweat patch under each arm and a stain on his thigh from his rushed attempt at lunch and had apparently just knocked on the door of a genuine angel in human form. He wanted to say something complimentary but still couldn't seem to speak, or even think of something to say. At which point Dillon Kelly smiled at him, head tilted and chin out like he wasn't at all aware of how he looked, and David worried he'd never be able to draw breath again, let alone say hello. When he felt his trousers begin to tighten he wanted to scream at his body for being a traitor and desperately thrust the wine out in front of him, hoping it would be enough of a distraction as he mumbled hello."Hey, cheers," Dillon said softly and as he took the bottle their fingers touched, which didn't help David one bit, and he practically stumbled in to the house when Dillon stepped back to let him through.The clicks of the locks sliding back in to place brought him down to earth a bit, and as he watched Dillon walk unsteadily toward the kitchen, holding tight to his cane for support, David was able to wrestle some control back; at least enough to follow the man through to the kitchen and actually find his voice."It smells amazing in here," he murmured, which was a masterful understatement but the best he could manage at short notice, and Dillon gave him another smile, wider this time, as he lifted the lid from one of the pots on the stove."My gran was Hungarian," he explained, "and she, she insisted on teaching me to cook, even though it pissed my dad off no end. He, um, didn't want me doing girly stuff. He wanted me to be a sportsman and spend all my free time playing football and cricket and soccer. Even animals were considered too, um, feminine in his house. I played A grade cricket but it still wasn't enough for him... sorry.""Why?" The words had all tumbled out in a rush and David could see that Dillon was embarrassed because he'd angled his face away and a faint blush had spread across his cheeks. What David really wanted was to cross the kitchen and give the man a hug but that probably wasn't appropriate right then so he settled for using his gentlest tone of voice, to try and indicate that he wasn't about to judge or laugh. "What's wrong?"Dillon looked up, his eyes searching David's face carefully before he spoke. "I, um, I was rambling. That's all." He shrugged. "But, um, the food's ready so I'll dish up if you want to pour the wine?""Sure thing," David agreed and made himself busy with the cork. "You know I used to play A grade in school as well. I was mad about cricket, but I'm Indian so it's sort of compulsory, you know. I should really get back in to it. D'you still play at all?"The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and Dillon turned to him with eyebrows raised, a plate of goulash and mash in one hand and his cane in the other."Um, not so much," he said wryly. "I'm not as quick on my feet as I used to be." David winced at the words and nodded but looked up when he heard Dillon chuckle. "It's no big deal, seriously. Take your dinner though 'cos I can't carry more than one thing at a time."The conversation flowed more smoothly after that, although mostly David found himself raving about the food and talking about his family. Dillon didn't seem bored by the domestic subject matter however, and laughed and teased and declared that he needed to meet David's sisters because they sounded hilarious."I can't let you," David said with a laugh of his own as they sat together, bowls empty and most of the wine gone. "They'll tell you too many embarrassing stories about me. And they have photographs," he explained dramatically. "Very incriminating photographs from my youth that must never be seen. You meet my sisters and you'll love them and never want to see me again and that would be... disappointing, to say the least."He was aware that the two glasses of wine had loosened his tongue, and that he was looking at Dillon in a way that was probably a little personal, but he just couldn't help it. It was the truth. Even the thought of losing Dillon made him feel melancholy and he was willing to do almost anything to ensure it didn't happen. He'd fallen in deep, he realised, and had no desire to climb back out. Sure, there was a chance he'd be gone in a week or two, but there was also a chance that the killer would continue to be elusive. Who knew, really, how long he'd be around?"I don't think I'm going anywhere in a hurry," Dillon told him softly, looking up through his lashes. "I haven't felt this calm and happy in ages. Not since-" he paused and David watched as his large, expressive eyes seemed to fall under a shadow. "Not since before my, um, accident, I guess.""It was pretty bad, huh?"David felt a pang of guilt as he asked the question. He already knew most of what had happened but couldn't let on that he did without sparking Dillon's ever present suspicion. He could see it in the back of the man's eyes as he weighed his words carefully, trying to decide what he was ready to share."It was a, um, it was a... hit-and-run. Um. My boyfriend, Sam, and me were, were on our bikes, going over a, um, a, a, bridge, when a car came up behind us. We both ended up in the river. Sam ..."David watched as a tear trembled for a second and then fell, trickling down Dillon's cheek while the rest of his face seemed a frozen mask of pain. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't let the man suffer on his own without any sort of comfort, and before he could rethink his decision he had jumped from his chair, rushed around the table, and pulled the crying man in to a tight hug. Dillon didn't resist. He simply clung to David as his tears flowed and a wet patch formed on David's shirt. He closed his eyes and saw again the file, details of the incident written out so dispassionately, even for a police report. He had assumed, when they'd first met and he'd seen Dillon's limp, that it had been a superficial and recent injury. Reading the details of the report had set him straight, and made him feel sick with sympathy. He wasn't sure that he would have survived it himself, and the need to protect Dillon was so strong he worried it would rip him apart.Judging the best moment to loosen his arms was difficult and David wanted to get it just right because, while Dillon was currently appreciating the embrace, he didn't want to hold on past the point where the man was comfortable. He loosened his grip slightly but didn't step away, and it was a few more minutes before Dillon sniffed and moved back, turning his head to hide his face. David didn't want him to feel any shame for crying but couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound like standard police jargon. What he wanted was to take the man's face in his hands and kiss his pain away and show him that there was not need to hide, not from him, but they were still only newly acquainted and pushing Dillon's boundaries and forcing intimacy on him would be vastly irresponsible. Even the hug might have been too much, but he felt they'd both needed it, and he didn't regret offering the comfort."Dillon, I'm so sorry," he said eventually. "You don't have to talk about it. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. It's none of my business. I am so, so sorry."He watched as Dillon nodded, his breathing harsh and uneven, but could think of nothing else helpful to say so settled for rubbing his arm instead, something his dad had always done for him when he was upset and there was no one else around to offer comfort."I'm, I'm sorry," Dillon whispered eventually. "I've been a mess this week. I used to be, um, such a 'Boys don't cry' kind of person, you know? But now I'm lucky if I make it day without collapsing in a puddle of tears.""It's good for you though," David told him gently, giving his arm a squeeze."It's rubbish," Dillon answered back vehemently, and David couldn't stop the puff of laughter that escaped his lips."That's as may be," he said with a nod. "But from what I've seen in this world, of grief and loss and pain... It takes a while for it to all come out, but it does hurt a little less with time.""You sound like my physiotherapist," Dillon told him in lighter tone, and he looked away with a quick smile. "She was always telling me to give myself more time. But to be honest, I'm not that good at being patient.""Me neither," David agreed, stepping back with an answering smile. "Like, for instance, I distinctly recall you mentioning bananas and dessert and I cannot wait to taste more of your cooking."Dillon's grin at that was all David had hoped for and he fetched plates and forks while Dillon went to the fridge and returned with a banana caramel pie that immediately set his mouth to watering. He steered the conversation clear of anything he thought could set Dillon off after that and eventually the redness faded from around the man's eyes and lips. By the time he started telling anecdotes from his university days, including Lizzy's first run in with an angry snake, which she had greeted with the words "Hello Love!" they were both relaxed and laughing again.David knew that really he should have tried to ask Dillon more about the accident, and about his claim at the time, that the driver of the car that ran him off the bridge had swerved toward them a few minutes before, after seeing Dillon and Sam share a kiss at a red light. Dillon's statement suggested that the driver of the car had been aggressive, and that they had caught up with him several times at traffic lights, and that, to Dillon's mind, the behaviour had only started after he and his boyfriend had kissed. David knew that there was no real way for him to corroborate Dillon's version of events and that there was a chance that Dillon's belief that the hit and run had been a deliberate attack was simply a perceived link, not a true fact. But there was still a chance that there was more to it than that, and David was aware that really he should have tried to get more information out of the man when he had been so close to giving it up. But it had seemed wrong and as he watched Dillon smile he stood by his decision not to push things. Tomorrow would be another busy day but he resolved to make time in it somewhere for Dillon. Especially, he told himself, now that he knew that the dating site Dillon had been using to meet men was the same one that had been used by at least two of the victims.Yet his brain whispered that it wasn't the real reason he felt compelled to see Dillon and spend time with him. He'd fallen for the man and he couldn't deny it. He'd never met someone so captivating in both body and mind, so intriguing and courageous and kind, and so lovable. It was frightening and he had his misgivings, because mixing his work and his private life was far from a sensible move, but he was in too deep now and was almost sure that Dillon felt the same. He couldn't be the one to cause the man more pain. He would just need to tread carefully. But that was all tomorrow. Tonight all he had to worry about was whether he could physically manage another slice of pie, and whether he should do the gentlemanly thing and volunteer to do the dishes.*Dillon opened his eyes and stared at the patterns the morning light was making on the ceiling. Had he really cried in David Sharma's arms last night? Had he really... He sat up abruptly in bed, bare chest heaving as he thought back over the events of the previous night and as he put it all back in to place, and the details came back in to focus, he brought his fingers tentatively to his cheek.They'd had a really wonderful night, just talking and laughing and getting to know one another more. Their friendship was still only new but Dillon couldn't say any more that they were only acquaintances, or strangers. Not now. The hour had been late when they'd finally decided to call it a night and Dillon had been so tired yet so desperate for the night not to end. Eventually David had made the call. He had an early morning coming, not because he was a morning person, he told Dillon, but because Finlay, the officer who'd been assigned to show him the ropes for the next week, was very much a morning person and insisted on calling him in the early hours to let him know that she'd already been for a run, cleaned the house, opened up the station, and personally brought down two crooks, all before David had managed his first cup of coffee.He'd looked so unimpressed as he'd said it, as if even the thought of waking up triggered his grouchy, non-morning person mode, and Dillon'd had to laugh. But he'd also realised that he was getting a glimpse of what it would be like to wake up beside David, and see him first thing, and suddenly he'd been blushing furiously and getting antsy all over again, like he had when the guy had appeared at his door looking roguish and disheveled with his untucked shirt and curls flying all over. It had been an effort to keep his urges in check and not kiss him then and there, but he knew better than to try and rush things and a few flirtatious texts weren't enough to convince him that his very new feelings would be reciprocated. Still, he'd wanted to, and the feeling had increased as the hours passed, because David Sharma really did seem too good to be true. When Dillon rambled or stuttered or his words petered out or he just plain didn't have and words, David hadn't rolled his eyes or been annoyed, and it had felt, for those few hours, as if he'd finally found someone who understood him again, and it had brought all sorts of emotions bubbling to the surface.The crying had definitely been embarrassing though, but David had handled that like a pro too. Which was probably because he was a decent cop and therefore really was a professional when it came to making people feel safe when things were tough. He wished it had been David there after his accident, he might have made Dillon feel like it was actually going to be okay, and that he wasn't an idiot for feeling like the whole thing had been more than an accidental hit-and-run. David might have actually tried to find the person responsible for Sam's death.He'd even contemplated telling David everything and asking him to look in to the case but had stopped himself. He hadn't wanted to ruin their evening and David probably couldn't look in to a death in another city, there were probably jurisdiction issues or something. But he'd thought about it, and he'd been surprised by that, because he had never thought he'd meet a cop he could trust. Just like he'd never thought he'd meet a man who he actually wanted to know better, who made him excited and aroused and lost for words and ... then David had appeared.When the time for goodbyes had finally come Dillon had walked him to the door under the pretense of locking up after him but really so that he could spend a few more moments beside him, so close their arms brushed against one another's as they walked. And David had turned to him, in the doorway, and thanked him, and Dillon had thanked him for the company, and it had all been very nice but a little awkward. And then Dillon had gone to give David a hug, because the last one had been so good, but David had pressed a kiss to his cheek instead. And Dillon's whole world had begun to spin.It was the smallest thing, a peck on the cheek and no more, and when he'd pulled back David's eyes had been wide, as if he had only just realised what he'd done. It made Dillon wonder if this was something he did habitually, with family and close friends, and what that could mean for their own budding friendship, but he didn't ask. He just stood there, like a stunned mullet, staring at the man's lips. He licked his own, suddenly realising how dry they'd become as he stood there, breathing so heavily, and as if in answer David had leaned in again, to lay the most delicate kiss to the corner of Dillon's mouth.Dillon had been ready to jump him at that point, but he didn't get the chance. David had stepped back and reminded Dillon to lock his doors and call straight away if he had any trouble, and then he was gone, out in to the dark, and Dillon still hadn't caught his breath.He'd locked the door and wondered if sexual frustration counted as having trouble but decided not to call. He didn't want to ruin things with cheap jokes or failed booty calls. David was special and he wanted to test the waters a bit before he jumped in. He'd thought sleeping would be difficult, considering how worked up he felt, but the exhaustion of the last few days won out and he was asleep almost as soon as his head his the pillow.He turned now to look out at the crisp morning. The magpies were warbling and the sticky heat of the day hadn't really kicked in, which meant it was still early. Feeling a grin break out across his face he rolled over and grabbed his mobile from the bedside cupboard. With any luck he could be the first thing David Sharma thought of when he woke too.'You up?' he texted quickly, trying to imagine the look on David's face if the message had managed to wake him.He snorted at the double entendre as he looked down at his own morning stiffy and settled himself back down under the covers. He hadn't woken up happy in the longest time and he intended to make it last.