Aidan sat down on the bed, arms around the pack on his lap. f**k, he missed Andy. Missed Andy’s jokes about tucking him in and reading him a story, the dirty old sod. Just missed…him.
Fuck, he wasn’t sure he could do this. But he’d promised Andy.
Aidan couldn’t be arsed to get undressed, even though he knew he needed a shower like nobody’s business. They could probably smell his armpits three rooms away. There was always the morning. He kicked off his trainers and lay back on the bed. If Andy had been there, he’d have said something about Aidan being a sight for sore eyes, and what the f**k did he think he was doing with so many f*****g clothes on. Andy would have lain down beside him and done something about all those clothes, and he’d have stroked him and held him and…
He’d have told
