Husband Material (London Calling, #2)

by Alexis Hall

“How reassuring.” He was giving me an arch look, but he seemed to be listening. “Not like that. I just… You know you think about things differently from me. About life, about the law. Hell”—I speared a piece of rotolo and waved it at him—“even about food. I don’t want to be in a relationship with somebody I always agree with.” “I’m not sure that being vegan is the same as processing my identity in a way you can’t access.” “Isn’t it, though?” I asked, hoping my double or nothing was going to come down double, not nothing. “It’s not like being gay—being the kind of gay where you don’t wear rainbows or go on marches—” “I go on marches, Lucien. It’s parties I have trouble with, not protests.” “Okay, but I mean, I don’t think being gay is more important to you than…” I waved my hands in a tight little circle “…all the rest of it. Like, you actually care about shit. Way more shit than I care about. And that doesn’t mean you’re letting the other side down or anything. It makes you like…like a thousand-piece Moomin jigsaw with a wolf in a wig.” Oliver stared blankly at me. Which I probably deserved. “Sorry. My mum’s randomly got into jigsaws and maybe the Moomins? I should have just said you’re complicated, but all the bits make a nice picture.” He thought about this for a long time. Then gave up. “Thank you. I think?” “Oliver, I’m sorry.” I tried again. “I never meant to make you feel that I thought you were, you know, doing gay wrong. Or that you had to be like me. Any more than...