Waiting for the Night [Dalan]

Chapter 15

Dave flipped his mobile open as he took a drag of his cigarette. It was a text message from Knox again, asking if he could get some food from the all-night kebab shop on the way back. Dave texted back, saying that he wasn't sure what time he would be done at Alan's. This only resulted in an aggrieved, 'AGAIN?!' from Knox, which made Dave chuckle and snap his phone shut. Dave had not said anything, but he suspected that Knox had already guessed why he was spending so much time with Alan.

Still, it wasn't that he had any ulterior motives up his sleeve. Sure, he found Alan amazingly attractive and talented, but he liked the company even more. Flood, Martin and the Baron were some of the funniest, craziest blokes he had ever met, but in Dave's eyes, they all paled in comparison to Alan's bizarre, wicked sense of humour. 

From experience, Dave had expected anyone with a pretty face to have a boring and flat personality, but Alan was just an amazing guy to be around. Sure, he was very intense about his music and his work, but that just made him all the more admirable. He was talented and he knew it, but he simply waved off the praise with self-depreciating humour or sarcasm. It was refreshing. Dave realized he had finally met someone - other than Knox - who was a match for his sarcastic barbs.

Taking another deep drag, he let his eyes wander around the streets below. Alan's house had a balcony on the third floor, which was where his home studio was. Dave already knew from his many visits that Alan and Paris had their respective rooms on the second floor, while Mrs. Cheung the housekeeper slept on the first floor. There was also a guest room where Flood or Martin crashed sometimes, but Dave had never stayed over. He didn't trust himself to behave around Alan, to control this burgeoning attraction that was getting out of hand.

He heard the door open behind him, and turned to smile at a sleepy Alan who was shuffling to stand beside him on the railing. "Smoke?" He offered his cigarette to Alan, who took it from him gratefully.

"These late nights are getting to me," Alan admitted, amidst a puff of smoke. He handed the cigarette back to Dave, who smiled as he took it. There was a little thrill of putting his lips where Alan's had been. "Hope we sort out the album soon."

"We will. Then it will amaze the world and sell a gazillion copies, and you'll get to sleep with a horde of supermodels each night." Dave grinned as he took another drag. Perfect.

Alan laughed, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "Is that what you do now? Drum up fantasies of me sleeping with supermodels?"

Blushing a little, Dave tried not to look too caught. "Nah sorry mate, you're not my type," he pretended to joke. "Now Flood, he's super hot."

It was good to laugh with Alan, sharing a cigarette and just talking nonsense as the sun was beginning to creep up the horizon. Dave couldn't see it, of course, the London skyline was horrendous for viewing sunrises or sunsets, but the sky was already starting to lighten with streaks of blue and orange. Alan seemed deep in thought, and Dave took this opportunity to shamelessly ogle the man. With the way his head was tilted, the light falling on his profile just so, he had never looked quite so amazingly beautiful to Dave.

"It's been a while since I smoked," Alan finally said in a soft, faraway voice. "Not since my wife died."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Dave let his hand rest on Alan's back. Just to comfort, and nothing more. "What happened?"

"Breast cancer, four years ago." Alan shook his head. "You always read the horrifying statistics in the paper, and you think it can never happen to you, think that your happily-ever-after is going to go on and on. But then, what makes you so special from the next bloke and his wife?"

Despite the tiredness, Dave was fully aware that this was something Alan barely talked about with just anyone. He moved his hand up and down consolingly on Alan's back. "You're a great dad to Paris," he said quietly. "You obviously mean the world to her, and vice versa."

Alan glanced at him, shivering a little in the morning cold. "She does. But sometimes...I just think that I may not be doing enough, you know? That I'm short-changing her somehow?"

Alan's words brought a pang to his heart as he thought of Jack, asleep in his bed somewhere in Basildon. "You're not," he said with conviction. "Trust me, you're not."

Alan turned to him, those intense grey eyes unnerving him a little. "You a dad yourself?"

"Yeah," Dave admitted. "Got a little boy named Jack, back in Basildon."

"What happened?"

"I left my first wife, Jo, for another woman. At the time, he was too young to know what happened, really. But I continued to see him on the weekends." Dave finished with his cigarette and stubbed it before tossing it over the balcony railing. Since Alan was being so open with him, he had to return the favour in kind. "I fucked up. I got addicted to smack. Threw away my art career, threw away everything. Even Teresa, the second wife, left me. Hit rock bottom when I realised Jo refused to let Jack see me unless I straightened up."

Alan didn't say anything, he was only nodding. Dave was afraid that if he looked over, he would see contempt or worse, pity, in those endless grey eyes. But instead, there was only a profound understanding. It took him a while to realize that the soothing sensation on his back was Alan's hand, reciprocating the action. 

"So I did it. Straighten up and fly right, isn't that how the song goes?" Dave huffed out a bitter laugh. "By the time I got out, Jo and Jack had moved. I didn't have their new address. So I just write to the old one, hoping some kind neighbour will forward the mail."

Alan cleared his throat, stepping a little closer. "You know-"

The door flew open, making both of them jump as Johnny barged into the balcony. "Jesus, there you guys are!" He looked irritated and tired. "What, you guys having a candlelit dinner out there?"

"Don't be jealous, Johnny." Alan grinned, smacking a surprised Johnny on the ass. "You know I'll only ever have eyes for you."

As Dave followed the joking twosome inside, he was surprised at how much better he felt now, having shared with Alan his little sordid story, and seeing a side of the mysterious, aloof man that he had never been allowed to see before. He smiled as he closed the door behind him, ready for another round of brainstorming.