The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

The Way You Are

ward was an unflinching shade of hospital green, the

washed out, chalky color that Leon had only ever seen in
movies. Hospitals, in his admittedly limited experience, were
supposed to be a crumbly yellow or a stark, modern white,
and this one was both, at least on the outside. Walking in
from the glare of the spring sun, he wondered if the paint
scheme was an attempt to bring the color of the park outside
into the hospital, but the dullness of stereotypical surgical-
gown green was so different from the vibrant green of grass
and leaves that he quickly decided against it. Stereotypical.
Leon suppressed a shudder at the word. It came loaded with
meanings and preconceptions, some good, but mostly not.
This was, after all, a “stereotypical” regional city.

Two hours from Sydney by train, Newcastle stretched

along the southern bank of the Hunter River, following its
curves all the way to the Tasman Sea, where Leon, like most
of the residents, took to the glorious sandy beaches and surf
spots that were nearly as famous as the city’s coal exports
and subtropical weather. Here, shops were just starting to
stay open after five and on Sundays, Chinese takeout bore
no relation to China other than the occasional limp bean
sprout and premade hoisin sauce, and everyone who didn’t
work in the hospital or the coal industry eventually left to
find a job and a better life somewhere else.

Those who stayed behind either owned the place or were

absolute derros

. Leon was honest enough to admit that

Slang for “derelict.” The original word might have been wittier, but “derelict” has far

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

judgment was probably unfair, especially given Krissy’s
parents’ successful B and B in the eastern end of town, but
after going out that first Saturday night to the Great
Northern Hotel and hearing the drunken jeers of bogans

driving around the deserted streets in battered utes

of muck

brown or faded blue, he too now repeated the mantra that
had been passed down from student to new student over the
years at the university: “When you go out at night, don’t
make eye contact with the locals

.”

The University of Newcastle, of course, was a haven for

those fleeing even smaller-minded country towns, those who
found the whole notion of city living just that little bit
terrifying, or those who couldn’t afford—or didn’t get into—
the big city campuses of Sydney or Melbourne. Leon had
found university life freeing, a mass of thoughtful people
willing to live and let live, or even celebrate diversity. It was
at university he first felt comfortable enough to come out, at
university where he first kissed a guy, and at university
where he met Krissy, the first person who accepted him for

too many syllables to make a good insult, and besides, Aussies are lazy. If they weren’t,
they’d call themselves Australians and throw a shrimp on the barbecue rather than on the
“barbie.”

The term “Bogan” refers to someone considered less cultured, less intelligent, and

typically more rural than the person using the insult. It’s what the British would call
Australians if they ever tired of the word “convict.” For Americans, the best translation
would be “trailer trash” or anyone from Jersey Shore. It should be noted that there is a
town in New South Wales called Bogan, but the population is silent as to whether any
Bogans actually live there.

Short for Utility Vehicle. Known as a “pickup truck” or simply “pickup” in America,

Aussies decided to use their own slang because no one wanted to make the effort of
pronouncing the extra syllable.

Interestingly this phrase was never used to refer to the locals who went to the

University. Whether that says more about the locals or the students using the phrase is a
question best left to individual judgement.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

exactly who he was. Or Kristina, if she was meeting a boy on
a serious date.

Then the rumors had begun circulating.
“He’s where?”
“Hospital.”
“What happened?”
“Last I heard, seven broken bones, internal injuries, and

a coma.”

“I thought he was going to give blood?”
“Well, that sounds like a big night out gone wrong.”
“Oh my God, are youse talking about Kim Kardashian?

Have youse seen the photos?”

“What? We’re talking about Rook.”
“Rook was invited to Kim Kardashian’s party? Oh my

God, that is like, so—”

“No, Rook was gay bashed.”
“Rook’s gay?”
“No way! I dated that bastard! You’re saying he drove

stick the entire time?”

“Wait—is he like, famous or something?”
“No he’s a physio student hoping to transfer into med.”
“And he’s straight.”
And, some days later, when the stories had swirled

around campus long enough to be published in Opus, the
student newspaper, and everyone else had moved on to

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

debating Schrödinger’s bunnies

, Leon finally became aware

of what had happened.

And that was what brought him to room 14B in the

puke-green wing of the John Hunter Hospital, named after
not one but three John Hunters, one of whom had nothing to
do with medicine whatsoever, but had been instrumental in
breaking news of the newly discovered platypus back in the
United Kingdom in 1798—a feat achieved by sending back a
sketch of a live animal and the dead pelt of the first one to be
encountered by humans

The room wasn’t what Leon had been expecting. For

starters, it was mostly bare, with two ward beds empty and
the third containing the limp figure of an aging matron, a
thin, white cotton sheet doing little to conceal her bulk.

Leon focused his gaze on the furthest corner of the

room, where a yellow privacy curtain had been drawn back,
allowing sunlight from the nearby window to play over the
unmoving figure in the fourth hospital bed. The bed was
large to Leon’s eyes, and the patient it contained looked a bit
like a child in comparison, even though Leon knew Rook to
be at least six inches taller than himself. The bedsheets were
tucked around the recumbent figure, still neat and crisp, as
if they had just been fitted around his body. Obviously, coma

Put two random rabbits into a box. The theory goes that until you open the box, the

number of rabbits inside the box is both two and greater than two at the same time.
Students who pointed out that the actual state should also include less than two depending
on how large the box was, whether there were air holes, whether food and water were
also included, and the length of time the box was left for, were promptly ridiculed as
“overly intellectual” and lynched by PETA for clearly putting too much thought into the
analogy.

The notion that the indigenous Australian people, who had lived in harmony with the

harsh environment of Australia for untold centuries, somehow counted as “human” didn’t
really become fashionable until 1967.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

patients didn’t move much. An unused tray table and a soft
chair—upholstered in the poo brown that had been ever so
popular in the 1950s or some other decade before Leon’s
time—sat off slightly to one side, a bunch of wilted flowers on
the bedside table, and a small stack of get well cards the
only personal touches in the otherwise institutional space.

Leon would have expected a scrunched tissue or

indented cushion or something—anything—to indicate the
presence of parents, but apparently they lived far out in the
middle of Woop Woop

. The last few days hadn’t been kind to

Rook—or as he was known on his patient chart, Travis
Rookford. The left side of his face was still swollen and
bruised, the skin lacerated with a myriad of cuts that,
according to newspaper sources, had been inflicted by a
smashed bottle. One source

said Rook was lucky to not

have lost an eye. His right leg was elevated and in a heavy
cast, and Leon knew that somewhere under the chest
bandages were a number of broken ribs, a lot of internal
bruising, and a significant amount of internal bleeding.

“H-hi,” Leon said.
The only response was a triple-fluted snore from the

lady in bed three and the steady beep-beep-beep of Rook’s
heart monitor.

“You probably don’t remember me. Actually, I’d be

surprised if you did,” Leon said, eyes wandering over the
tubes that led from Rook’s muscled arm to the bag of
intravenous fluid hanging from its polished metal pole on

Another example of Australian slang. Politely this translates to “back of beyond” and

less politely to “bum-fuck nowhere,” but probably with less bum and more sheep. At
least, according to the Kiwis across the pond, but they’re just deflecting, really.

Vanessa Strangetooth, 20, student of cosmetic dentistry who possessed a perfect smile,

obviously.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

wheels. “I, uh, wanted to say thanks for sticking up for me.
Well, not for me specifically but, well… us, you know? You
didn’t have to do that. And if you hadn’t, you’d probably still
be fine and well.”

Leon paused, “Maybe you’re wishing you didn’t say

anything—not that I’d blame you, but, um… yeah… I wanted
to say thanks.”

As he sat fidgeting on the poo-brown chair, Leon felt

foolish, speaking to a man in a coma, whom he knew next to
nothing about. “Okay, well… thanks for listening,” he said,
staring down at his feet. “Assuming you can even hear me,
that is.”

“He should be able to,” a new voice said.
Leon literally jumped, nearly tripping over his own feet

on the way down.

“Sorry,” the deep voice said. “I didn’t mean to startle

you.”

The nurse was young, and Leon guessed he was a

student on a hospital placement. He had the build of a rugby
player, with firm muscles barely hidden in the otherwise
shapeless green hospital scrubs he wore. His face was broad,
and his hair closely cropped. His skin was either tanned by
the sun or the result of mixed parentage, and the subtle
almond shape of his eyes made Leon suspect the latter.

“Geez, way to give a guy a heart attack.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” the other man said, grinning just

enough to show his teeth. “I’m fully trained in CPR and
emergency procedures. After all, we are in a hospital.” Then
the nurse hesitated, “Wait, that was a joke wasn’t it?”

“Uh, kinda,” Leon said, somewhat taken aback.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Right. Sorry. I have a tendency to take things very

literally.”

“I see,” Leon said, more than a little uncertain if there

was any socially acceptable reply to a phrase like that. There
was also a slightly more certain feeling that he was being
flirted with.

“Anyway, medically there are studies that suggest it’s

good for coma patients to be talked to. Sometimes they can
hear you even if they can’t respond, and some say it registers
in their subconscious even if they can’t consciously hear
you.”

“Okay,” Leon said. “That’s… good to know.”
“So… you’re a friend?” the other man asked after a

moment of awkward silence.

“Me? Oh no…. We don’t really know each other at all.”
“Right… right.” The nurse’s eyebrows rose. “Sorry, I just

assumed that—”

“I wanted to thank him for what he did,” Leon said. “He

didn’t have to, and it meant—means a lot to me. I know, I
know. It’s stupid and a little creepy and—”

“Actually, I think it’s kind of sweet.” Yep, there was

definitely flirting happening. “And it’s good that you came.
He doesn’t get many visitors.”

“I noticed,” Leon said, his eyes drifting back to the tiny

stack of cards and the wilted flowers. “I’m Leon, by the way.”

“Warrick,” the big man said, holding out his hand. “Nice

to meet you, Leon.”

“You too,” Leon replied, grasping the other man’s hand.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

For a moment hazel eyes locked unflinchingly with

brown, and Leon found it hard to breathe. Then the alarm on
his phone went off, startling them both.

“S-sorry,” Leon said. “I gotta motor—class.”
“Of course. See you later?”
“Um… maybe,” Leon said, his cheeks flushing slightly

as he darted from the room.

“S

?”

Krissy asked as she flipped open her laptop in the

little corner of the Student Association building that she and
Leon had claimed as their own, sandwiched between the
vending machines and the repainted orange wall that still
bore the marks of the graffiti tag from last semester.

“So what?” Leon asked, shrugging his backpack off his

right shoulder, slumping into the worn black couch
cushions, and pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie.

Krissy sighed and rolled her eyes, the movement

seemingly exaggerated by her mascara and eyeliner. She was
dressed in bright colors, with a frilly blue cardigan over a
white T-shirt, and her blonde hair was streaked with pink to
match the thick frames of her glasses. “So how’d your trip to
the hospital go?” she asked, her rainbow bracelets of the day
clicking together along her wrists as she tapped away on her
keyboard.

“It was okay,” Leon said. “Hot guy, you know?”
“Leon, he’s straight! And wasn’t he in a coma with

serious injuries?”

“What? No, not Rook! The nurse.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Oh, that’s completely different then,” Krissy said.

“What’s his name, and did you ask him out?”

“Warrick, and no,” Leon said, ducking his head and

rummaging through his bag for his macroeconomic
textbooks.

“Why not?”
“Did I mention he was built like a rugby player?” Leon

asked. “Besides, you know I don’t ask guys out—and
definitely not the really hot ones.”

Krissy blew a raspberry at him over the screen of her

laptop. “That’s not an answer.”

“Guys like him don’t go for guys like me,” Leon said.

“Not really,” he added, as he remembered the feel of
Warrick’s hand gripping his own.

“Chickadee, guys go for whoever guys go for. I’ve told

you about my ex, haven’t I? The one who dumped me when I
lost weight?”

“No?”
“Sorry,” she said. “He liked his women large. Extra

large. Extra, extra, extra large. He said I was too skinny for
him.”

“And how thin were you then?” Leon asked, eyeing

Krissy’s curves critically.

“About ten kilos heavier than I am now, thank you very

much,” she replied, her eyes narrowing warningly.

“Okay, weird, I’ll accept that. That doesn’t mean I

should ask Warrick out.”

“You can’t live your life hiding under a damp rock.”
“No, but I can live it that way until I get out of Newy.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Leon, no one here cares.”
Leon snorted, cracking open the spine of his near-

pristine reader to the section on depreciation and
amortization. “Tell that to Rook.”

“Touché,” Krissy said. “But you know what I mean. No

one at uni cares, I don’t care, and half the artists setting up
shop here are gay or queer. They’re even talking about
opening a second club.”

“So it’s just everyone else then?” Leon asked. “Did you

know Rook’s room was empty? Well, nearly empty?”

“What do you mean?”
“There was one bunch of wilted flowers and maybe six

cards. Warrick said he didn’t get many visitors.”

“Well, he is at the other end of town.”
“With the strip clubs, bars, and sex stores between

there and here?” Leon suggested.

“Come on, there aren’t that many on Hunter Street, and

those that are there are hardly busy. Besides, that only
counts if you’re walking back through town at midnight, and
if so, you know the rule: don’t—”

“Make eye contact?”
For some reason, the resulting chuckle seemed a little

forced this time around.

“You still coming to Christmas with my family?” Krissy

asked.

“Christmas-Christmas? Of course,” Leon said, grinning.

“I’m not spending it with mine.”

“There’s a not-Christmas Christmas?”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“The Queer Collective Christmas party.”
“Fair point,” Krissy said. “Yes, Christmas-Christmas. Do

I need to tell Mum to expect a plus-one with you this year?”

Leon pulled up his hood and sank further into the

couch. “No.”

Krissy grinned at him from over her laptop screen.

“Okay, love, but if you happen to show up with one, it’ll be
cool with the folks,” she said, her fingers flying over her
keyboard. “You know Mum always cooks enough to feed an
army.”

Leon smiled weakly. “Yeah.”
After a few minutes of peering at what some author had

probably thought was uncomplicated talk about corporate
externalities, Leon leaned back in his chair and rotated his
neck, the vertebrae cracking as they protested the cramp
studying gave them. “What are you working on anyway?”
Leon asked. “More random code for world domination?”

Krissy made an indelicate sound. “I wish. No, legal

briefs that I’m supposed to familiarize myself with by
Monday.”

“Oh, right!” Leon said. “There’s the actual degree you’re

enrolled in. How’s that going?”

“Good, I think,” Krissy said. “The internship’s taking

most of my time, though. They’re saying I can sit in the
courtroom to observe some trials soon.”

“That sounds exciting,” Leon said. “So are you going to

be at Rook’s hearing?”

“Maybe,” Krissy replied. “I don’t know if that’s one that

we’re holding locally or if it’s a state trial.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Does this mean you have to wear a suit and tone down

the jewelry, or are you going to go all Legally Blonde on me?”
Leon asked.

“No, I am not wearing a pink suit, thank you very

much,” Krissy said. “Although I would look totally hot in
one.”

“Indubitably.”
Krissy laughed and started to close her laptop. “You and

your big words,” she said.

“Leaving?” Leon asked.
“Yeah, I have work tomorrow.”
“Internship,” Leon corrected mildly.
“Okay, internship,” Krissy said. “But that’s still nine to

five. Eight hours of hard work. Hard actual work.”

“I don’t know how you’re going to cope,” Leon said

solemnly. “See you tonight?”

“Maybe. I could be in bed by the time you get back

though. I’m making spag bol, so there’ll be some in the fridge
for you regardless,” Krissy said. “And if you’re free on the
weekend, you can catch me up on Rook and the hunky
nurse.”

“Like there’ll be anything to say,” Leon grumped. “I

probably won’t see him again.”

EAH

right, Leon thought the next day as he stepped off the

blue-and-white bus and walked through the doors into the
slightly antiseptic-smelling hospital air on his way to room

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

14B. It wasn’t Warrick. At least, he told himself it wasn’t
Warrick. It was really the dying flowers and six lonely cards.
When he walked back into the room, little had changed. The
chair was still an ugly poo brown and the table still unused,
although it appeared that someone had put one of those
plastic strip things over the snoring lady’s nose in an
attempt to reduce her volume. It wasn’t working too well, but
at least instead of a constant “snore, snore, snore… snort,
snore,” the sound she was making was much more a “mrrr,
mrrr, mrr, mrr, mrr… blort,” which was at least a marginal
improvement—except for the blort.

Dropping his backpack on the chair, he took the flowers

from the jam-jar-cum-vase and dumped them in the
sparkling clean rubbish bin before taking the jar to the
bathroom to clean it out. Once dry, Leon refilled it with large
colored sand granules and a vanilla scented candle and
returned it to the table. Probably something that would never
get used, but it looked nicer at least.

“Hey, Rook,” he said as he finished and pulled his

course reader and a small netbook out of his backpack. “I
hope you don’t mind me hanging out here. I just thought I’d
get some study done. I, uh, got an essay due and lots of time
to kill. My friend Krissy’s working, and I’m not on shift until
six, so my day is pretty much open.”

Rook said nothing, but then, Leon hadn’t really expected

him to.

VER

the next few weeks, Leon found himself at the hospital

more and more. As Krissy became increasingly absorbed in
her internship, he found the quiet of the hospital room a

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

welcome change to the natter of the student union and less
busy than even the library. More to the point, it also had
better eye candy.

“Join me for a coffee, Leon?” Warrick asked, poking his

head into the room.

Leon looked up from his notes on Giffen goods

and

smiled. “Again? Is it break time already?” he asked with a grin.

Warrick shrugged, and for a moment Leon was

distracted by the play of muscle moving against muscle in
the nurse’s shoulders.

“Sorry. What?” he said, when it dawned on him that

Warrick was waiting for an answer.

“I said it is for those of us on duty,” Warrick said with a

grin.

Leon grimaced and held up his textbook. “I want to, but

I should really finish the chapter.”

“You know, medically, it’s good for your brain if you take

a break every now and again.”

“I seem to recall you’ve said that before.”
“The truth bears repeating,” Warrick said solemnly.

“And I could really use the company.”

“Oh, all right,” Leon said, closing his notebook and

putting it away in his backpack. “Cafeteria?”

“Unless you fancy taking a bus back to the old CBD for

something better.”

A Giffen good is a rare product that people buy more of as its price increases, the

traditional example being potatoes during the Irish potato famine. Of course, a more
modern example would be Apple’s latest iPhone or One Direction concert tickets.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Personally, I do,” Leon said as he and Warrick exited

the room and headed down the corridor, “but that would
make you late for work, wouldn’t it?”

Warrick smiled and checked the hallway before leaning

in toward Leon. “Actually, I think that would be worth it to
have some more time with you,” he said, his voice low.

Leon peeked up at the other man shyly. “Yeah?”
“Why do you always sound so surprised when I say

something like that?” Warrick asked.

Leon shrugged. “You always surprise me.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“Fine,” Leon said. “Why me?”
Leon had gone a few steps down the stairs before he

realized Warrick wasn’t with him. Turning, he paused and
looked back up to where the other man stood, his face open
and wondering.

“Haven’t you looked at yourself?” Warrick asked, his

brow furrowing.

“Daily in the mirror when I shave, yeah. You can almost

count my ribs. Every time I go for a checkup, I get asked if
I’ve got an eating disorder.”

“Okay, so you’re slender,” Warrick said. “That’s not

what I meant.”

“And what exactly did you mean?”
“You….” Warrick glanced up the stairs and hurried to

join Leon, and Leon saw a doctor walk down the corridor
they had just vacated. “How many other people bothered to
come in and say thanks to Travis?” he asked in a lower
voice. “I can tell you the answer right now, and that’s none.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Leon stopped and stared at the larger man carefully, his

eyes searching Warrick’s face.

“What?” Warrick asked.
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Um… yes?”
“Huh, okay.”
“Okay? I just bared my soul to you and you say ‘okay’?”
“Well, I didn’t think you—I mean, I wasn’t sure if you

were… serious.”

“I am, all right?” Warrick said, his voice tinged with

exasperation. “So… now with that out of the way, you still up
for coffee?”

Leon grinned and started down the stairs again.

“Definitely,” he said.

“Great,” Warrick said, smiling broadly. “Tell you what,

why don’t we try the new place?”

“New place?” Leon asked as they walked down the

varicolored corridors of off white, robin’s-egg blue, and a pale
industrial red that never seemed to find a moniker.
Personally, Leon called it cheap, itchy T-shirt red, but the
paint tin probably had a different label on it.

“They opened a food court on level one of the new

building—the Royal Newcastle Centre. You must have
passed it on your way in.”

Leon frowned. “You mean the gleaming white part still

waiting on landscaping? The part that looks like a grater
with windows?”

“Grater?”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Kind of. I was going to say Rubik’s Cube, but it’s all

white and the blocks are too small.”

Warrick chuckled as he led the way through the

children’s ward. “Okay, just don’t say that too loudly. Some
of the staff are very fond of their new facilities.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Leon said, grinning.

“What’s with the film crews?”

“They’re filming a TV show or something. Following

student doctors around and billing it as a real-life hospital
soap opera.”

“What?” Leon said, pulling the hood of his jumper over

his head. “Don’t they need our permission or something if
they’re going to show us on TV?”

“Technically, no,” Warrick said. “It’s a public place, so

they can film what they want. They’ll get release forms from
patients and families, but the rest of us….”

“I feel strangely violated,” Leon muttered. “Unless—

sorry, you’re probably looking forward to seeing yourself on
TV.”

Warrick sighed. “That would be nice, but it’s not going

to happen.”

“Why not?”
“It’s a show about doctors, not nurses,” Warrick said as

he led the way into the food court. “And I hear they’re
focusing on the students’ personal lives, and there’s no way
they’ll put me crushing on another guy on Australian TV.”

“Why not? They do it all the time on reality TV shows.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Not in Newcastle. It would be near impossible for me to

keep working here if some of the patients found out. And you
know how people in hospital like to watch their TV.”

“I don’t know,” Leon said, “I thought it was just a case of

there not being much else to do.”

Warrick shrugged. “Maybe. In any case, I don’t think I’d

get on the show. And by your reaction, I don’t think you’d
sign the release form even if they did, right?”

“I thought they didn’t need one,” Leon said, glancing

through the tall windows out into the bushland park beyond.

“Not if you’re just walking past a camera, no,” Warrick

said. “But they do if you’re talking to them and they want to
use footage of the conversation in the program.”

“How do you know all of this?”
“I occasionally do extra work for TV. It’s good pocket

money.”

“Anything I might have seen?”
“You can see the back of my head in the new Big W ad,”

Warrick said with a grin.

“Yowee, I’m dating a celebrity!” Leon said vapidly, faking

a swoon, only to find himself swept into Warrick’s arms,
looking into a pair of very concerned brown eyes.

“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You don’t need to sit down? Maybe you

should sit down,” Warrick said, guiding Leon into a chair.
“Head between your knees.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

It took Leon a bit of effort to move Warrick’s hand from

his back so he could sit up straight, and he smiled wryly at
the larger man. “That was a joke, Warrick.”

“Oh.” Warrick sat down hard on the chair next to him,

causing the wooden back to creak. “Sorry. I have a tendency
to—”

“Take things literally. I remember,” Leon said, grinning.

“I just didn’t realize that stretched to actions as well as
words.”

“Well, you know, hospital and everything, yeah?”

Warrick said. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Leon said. “A little embarrassed, but I’m fine.

That said, if you want to wrap me up in your arms again
sometime, I won’t complain.”

Warrick’s skin flushed, and he looked around nervously.

“Um, maybe not at work?”

Leon looked around at the rest of the food court where

faces were pointedly turning back to their sandwiches, beef
stroganoff, and cappuccinos. “Right.”

“Mind the table?” Warrick asked. “I’ll grab the drinks.”
“Okay. Can I get a chai latte?” Leon asked, digging into

a pocket for his wallet.

“Sure. Did you want anything to eat?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” Leon said, pulling out a five-dollar note.
“Not on your life,” Warrick said. “I’ll probably get a

snack, though, so feel free to steal from whatever I end up
with,” he added before turning to head across the wooden
floor to the polished counters, glass refrigerators, and
perhaps most importantly, the shiny chrome coffee machine.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Leon watched him walk away for a little too long,

wondering how it was possible for a man to look so good in
hospital scrubs. Then he shook himself, put away his wallet,
and pretended to look out the window instead—and not at
the insubstantial reflection of the nurse in the glass.

When Warrick returned, bearing a tray of edible

goodness, Leon couldn’t stop the dreamy smile that spread
across his face. Warrick’s idea of a snack turned out to be
wedges with sour cream and sweet chilli sauce—exactly what
he did not expect, and probably one of his all-time favorite
foods that he didn’t get to eat much. Krissy refused to let
him count “deep-fried potato” as a vegetable serving, the
spoilsport.

“So, chai latte with honey,” Warrick said. “And keep

your mitts off my hot chocolate.”

Leon chuckled. “I love how ‘coffee’ with you doesn’t

actually mean coffee.”

“I’m not good on caffeine,” Warrick said, sitting down

opposite Leon and taking the piping-hot wedges off the tray.

“Oh?”
“I become a complete spaz,” Warrick said, pushing his

fringe out of his eyes with a grin.

“I’m not sure I dare to ask,” Leon said, cradling his mug

in his hands. “You know, for a hospital, this isn’t half bad,”
he said, taking a sip from the glass.

Warrick smiled, “You doing much this weekend?”
“Not really. Why?”
“Well, we could go out for a real noncoffee,” Warrick

suggested. “And maybe catch a movie?”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Leon grinned and grabbed a wedge from the bowl,

dropping it quickly as it threatened to burn his fingers.
“Okay. Which one?”

“Honestly, I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Warrick

said, his face flushing. “I’m not even sure what’s on at the
moment. What sort of films do you like anyway?”

“Not horror,” Leon said immediately. “Anything but

horror.”

that was more or less how Leon found himself in the

back row at Tower Cinemas giggling over the antics of an
animated fox. Sometimes the oldies were the goodies.

“You really don’t mind?” Warrick had asked as they

bought their tickets, trekking across the multicolored
starburst carpet that always made Leon think of Technicolor
smiley-face vomit.

“I used to watch this constantly as a kid,” Leon said. “I

wore the tape so thin in the party scene where he’s playing
the fiddle with his bow that it would go gray and fuzzy on
screen. And then for years I wanted to be an outlaw with a
bow.”

“A real life Robin Hood, huh?” Warrick said, digging into

the buttery saltiness that was cinema popcorn.

Leon squirmed back into the padded red cinema seats.

“Yeah, well, you can be my Little John.”

Warrick laughed, placing his large hand over Leon’s

smaller one on the armrest. “As long as I don’t have to have
his gut.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Leon smiled into the darkness. “You can be a muscle

bear if you’d prefer, Warrick.”

“Does this mean I can stop waxing my chest?”
“Just how fuzzy do you get exactly?” Leon asked.
Warrick squeezed Leon’s hand and turned his eyes back

to the screen, where the aforementioned Little John was
scratching at the back of his neck with an arrow. “Not as bad
as him.”

“Glad to hear it,” Leon said. “Otherwise unclogging the

shower drain would be a bitch.”

“Not to mention the grooming.”
“Or fleas.”
Warrick’s voice rose in outrage. “I would never have fleas

!”

That earned them a loud “Shh!” from the row in front of

them, and Leon chuckled, squeezing Warrick’s hand.

He didn’t let go for the rest of the movie.
They caught a taxi to campus, sitting in the back with

their hands a finger-width apart and itching to close the gap
between them, regardless of the potential consequences.
When they finally arrived at Leon’s house, sitting on the
corner of two unassuming streets, Warrick pushed Leon up
against the brick facade and pressed their lips together. He
tasted like butter and salt and the tang of Coke, and Leon
yielded happily to Warrick’s demands. The other man’s body
was hot against his own, the frisson of heat welcome in the
coolness of the spring night. Strong hands cradled his head
and slid down his torso to clutch at his ass.

Except for that one time, which does not get talked about.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” Warrick breathed,

resting his forehead against Leon’s.

Grinning, Leon grabbed the waistband of Warrick’s

pants and dragged the other man closer. “What took you so
long?”

Warrick groaned and nestled his head in the crook of

Leon’s neck. “Damn, I wish I lived in Sydney sometimes.”

“But if you did, you wouldn’t have met me,” Leon said

indulgently, kissing Warrick’s temple.

“Mmm, there is that,” Warrick agreed, turning his head

to press his lips against Leon’s again. “I do plan to get out of
here eventually, though.”

“You and me both,” Leon said with a grin. “You coming

inside, or are you going to spend the rest of the night out
here planning the future?”

“You live by yourself?” Warrick asked, hooking his

fingers into the back of Leon’s jeans as he followed Leon to
the front door.

“No,” Leon said as he dug his keys out of his pocket.

“What exactly are you doing back there?”

Warrick shrugged, his grin innocently cherubic. “I don’t

know.”

Pushing through the front door of the small house, Leon

reached out to flick on the light switch. “Krissy?” he called.
“Krissy, you in? Guess not,” he added as Warrick shut the
door behind them. “Drink?”

“No,” Warrick said, wrapping his arms around Leon’s

waist and pulling him close. “I really don’t want a drink.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Really?” Leon asked, tossing his keys onto a side table

in the hallway. “What do you want then?”

A soft kiss at the nape of his neck was followed by a

second closer to his jaw, and then a third and fourth as a
hand stroked down his front and rubbed lightly at the
hardness encased in its prison of denim. “I want you. God, I
want you so much.”

“Come on,” Leon murmured, his voice husky. “Last door

on the right.”

They didn’t bother turning on the light, and instead

stepped into the darkness in a tangle of arms, legs, teeth,
and tongues. Hands sought out the hems of T-shirts, and for
a moment, Leon just rested his hands on Warrick’s upper
back, feeling muscles ripple as Warrick toyed with the zipper
on Leon’s jeans, the metal teeth making their distinctive
ripping sound just before the denim was peeled down Leon’s
legs to tangle around his shoes.

“You know, normally I like skinny jeans on you, but

right now….”

Pivoting on both feet, Leon sat backward onto his bed,

reaching down to pull off his shoes. “You get yours, I’ll get
mine?”

Warrick knelt at the foot of the bed and placed his

hands around Leon’s left sneaker. “But I want to do that.”

“My way is faster,” Leon said.
“Mine’s more fun,” Warrick countered as he eased off

both of Leon’s sneakers, followed quickly by his jeans.

“I suppose,” Leon said, reaching out and grabbing the

back of Warrick’s T-shirt. “Okay, I’ll agree—this is much
more fun.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Warrick lifted his arms helpfully, allowing Leon to pull

the flimsy garment off, and Leon threw it to one side before
running his hands over Warrick’s shoulders and chest,
fingers seeking out the taut nipples he knew would be there
and encountering something else along the way.

“Do you really wax?” Leon asked, tugging gently at the

stray strands of chest hair.

“Yes,” Warrick said almost defensively as he stretched

out on the bed beside Leon. “It does grow back, you know.”

Leon chuckled and rolled to his side, his mouth trailing

kisses from his lover’s mouth down to the center of Warrick’s
chest. With a sudden grin, he bit down on one of Warrick’s
nipples, eliciting a yelp and a sudden tightening of Warrick’s
hands on the back of his head.

“Was that a ‘stop’ or a ‘keep going’?” Leon mumbled,

swiping his tongue against the sensitive nub.

“That was a ‘you could have warned me’, actually,”

Warrick said, his voice more a gasp than anything else.

“I know,” Leon said, kissing his way across Warrick’s

chest toward the other nipple. “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Fuck,” Warrick groaned, his hands twitching on Leon’s

scalp as Leon hovered over him, waiting. “Leeeon.”

Leon stayed exactly where he was, resisting the gentle

urgings of Warrick’s hands until his lover met his gaze.
“Hmm?”

“This is torture,” Warrick said solemnly.
Leon pushed Warrick onto his back and kissed his chest

tenderly. “Is it?” he murmured, dropping his kisses lower
along the trail of hairs leading down into Warrick’s shorts.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Yes, most definitely,” Warrick said, arching up into

Leon’s touch.

Leon grinned and reached out to cup Warrick’s cloth-

covered erection with his right hand. “A belt?” he asked
suddenly. “You wear a belt with shorts?”

“What? It’s a nice belt. And it’s casual.”
“With shorts.”
“Hey, I wear scrubs eight to ten hours a day most days.

I like dressing up every now and again.”

“Well, it’s cheating.”
“I’m sorry,” Warrick gasped as Leon bit down on the

cotton-trapped shaft, nimble fingers deftly undoing the
buckle and easing the woven canvas of the belt out of the
clasp.

“Oh, you will be,” Leon said, popping the buttons of his

lover’s fly one by one. “Did you deliberately pick clothes that
would be hard to get out of?”

Warrick’s laughter was mingled with groans of pleasure.

“No, I just picked the pair that showed off my ass.”

“Warrick, hospital scrubs show off your ass,” Leon said

drily as he finally tugged the other man’s shorts and briefs
off, revealing a long, cut cock that was every bit as
impressive as the man himself.

“If you say so,” Warrick said, his breath slightly ragged

as Leon swirled his tongue around Warrick’s length and took
it deep into his throat.

“Fuck,” Warrick groaned, his head tossing against the

bedspread as his hands sought out Leon’s shoulders, urging

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

him into a gentle rhythm and then pulling him off when he
gagged.

“You don’t have to do that,” Warrick said, craning his

neck to meet Leon’s gaze.

Leon shrugged as he pulled off, bringing up his hand to

stroke Warrick’s erection. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Warrick’s chuckle was warm and lodged somewhere

deep within Leon’s chest. “I guess not.”

Leon shook his head and kissed his way up Warrick’s

body, losing himself in another series of slow, languorous
kisses. Large hands slid into his trunks, cupped his ass, and
slid lower to tease his crack. Then Warrick deftly pushed
down the back before pulling the front of Leon’s underwear
out and over his erection, and Leon’s cock hit Warrick’s torso
with a fleshy slap.

“Hmm, what’s that, then?” Warrick asked.
“You know exactly what that is,” Leon murmured

against Warrick’s lips, and then gasped as a finger swirled
over his cockhead, and again when his lover brought the
finger to his lips and licked off Leon’s sticky precum.

With a long, appreciative “hmmm,” Warrick flipped Leon

onto his back and all but dove onto Leon’s cock, one hand
holding Leon in place and the other teasing his balls and
sliding down lower to the opening beneath.

Leon writhed on the bed, torn between pushing deeper

into the moist heat of Warrick’s mouth or back against the
finger nudging his ass. Then, just as he was about to go mad
from indecision, both the mouth and the finger were gone.

“Warrick,” Leon whined.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Lube?”
Leon reached out and fumbled with the top drawer of

his nightstand. “Here,” he said, pulling out a small tube and
a strip of foil packets. He sank back into the pillows, every
fiber of his body taut with anticipation as he heard the bed
creak and felt Warrick’s weight shift above him. The bed
dipped, the cap of the lubricant tube opened with an audible
snap, and Leon fancied he could hear the hiss of air rushing
back into it after a generous glob was dispensed. Then he
heard the crinkle of foil and a cold slickness was spreading
into his most intimate of places, causing him to flinch.

“Sorry,” Warrick’s voice came softly from somewhere

above him. “Too fast?”

“No, just… cold,” Leon said, pushing back slightly.
“Okay,” Warrick said. “Just let me know if you need me

to slow down.”

And that was the last bit of conversation Leon processed

coherently as Warrick’s fingers slid into him, surprisingly
deft and gentle for their size. A longing ache spread through
his body, warm and urgent, making his nerves sing with
every twitch of the fingertips within. Then Warrick’s tongue
snaked out and lapped gently at the underside of his
cockhead, running around the flared ridge before Warrick
swallowed him down, fingers curling just enough to hit the
spot inside that always turned him into a sputtering mess.
For a time that was both too brief and a blissful eternity, all
he felt was the heat and tightness of Warrick’s mouth and
the surge of pleasure each time Warrick grazed against his
prostate. Too soon he felt himself stiffen in Warrick’s mouth
and became aware of his fingers gripping the other man’s
head.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Warrick,” he groaned, “I’m—”
The fingers withdrew, and he felt one of his hands being

firmly but gently removed from Warrick’s scalp. “Well, we
can’t have that, can we?” Warrick asked, his eyes glinting as
they met Leon’s bewildered gaze. Absently, Warrick snagged
a string of precum before it could fall from Leon’s cock to his
belly and sighed with happiness as he licked it from his
finger. “You know, I can’t decide if I want to ride you or slide
into you.”

Leon grabbed his lover’s hand before Warrick could

complete another tasting and brought Warrick’s fingers to
his own mouth, tasting himself as he suckled gently,
watching Warrick’s eyes carefully as he did. “Well, both
sound… delicious,” he said, guiding Warrick’s hand back to
his own rampant cock, “but given that I’m already all lubed,
relaxed, and ready….”

Warrick needed no further urging and reached over to

grab the foil-wrapped condom before looking around for
something to wipe the lube from his hand.

“Give that here,” Leon said, taking it from him and

tearing it open.

“Thanks,” Warrick said, holding his hand out for the

rubber sheath.

“Nuh-uh. Come here,” Leon said with a grin.
Warrick flushed and moved over on the bed, his hips

thrusting forward almost obscenely. Taking the tip of the
condom in his mouth, Leon used his lips and tongue to roll it
down Warrick’s length, finding he required a few attempts to
get it right as he tried to avoid using his teeth. When he

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

finally got everything in place, he sat back and stared down
at his handiwork.

“That was much less sexy than I thought it would be,”

Leon said.

Warrick opened his eyes and stared at him. “You’ve

never done that before?”

Leon shrugged. “No, saw it in a film.”
Warrick’s chuckle was slightly strained. “Well, it felt

bloody good at this end.”

Even clad in rubber, Warrick was impressive, his

member twitching rhythmically as Leon gazed down at it,
fancying he could see the precum oozing into the rubber
reservoir at the top of the prophylactic.

“So I see,” Leon said speculatively.
Warrick shook his head. “No, give me a minute, babe. If

you don’t….”

Leon’s grin grew, and he pushed Warrick back down

onto the bed, kneeling astride his hips and reaching behind
him to grasp Warrick’s cock, bringing it up to his entrance
and pushing back slightly.

“Leeeeon….” Warrick’s cry was a wish and a prayer, and

his hands clamped around Leon’s hips, halting Leon’s
attempts to take Warrick fully inside of him.

“God, I’m glad you’re not as thick as you are long,” Leon

said, wriggling a bit.

Warrick’s hands tensed, and Leon winced, wondering if

he’d have bruises the next day. “Please go slow,” Warrick
whispered. “I’m not going to last very long if you don’t.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Leon smiled and leaned down to kiss Warrick soundly.

“I thought I’d be saying that to you.”

Warrick used his teeth to tug at Leon’s lower lip and

thrust his hips ever so gently upward, sliding that little bit
deeper in. “I thought I’d be on top. Well, you know, actually
on top.”

Leon sighed with pleasure and slid down another inch.

“So did I, but—” He gasped as Warrick nudged his prostate,
and talk was forgotten. Instead, he rose up slightly and
rocked back against Warrick’s erection, grinding faster and
faster against his lover, pausing only slightly when he felt
the heat of Warrick’s groin press up against his ass. Bracing
himself against Warrick’s powerful shoulders, Leon moved
faster, moaning as Warrick’s thrusts met his own
movements. When a lube-slicked hand reached out to stroke
him, he lost it, covering Warrick’s belly with pearly white
cum. Almost at the same time, Warrick’s hips slammed hard
against his ass and fingers tensed on his hips, holding him
close as Warrick spent his load deep inside Leon, his face
locked in contortions of pleasure. For a moment they stayed
perfectly still, the only sound in the room their ragged
breathing, and then Leon slumped down against Warrick’s
larger frame, nuzzling his lover’s neck.

“Can we do that every night?” he asked.
Warrick’s laugh was both surprised and tired. “I don’t

know. We can try. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to cum
for a few days after that performance, though.”

“That good, huh?”
“Mmm-hmm.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

There was never any question about Warrick staying.

After a few arbitrary attempts at cleaning themselves up,
they both fell into Leon’s bed and slept, Leon finding himself
cradled comfortably against Warrick’s strongly muscled
frame.

T PRECISELY

7:23 a.m., the Earth rotated enough that the

morning sunlight slanted over the backyard fence, past the
outside corner of the living room, and slipped between the
venetian blinds to play softly over the rumpled gray-and-
white striped sheets on Leon’s double bed. Grumbling about
daylight savings, Leon opened his eyes, blearily squinting
into the light. His body felt sated, languid, and slightly sore
in strange places, and he smiled as he recalled the events of
the previous night. Stretching slowly he rolled over to face
his lover.

“Warrick, are you—”
Leon rolled over to find the other side of his bed empty

and the mattress cool.

“—awake?”
Leon sighed and glanced around his room. It was a

small space, containing his bookshelf, desk, floordrobe, and
paper piles

. Yeah, should have cleaned the place up, he

thought, sagging back into the pillows. Fuck! This was

Leon’s room also contained three glasses, two mugs—one of them half-full of cold

tea—four pairs of clean underwear, eight pairs of used underwear, including one extra-
large that did not belong to him, ten gigabytes of porn, and one family photo hidden in a
frame beneath a beach picnic snap of him and Krissy. Additionally, there was also a
huntsman spider in the corner, but Leon didn’t notice it for another four days.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

exactly why he never brought guys home. Or dated. Or
flirted. Or—

A high-pitched squeal from the kitchen had him bolting

out of bed and nearly tripping over a pair of khaki shorts.
Warrick was half-crouched in the kitchen doorway, clutching
an empty dish to his front. A slightly bedraggled Krissy was
in the living room, one manicured hand covering her glasses.

“You’re Warrick, right?” she said.
“Uh… yeah.”
“Krissy. Hi.”
“Oh wow, you’re Krissy? Leon’s told me so much about

you.”

“And he’s told me a lot about you, but not in so much

detail.”

“Oh my God, you’re making me breakfast?” Leon asked.
“That’s your takeaway from this situation?” Krissy

demanded, turning to glare at Leon. “He’s naked and….”
Krissy turned around to face the door so quickly her shoes
squeaked. “Why am I the only one here wearing pants?”

“Well, we were—” Leon started.
“Do not finish that sentence,” Krissy said. “I don’t need

any mental images.”

“…getting up?”
“Mmm, really could have done without that one,

chickadee.”

“Waking up,” Leon said firmly. “Waking up from sleep.

That is all.”

“Well not quite all if you count—” Warrick started.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Warrick!”
“Sorry.”
“Let’s just get some clothes. Now?”
“Okay,” Warrick agreed, almost running to Leon’s room.
“Oh, Warrick?” Krissy said, her back still turned.
“Yes?”
“Pyrex dishes are transparent.”

FTER

that day Leon became a fixture at the hospital, and

Warrick a frequent guest for Sunday brunch, especially once
Leon and Krissy discovered his cooking was much better
than either of theirs.

“Why don’t we ever go to your place?” Leon asked one

Thursday. “I have Fridays off from uni, and you live out east
anyway.”

Warrick shrugged. “A lot of hospital staff live where I do,

and I’d rather not have rumors start up about my love life.”

Leon’s spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. “Excuse

me?”

Warrick looked around the brightly lit interior of

Ghanda’s Indian restaurant and leaned in closer. “I’m not
out at work.”

“Then why did you hit on me?”
“You were cute,” Warrick said. “Look, I’m sure people

know. Staff anyway, but can you imagine what would
happen if it was common knowledge to patients?”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“They’ll get over it if they want their meds,” Leon said

around a mouthful of butter chicken.

“And my job?”
“Are you telling me the hospital doesn’t have an equal-

opportunity policy?”

Warrick sighed and reached for the basket of garlic

naan. “They do, but they also have a ‘code of conduct’.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.”
“Do you remember Monday when you dragged me into

the bathroom for half an hour?”

Leon licked his lips. “Mmm. Yeah, I do.”
“Someone saw or heard. Probably heard.”
“Do I need to gag you next time?” Leon asked slyly.
“Leon, there can’t be a next time.”
Leon’s spoon hit the table with a clatter. “Are you

breaking up with me?”

“No! But you can’t keep coming around at work.”
“You work in a public building, Warrick. I think you’ll

find I can walk in whenever I want.”

“Leon, I work there. I can’t have you coming over and

distracting me all the time.”

“Oh, is that what I’m doing? You’re the one who keeps

dropping by Rook’s room whenever I’m around. Maybe you
should learn some self-control,” Leon said, tossing his
napkin onto the table and standing up.

“Where are you going?” Warrick asked.
“Home,” Leon said shortly, rifling through his wallet and

throwing a twenty on the table.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“I

DON

’

think he meant it, Leon,” Krissy said as they

stripped down to their swimsuits—Krissy in a navy-blue one-
piece and Leon in sporty orange-and-black swim trunks.
“That doesn’t sound like breakup talk.”

“No, it just sounds like overly controlling boyfriend talk,”

Leon said, fishing a pair of goggles out of his backpack. “You
will do this; you won’t do that. These are the cans and can’ts
of your movements for the rest of eternity, dictated by the big
man, who knows best.”

Krissy tied her hair back into a ponytail and tucked it

up under her favorite pink swimming cap. “You know, I’m
not really sure what to say without sounding like I’m taking
his side,” she said as she stepped down into the murky pool
of seawater. “Oh, that’s cold,” she said, wincing.

“You should do what I do and just jump straight in.”
“You’re just going to jump straight into this?” Krissy

asked incredulously.

“Um, yes?” Leon said. “And I’ll splash around trying not

to scream until the pins and needles stop.”

“And why couldn’t we just go to the campus pool?”
“One, this is free, and two, it’s an ocean pool. They bring

the water in fresh every two weeks, and there’s no chlorine.”

Krissy inched further down the sloping sandy bottom of

the pool until she was hip deep in the water. “And there’s a
lot of sand, making it impossible to see the bottom. Isn’t it
dangerous swimming in murky water?”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Leon sighed. “There are no barracuda in ocean pools,

Krissy.”

“Sure, and when they find my chewed-up body washed

up on the beach, I will blame you.”

“Krissy, if they find your body washed up on a beach,

you won’t be able to blame anyone—you’ll be dead.”

Krissy scowled and splashed Leon with near-frigid

seawater, the cold striking his skin like needles. “Fuck, that
was cold.”

“I know. Why do you think I splashed you?”
Ignoring the taunt, Leon waded into the pool

purposefully until he was waist deep, and then jumped,
ducking his head under and showering Krissy with cold
droplets.

When he resurfaced his eyes were squinched shut, and

he could feel Krissy’s amusement. “You so deserved that.”

“Yeah, okay. Whatever,” Leon said, wiping his eyes.

“Remind me to put on my goggles next time.”

Krissy paused as if in thought. “No,” she said firmly and

struck out for the seaward wall.

ESPITE

his misgivings, Leon headed back to the hospital to

sit with Rook. It was Friday, and just like any other Friday,
Leon walked into room 14B, now devoid of the snoring
woman, who had been wheeled out some two weeks ago.
Sitting down, he pulled out a sheaf of past accounting exam
papers to go through.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Sometimes boys suck,” Leon said a few hours later,

looking up at Rook’s perfectly composed face. “Okay, so
that’s probably something you’d hear more than you’d say. I
guess I’m just stressed about the exams. You’re missing
exams. Huh. I’m not sure if that’s something you’d like or
not.” Putting his most recent paper to one side, he stretched
back into the poo-brown chair, the vertebrae in his neck
cracking. “I’m just sick of everyone telling me how to live my
life. ‘It’s a phase; you’ll grow out of it,’ or ‘Have you tried not
being gay?’ And of course, ‘You can’t work here anymore;
you don’t fit in with the company culture.’” Leon closed his
eyes and clutched at the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, sorry. I
should really stop unloading on you, and I shouldn’t tell any
jokes about you being a good listener on account of the fact
that I don’t actually know you can listen. Krissy said I was
being insensitive making that joke—although more to the
point, she said it was old and clichéd.” Rising to his feet, he
leaned against the roller table and stared down at Rook,
whose blond hair had grown out enough to frame his face in
soft curls. “You know, you’re going to need a haircut when
you wake up from all of this.” Reaching out, he pushed
Rook’s fringe away from his forehead. “Definitely going to
need a haircut.”

He was pulling his fingers back when Rook’s eyelids

fluttered.

“Rook?” Looking down at the bed, he wondered if he’d

imagined it. “Is this where I ask you to squeeze my fingers?”
he added, grasping Rook’s left hand in his own. “Okay,
you’re not that awake.” Sighing, he looked back at Rook’s
face and saw a telltale flutter again. “Doctor!”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

It took Leon a few moments to find the bed remote and

hit the call button, and the medical staff were there in less
than a minute, with a tall, muscular nurse leading the way.
When Warrick rounded the corner he stopped, and the rest
of the staff nearly ran into him.

“What’s going on?” he asked.
“I think he’s waking up,” Leon said.
For a brief moment their eyes locked, and then Warrick

looked down to Rook and Leon’s joined hands. “All right.
Please step back so we can work?”

“Sure,” Leon said, backing away from the bed as Rook

was checked over by the doctors. After a brief consultation,
the staff started to wheel the bed out of the room.

“Wait—where are you taking him?” Leon asked.
The doctor in the horn-rimmed glasses had a few brief

words with Warrick, and the large man nodded and walked
back into the room. “They’re going to see if they can wake
him up,” Warrick said.

“How?”
“Hypothermia.”
“What?”
“They’re going to cool him by about two degrees. There’s

been no sign of brain swelling for a few weeks, but he doesn’t
appear to be lucid. The cold has been known to help in some
cases.”

“So he’s not waking up.”
“Not in the sitting-up-and-talking sense. They won’t

keep him cold for more than a day.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Right. Okay. As long as they know what they’re doing, I

suppose.”

“Leon?”
“What?”
“Are we okay?”
Leon set his jaw. “You’re at work.”
“That’s not the point,”
“Isn’t it?” Leon asked. “I should go,” he added, picking

up his backpack and heading for the door.

“Do you want to do dinner tomorrow?”
Leon paused. “Sorry. I picked up some extra shifts at

work, and I’ve got an exam on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday night, then?”
“We’ll see.”

UESDAY

came and went, along with debits and credits,

assets and liabilities, and Leon continued to stay close to
campus, even allowing Krissy to drag him to the university
swimming pool despite the chlorine content.

“Don’t you hate having to shower twice to get the smell

off your skin?” he asked.

“I can shower twice and be back at work in less time

than it takes to get to the beach,” Krissy said with a shrug.
“Things are getting interesting. There’s a lot of buzz about
Rook’s trial around the office.”

“Rook’s not on trial. He’s the victim!”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Krissy waved a hand at him and leaned back into the

comfy chair, her free hand clutching her cappuccino mug.
“You know what I mean. The guys who assaulted him. We
don’t have the case, but now that he’s awake….”

“He is? Oh right, yeah. He is. It was in the paper.”
“Leon,” Krissy said, affecting her serious tone, “you

haven’t left the house recently unless it was for work, exams,
food, or me dragging you swimming.”

“Oh, I can see where this is going.”
“Good,” Krissy said. “So I don’t need to say that I know

about Warrick?”

“Well, you didn’t have to, but you just did.”
“He’s been calling.”
Leon shrugged, cradling his tall glass of iced chocolate

in both hands. “I put a call blocker app on my phone. I really
wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah. He’s been calling me.”
“Then tell him politely to fuck off.”
“Chickadee, did you ever think—”
“No.”
“Right, clearly,” Krissy said, slapping her hand down on

her vibrating phone. “Oh look, I have an exam. See you on
the other side.”

“Okay.”
“Leon,” Krissy said seriously as she stood up. “Leon,

look at me.”

Slowly he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “What?”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“You need to work out what you really want from all

this. Because you’re sucky company when you’re moping.”

“I am not moping.”
“Right, you’re just addicted to World of Warcraft again.”
“It’s not an addiction. It’s a socially acceptable pastime.”
“Leon, you were swearing for five hours because you

couldn’t unlock the trampoline achievement. And you know
that coding is random.”

“What’s your point?”
Krissy grinned brightly. “Our Internet usage is about to be

shaped

, and you’re going to get hit with massive lag issues. I

figure you’ve got about two hours of game time left until our
downloads reset on the twenty-fifth.” Turning, she walked out
of the café before he could formulate a suitably outraged
response. Using the long-handled teaspoon to extract the last
of the ice cream from the bottom of his glass, he licked it clean,
feeling the tang of chocolate syrup

coating his tongue.

Usually after exams he felt a sense of relief and took at least a
day—sometimes up to three—to unwind before hitting the
books again for the next one. Only this time, it wasn’t the
same. Possibly this was because the next exam he had
scheduled was econometrics, which appeared to be statistics
renamed

someone

who

wanted

sound

Shaping, or “throttling,” is an Australian invention designed to prevent customers

being outraged after going over their internet usage limits and being charged per
megabyte downloaded over their contracted amount. Essentially your fancy broadband
connection gets slowed down to dial-up speeds, and you are gently reminded to pay more
money for a better plan, or that you really shouldn’t be watching so much internet porn.
Or both.

Reports suggest that the average chocolate bar contains about six insect fragments,

typically legs. Some contain up to thirty, depending on brand. Chocolate syrup tends to
have fewer insect particles, but Leon was unfortunate enough to get three in his one
serving of iced chocolate. And a fourth from the commercial ice cream.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

nonmathematical, but he was also honest enough with himself
to admit that it wasn’t just exam stress. Putting the glass back
on the counter

, he headed for the bus stop and the bus that

would take him back to John Hunter Hospital.

14B,

the sounds of daytime television filled the room,

and in the far corner, several empty jelly cups lay on the
rolling table, next to a stack of unopened ones. “You’re up,”
he said, walking over to the young man who was now sitting
propped against a mound of pillows.

The smile on Rook’s face was the first expression Leon

had seen in over a month, and the honest sincerity in Rook’s
blue eyes released some of the tension that had been locked
into his body. “Leon! Man, I’m glad to see you.”

“You are?”
Rook’s smile faltered. “Of course I am. When I woke up

and you weren’t here, I thought maybe you didn’t—and I saw
the candle, and I know I should have trusted you just had
exams, but my brain’s been so scrambled, and I don’t
remember everything and—oh crap,” he said as one
gesticulating arm knocked some of the jelly cups onto the floor.

“I’ll get those,” Leon said, walking around the bed and

dropping his backpack next to the poo-brown chair.

“Thanks,” Rook said, as Leon threw the empties into the

bin and picked up the unopened cups.

“You have something against apple?”

Leaving one cockroach fragment to be flushed down the sink by an industrial

dishwasher.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“What?” Rook asked, pushing his fringe out of his eyes

as Leon stood up and placed the cups back on the rolling
table.

“Apple,” Leon said, poking at a jelly cup. “You’ve eaten

all the raspberry and none of the apple.”

“You mean I’ve eaten the red and none of the green,”

Rook said. “I found out I don’t like the green two days ago.”

“It’s apple.”
“No. I don’t remember everything, but I know that’s not

apple. I like apple.”

“You don’t remember everything?” Leon asked.
Rook shook his head, his face falling. “No. I remember

how to do things and some bits and pieces from my studies,
but I don’t remember everything. And then when you weren’t
here for days—did we have a fight?”

“A fight? No! Why would we have a fight?”
“I don’t know. I just thought…. Never mind.” Rook

smiled and turned so he was facing Leon more directly. “Can
I get a kiss now?”

Leon froze. “What?”
“A kiss. I brushed my teeth and everything. Well….”

Rook flushed. “All right, I had help, but that’s not the point.”

“A-and what is the point?” Leon asked warily.
“That I’m not so delicate that I wouldn’t want a kiss

from my boyfriend.”

Leon pushed away from the table, hands spread before

him. “Ah, Rook….”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“What? We did fight? But you said we didn’t. Are you

breaking up with me?” Rook asked, his face falling. “The
nurse yesterday said I’d been out for six weeks, but I’m still
the same guy I was before I went in here.”

Leon swallowed. “Rook, I don’t know how to tell you

this, but you’re not—”

“Okay, so I’m in hospital, but I’ll get better. I can’t

believe you’re—”

“Not gay,” Leon pushed on.
“What? Of course I am!”
“And I’m not your boyfriend. We’re not even friends,

really.”

“But you’re Leon,” Rook objected. “Your family is from

Singleton, you wish you lived in Sydney, love Oxford Street,
think Star Trek is a guilty pleasure, and you’re studying
business management and think the only good thing about
the Wolverine movie was Hugh Jackman naked.”

“Well, yes, but—”
“You think kissing is an integral part of sex, your

favorite food is Korean, but never here because it’s not
authentic, and you worry that you’re too skinny.”

“And where did we meet, then?” Leon asked.
Rook’s eyes closed. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I can’t

remember everything. I know I study here. I know my
parents are in Western Australia, but I don’t know what they
look like. I can’t remember much of my life before now at all,
but I know you,” Rook said. “Now how is it that you’re the
only thing I remember if you’re not important to me?”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“I don’t know,” Leon said. “Maybe because I’ve been

coming here and talking at you for a while?”

Rook closed his eyes. “And why would a complete

stranger do that?” he asked, his voice so soft Leon almost
didn’t hear the question.

“To say ‘thanks’ initially,” Leon said. “But then Warrick

said you didn’t have many visitors and that talking to coma
patients could help them recover and—I just didn’t think you
should be alone.”

“So I’m what? A pity fuck?”
“We’ve never fucked,” Leon said with a cough.
“You know what I mean,” Rook said testily.
“You’re not a pity anything,” Leon said. “I just don’t

understand why your friends haven’t visited you. You did a
really great thing and… I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“And what did I do, exactly? No one will tell me

anything. They just say ‘it’ll come back’.”

“You, uh, stood up to three homophobic assholes and

got, well, put in here,” Leon said. “A-and you didn’t have to.”

“Yes I did.”
“No, you didn’t. That’s the point: you’re straight. All you

had to do was tell them that and—”

“I had to do it,” Rook said firmly. “That’s not right, and I

won’t stand for it.”

“You didn’t.”
“Damn right I didn’t.”
“I thought you didn’t remember.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“I don’t. But I’m damn glad I didn’t. That’s important.”

Rook shrugged. “Maybe I was just closeted and this is a
chance to be really me. Don’t throw away the presents life
gives you before looking at them, at least. That’s what I
always say.”

“You do?”
Rook paused. “Yeah, I think I do. I know it’s easier to

say ‘Always look on the bright side,’ but I wanted something
original to say when I was a kid and came up with that
clunker.”

Leon smiled. “Okay, but I don’t think you were a closet

case. Everything I’ve heard about you is that you were very
supportive of gay rights, but you weren’t gay. I hear you even
went to Mardi Gras this year. I don’t see why you wouldn’t
come out if you were gay.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m losing the most important

thing in my life right now?” Rook asked.

“I don’t know.”
“Are you single?”
“Um, it’s complicated,” Leon said awkwardly.
“But maybe?”
“Rook, if you weren’t gay before, why would you be gay

now? Maybe you’re just confused with the whole… amnesia
and all.”

“Do you have any idea how offensive that is?”
Leon sighed. “Yes, but that doesn’t stop it from being

possible. I’ve never heard of anyone’s sexuality changing
after injury.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Actually it’s a rare but known phenomenon that’s been

documented since at least the 1980s,” Rook said. “Wait—
how do I know that?”

“Maybe from your studies? You’re a physio, right?”
“I am? Wait—yes, I am! I know that. Hey, I remember

stuff. I remember….”

“Yes?”
“Sitting in my underwear on day one thinking I needed

to bulk up fast if that was what the rest of the course was
going to be like.”

Leon smiled. “So the rest of your memory could come

back. And you could remember that you’re straight.”

“Or that I was and might not be anymore,” Rook said,

his tone hopeful.

There was a polite cough, and both Rook and Leon

looked up to see Warrick standing awkwardly at the edge of
Rook’s partition. “The, ah, the police want to chat with you
again, Travis.”

“I should probably go,” Leon said. “I’ll, uh, check in

later.”

Rook’s eyes narrowed. “Promise?”
Leon smiled a little awkwardly. “Promise.”
Warrick was quiet as they left the room. “Krissy said

you blocked my number.”

Leon nodded. “I figured that should be enough of a

hint.”

“Leon, we’ve had two other cases of homophobic

violence come in over the last three weeks. I just want to
make sure that we’re both safe.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“I thought this was all about what I can and can’t do at

your workplace.”

“Well, it is my workplace, and as much as I like having

you here, I’m being threatened with termination if I’m seen in
a compromising position again, and if I—this is my only way
out, Leon.”

“And that means I’m not ‘allowed’ to be here?”
“Okay, why am I hearing inverted commas around that

word there?”

“Since when did you get to decide what I can and can’t

do, Warrick?”

“What?”
“I can’t come around anymore, I should leave this place

alone. You know, you don’t own me.”

“I know. It’s just—”
“Just?”
“A bad choice of words?” Warrick suggested, leaning up

against the robin’s-egg-blue-and-white wall. “I’m used to
dealing with my brothers and sisters, okay? After my dad ran
out on us, I had to help Mum set all the boundaries for
them, and I guess the word choices stuck.”

“And if I was your kid brother, you and me would really

be illegal,” Leon said.

“Ha! Yeah, it would be. Okay, I take the point. I really

didn’t mean to dictate or restrict your movements. I just
need you to understand that I’m going to have to keep my
hands and all other body parts away from you while I’m
here.”

“I can deal with that.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“And I probably can’t keep taking coffee breaks with

you.”

“What?”
“You know why.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Fair doesn’t really come into it, Leon.”
“I know. I just don’t have to like it.”
“Me either,” Warrick said. “So are we good?”
“I don’t know, Warrick. I spent the last three years

fighting my parents to make sure I could be who I am and
want to be.”

Warrick stepped closer. “I get that. I do. And I really like

who you are, and I’m sorry if it felt like I was asking you to
change, because I’m not. All right?”

“You’re, uh, standing really close,” Leon said, looking up

into Warrick’s eyes. “Really close.”

“Yeah, um, sorry,” Warrick said, stepping back. “I’ve

just—I missed you.”

“It hasn’t been that long, Warrick.”
“And that means I’m not allowed to miss you?”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m just—I should get back to work. Talk to

you later?”

“Warrick?”
“Yeah?”
“Rook thinks he’s my boyfriend.”
“But Rook’s straight.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Leon sighed. “Maybe not anymore.”
“Wait—let me get this right,” Warrick said. “Rook’s lost

his memory, thinks he’s gay, and that you’re his boyfriend?”

Leon nodded. “That’s about it, yes.”
“So, I mess up and all of a sudden you’re with a straight

guy?”

Leon recoiled slightly at Warrick’s vehemence. “No.

Should I be?”

“How can you say that?”
“How can you?”
“What?”
“Either you trust me or you don’t, Warrick, and clearly

you don’t.”

“I do trust you, Leon.”
“Just not with another man. I get it. I get it.” Taking a

shuddering breath, Leon picked up his bag and turned away.
“If you ever decide to treat me like a grown-up, you let me
know.”

Heavy footsteps sounded behind him, and a hand

landed on his shoulder. “Leon!”

“Don’t touch me.”
The hand dropped. “But—”
“You’re at work, after all.”
The sound of a throat clearing made them both turn

around to see a dark-haired woman in blue scrubs. “Yes, he
is,” she said, walking up and thrusting a file into Warrick’s
hands. “You’re needed in ICU, Warrick. Don’t let admin
catch you having a domestic, no matter how cute he is.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Yeah, work,” Leon said. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
“This isn’t over, Leon.”
“Really? Because I thought it was,” Leon said, starting

off down the corridor.

“Leon!”
“Hey, weren’t you needed in ICU?”
Warrick didn’t reply, and shortly after, Leon heard his

slow footsteps heading off in the opposite direction. Ignoring
the tears welling in his eyes, he headed back toward the
main elevators and back toward his study of statistics.

E DIDN

’

make it back to the hospital until Friday,

creeping furtively into Rook’s room just before noon. Rook
was lying with his leg elevated while he flipped through
daytime television.

“You should, ah, get a book or something,” Leon said by

way of greeting.

“I know,” Rook said with a sigh. “But I have no idea

what sort of books I like.”

Leon chuckled. “That could be a problem, I guess.” He

looked around the corner of the room, which was now much
less spartan, if nearly as empty as before. “This place looks
like it’s had a few parties. Where’d everyone go?”

“Don’t know,” Rook shrugged. “A lot of people came

through, and I didn’t remember any of them. It was like
speed dating with people I didn’t really like and don’t see
how I could have liked them.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Sounds… frustrating,” Leon said.
“You haven’t been by in a while.”
“Had my last exam,” Leon said, dragging the chair

around so he could see the screen that was suspended from
the ceiling. “And, ah, Warrick and I stopped being Warrick
and I.”

Rook stared at him for a long moment before lifting his

left arm. “Come here.”

Smiling despite himself, Leon leaned into Rook’s hug.

Rook smelled surprisingly good. Warm and masculine,
unmarred by stale sweat or the cloying notes of artificial
deodorants.

Even as he breathed in Rook’s scent, Leon felt the other

man kiss the top of his head. “It’s okay,” Rook murmured.

Leon sighed. “No, it’s not.”
“Okay, it’s not,” Rook said. “Sorry. I just wish I could

help you feel better.”

Leon grinned into Rook’s neck. “Me too.”
“Thanks. You know, I think you’re the only friend I have

right now.”

“You have friends.”
“That I know and like,” Rook added.
“Ah,” Leon said. “Well, give it time. The doctors said

your memory would come back, right?”

“Might,” Rook said. “They said it might come back. It’s

funny. I can remember my very early childhood, and I keep
getting flashes of the rest of it, but otherwise… nothing.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Okay, you know, I should move. This position is

straining my back.”

“You can climb in if you want,” Rook suggested.
Leon chuckled. “Thanks, but, um, your ribs.”
“Will cope.”
“They’ll cope better if I don’t lean on them.”
Rook sighed. “All right. I get it. You’re not attracted to

me. I’m not buff enough for you.”

“I didn’t say that!”
“No, but looking at your ex, I mean. There’s no way I

could match that, even before all this happened.”

Leon sighed. “What is it with men and your jealousies?”
“What? You’re the one who’s saying I’m not good enough

for you.”

“I never said that.”
“You implied it.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Rookford. I was just trying to imply

that I’m still not certain you’re not straight, and I’m not
really looking to get my heart broken here.”

“Neither am I,” Rook said. “But how can you know

unless you try?”

“Try? Since when was sexuality something you tried?”
“Doesn’t everyone do that?” Rook asked, surprised.

“Besides, I should point out that as far as I know, I’m still a
virgin—in memory, if not in actuality. Don’t you think you
should help relieve me of at least part of that burden?”

“Part?”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Well, I’d still like that kiss,” Rook said hopefully.
“Since when was virginity a burden?”
Rook sighed. “I’m trying to get a kiss here. Can we just

go with it?”

Leon looked down at the other man, his expression

severe. “All right. One kiss. That’s it. And only to shut you
up about all this already.”

“Well, isn’t a kiss the perfect way to—”
Leon shut him up with a kiss.
In most stories, the first recorded kiss is magical,

breathtaking, and imbued with great meaning, like the start
of a love won or lost, destinies realized, or the last mocking
gesture before a doom is pronounced. They often forget the
bumped noses, teeth scraping against each other, not only
because such minor trivialities are typically lost in the
passion of the moment, but also because great romances are
not of bumped noses made, both of which figured rather
prominently in Leon and Rook’s first kiss, along with a long
pause before they separated, staring at each other.

Then Leon leaned back into the poo-brown chair and

stared up at the television screen, which was showing an
episode of some cooking show involving tomato and
capsicum mascots with large cartoon eyes.

“So,” he said after the screen had faded to an

overenthusiastic middle-aged male host in a pink T-shirt.

“Yeah, okay. I’m really not gay,” Rook said.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Yeah,” Leon said. “Hey look, they’re making hors

d’oeuvres

.”

“I don’t like those,” Rook said. “They’re way too fiddly.

Huh. I know a new thing about me.”

“Two new things.”
“Yeah,” Rook said pensively. “So why do I feel like I love

you so much?”

“Because I’m one of the only people who came and

spoke to you for the last few weeks?” Leon suggested.

Rook shook his head. “No, it’s more than that. I keep

remembering you, back… home?”

“Rook, we’ve never met before Newy. I told you that.”
“True,” Rook said. “Maybe my mind’s just being stupid.”
“Stupid,” Leon said. “Is that a technical term?”
Rook grinned. “Yeah. That’s medical jargon at its finest.”
They sat in silence for a while longer, watching a lady in

a red apron cutting up parboiled potatoes on TV. Just as the
camera cut to a man in a green apron blanching broccolini,
Leon’s phone rang. Glancing at the screen, he let it go to
voice mail.

“Warrick,” he explained at Rook’s inquiring gaze. “He

calls every few days.”

“Shouldn’t you answer it?”
“I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”
“I’m sorry.”

When Leon had first seen this word written down, he’d pronounced it “whores

devours.” After sending him to the principal’s office, his English teacher, an old lady in
her seventies, had needed to go and have a bit of a lie down.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“For what? You didn’t do anything.”
Rook blushed. “I should have realized you wouldn’t have

been ready to—moving on takes time.”

Leon shrugged. “Maybe, but it was a nice distraction.”
Rook smiled. “Thank you, I’ll take that as a

compliment.”

“It was.”
“You know, if I was—if I could be—I’d completely want

to date you. I still kind of wish I was dating you.”

“Just as well you aren’t,” Leon said, pouring himself

some water from the nearby jug. “I’m nowhere ready to date
anyone.”

“Okay, well I’m sorry for being a massive cocktease in

any case.”

Leon chuckled. “You don’t have to apologize for being

who you are. Or not being who you thought you were. I think
you get off on account of massive head trauma.”

Rook sighed. “Did I tell you they’re kicking me out?”
“What?”
“Well, not kicking me out as such, but the doctors say

there’s no remaining physical damage they can help with.
Either my memory comes back by itself or it doesn’t.”

“Rook, you’re not really in any condition to look after

yourself,” Leon objected.

“It’s just a broken leg. I’ll manage,” Rook said firmly. “I

have to go back eventually, and it might help jog my
memory. At least, I hope so—there’s the court hearing
coming up soon.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Krissy told me everyone was talking about that. I’m

surprised it’s going to trial so quickly.”

Rook grimaced. “I think someone pulled some strings.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know where you live?”
“I do now. My housemates stopped by and told me. Plus

whoever did all this to me left me my wallet, and it lists my
home address as the same place.”

“Did you like them?”
“I don’t know. I think so.”
“Do you need help moving back in?”
“No. I don’t have anything to bring back, and Paul

dropped off some clean clothes for me. But, um, I’d
appreciate the moral support.”

“That I can do,” Leon said. “I suppose I can also push

the wheelchair.”

“Wheelchair?”
“You have a broken leg, Rook. They’re not going to make

you limp out on crutches. Wheelchairs are hospital policy. I
learnt that from House.”

“What’s that?”
“Hospital drama. It’s awesome because it has Hugh

Laurie playing an American.”

“Who?”
Leon grinned. “British comedian. I’ll bring over some

episodes for you.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Can there be popcorn?” Rook asked hopefully. “I can’t

remember what it tastes like, but I think I miss it.”

“Yes, there can be popcorn,” Leon said. “As long as you

have something to make it in.”

“I have no idea about that.”
“It’s okay. We’ll check your kitchen,” Leon said. “I find it

hard to believe you wouldn’t have a microwave.”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out,” Rook said, although this

time his smile did not reach his eyes.

day of Rook’s discharge was warm and almost

summery, and Leon was glad for the breeze that was blowing
in off the sea. It rustled through the leaves of the white gums
and banksias and gusted under the wings of the seagulls,
raising their raucous chorus up and down the beaches and
open-air food courts as they searched for small fish from the
sea and hot chips from takeout discards. The blast of air
conditioning as Leon walked into the hospital was a welcome
relief from the subtropical heat, and Leon folded up his Dot
Dash sunglasses and slipped them into the pocket of his
light cotton shirt. Taking the lift up to Rook’s floor, he
ventured past the antiseptic-smelling nurses’ station, sans
Warrick, and headed to what was soon to no longer be
Rook’s room.

Rook was dressed in trackie-daks that had the right

pants leg cut along the outside, allowing him to get them
over his cast.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Leon, you made it,” Rook said, his face breaking into a

relieved grin.

Leon shrugged. “Of course. I said I’d come.”
“I know.”
A tall, bespectacled doctor cleared his throat. “Travis,

it’s been a pleasure having you here. If you need anything,
I’m just a phone call away, and we’ll see you in December for
a checkup, all right?”

“Yes, of course,” Rook said, swinging his good leg to and

fro as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Travis, it’s perfectly normal to be scared of heading into

a new environment, even if logically we both know your
home isn’t technically new. You’ll be experiencing it for the
first time, and that will be unsettling, but I believe you’re
ready to face this.”

Rook nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Patel. I’ll try to remember

that.”

A clanking in the corridor announced the arrival of the

promised wheelchair, pushed by the same dark-haired nurse
who had sent Warrick to the ICU the last time Leon had been
at the hospital.

“All set? Ready to get out of here?” she asked.
“Yes,” Rook said, nodding. “And no.”
The nurse smiled. “You’ll be fine, Travis. Come on, give

me your hand.”

“Huh?”
“Your favorite bracelet?” she said, holding up a pair of

scissors.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Rook laughed then and held out his right hand. “Thank

you, Sharon.”

The petite woman smiled and cut the hospital tag off

with one clip of her shears. “Come on, tough guy. Let’s get
you home.”

When Leon drove around to the front of the hospital,

Rook had a quizzical expression on his face. “I didn’t think
you drove.”

“I don’t usually,” Leon said, killing the engine and

stepping out. “But I figured today was a special occasion.”

“Thanks,” Rook said, as Leon stowed their backpacks

and Rook’s crutches in the old Yaris.

“Don’t mention it. What are friends for, if not to help out

and be man-crushed on?”

“I have no idea,” Rook said, as Sharon helped him into

the front seat of the car. “But if I think of anything else, I’ll
let you know.”

OOK

’

student flat turned out to be as tiny and poky as the

term usually implied. It had probably once been a large
family dwelling, but it was now shared by four guys and bore
the accumulation of student life with a quiet dignity that was
one Coke can short of a nervous breakdown. The front lawn
had been mowed back sometime in the last month, given
that it only came up to Leon’s ankles, but the garden beds
were overflowing with tangles of fuschias, daffodils, and
morning glory trailing up some hard-leaved bushes that Leon
could not identify. The brick house was clad in weathered

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

weatherboard, the paint outside gray and cracking over the
wooden slats that covered the brick interior. As they
approached the front door, Rook stopped and dug out a
bottle-opener key ring, heavy with keys.

“This could take a while,” he said with a sigh.
“Or we could knock,” Leon suggested. “You said you

have housemates, right?”

“Yes. Yes I do,” Rook said, grinning, and rapped smartly

on the door, causing a few flakes of blue paint to break off
and fall to the ground. They waited for a while, but there was
no sound from the house.

“Or maybe not,” Leon said. “Sorry.”
Rook shrugged and started trying keys in the lock, going

through four before finding the right one. Inside, the house
was quiet, and the two young men walked into a slightly
dusty living area with red couches, black cushions, and an
old boxy television in the corner. There was also a note on an
old wooden coffee table from Paul, informing Rook that
Bobby and Jonno had gone back to their families for
Christmas and wouldn’t be around, and that Paul had
ducked out to have dinner at his mum’s.

“So much for housemates,” Rook said. “Which room do

you think mine is?”

They explored the kitchen, with its linoleum floor and

collection of beer bottles for recycling, and while the place
was cleaner than Leon had expected, there was still enough
grunge in the brown carpet, spattered on the walls, and
collected in cracks in the floorboards to show that four

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

straight boys lived there—or more precisely, four straight
boys who weren’t very good at cleaning

“How about this one?” Leon asked, opening the door to

a good-sized bedroom facing out into the backyard.

“I don’t know,” Rook said. “None of this looks familiar.”
“Well, there’s a photo of you and a girl on the bedside

table,” Leon pointed out.

Rook crutched himself closer and stared down at the

faded image in its rough wooden frame—a class project for
woodworking, Leon later found out. “I wonder who she is.”

“Well, unless you have a thing for older women who

have the same cheekbones as you do, I’d say that’s your
mum.”

Turning himself around, Rook fell backward onto the

double bed, bouncing a few times before coming to a rest. “I
suppose it’s nice to be able to put a face to the voice.”

“Suppose?” Leon asked, dropping Rook’s backpack and

pulling over the wheeled office chair to sit on.

“I always thought it would come back,” Rook said. “You

know, like seeing her would bring back something but… no.
I have no clue who she is.”

“She looks nice.”
“She sounds nice,” Rook agreed. “She said she’ll fly over

to get me for Christmas.”

Leon smiled. “And that scares the pants off you, doesn’t

it?”

Rook nodded sheepishly. “How did you know?”

To be fair, this can equally apply to gay boys as straight boys, even if the gay boys

would like to have you think that particular stereotype does not apply to them.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“I was present this morning?” Leon suggested with a

smile. “Anyway, I saw a microwave in your kitchen so…
popcorn?” he asked, reaching into his bag and pulling out a
bag of microwavable kernels and a stack of DVDs.

“Sounds good,” Rook said, pushing himself in a sitting

position and adjusting his grip on the crutches. “Wait—what
if I don’t like popcorn?”

Leon rolled his eyes. “Then we raid your fridge until we

find something you do like.”

Rook paused, his head cocked to one side as he stared

up at Leon. “You like carrot sticks.”

“What?”
“You like carrot sticks.”
“Well, yes, but why are you saying it like it’s some great

big revelation?”

“Because I remember it,” Rook said, a smile tugging at

the corners of his mouth. “It was a trip to Sydney, and we
were a lot younger. We were at Taronga Zoo, and it was a
sunny day. You were holding a carrot stick in your left hand
and patting a kangaroo with your right when it went for the
carrot stick and freaked you out.”

“Rook, I’ve never been to Taronga other than on a school

trip,” Leon said. “And never with you.”

“Really?”
“Really. I think I’d remember if I met you before uni.”
Rook groaned and forced himself up from the bed. “Can

the brain manufacture memories?” he asked.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“According to Hollywood, yes,” Leon said with a grin.

“But if you’re talking real life, you’re the one studying
medicine, not me.”

“Great,” Rook said, crutching his way after Leon. “You

know, you think the doctors could have said I’d be getting
someone else’s memories back instead of my own.”

“I’d hardly call made-up memories ‘someone else’s’;

they’re still yours.”

“Sure, just not the me I was before I got whacked,” Rook

grumbled, following Leon into the kitchen.

Leon was silent as he put the popcorn bag into the

microwave and hit the timer to start it, and the two men
watched it go around and around behind the shielded glass,
slowly expanding as the corn kernels inside swelled and
popped. “Sorry,” Leon said eventually. “I can’t actually think
up anything supportive to say here.”

“That’s okay,” Rook said, limping over to the cupboards

and opening them one by one. “Any idea where the bowls
would be kept?”

“Nope,” Leon said with a grin. “I don’t know if you even

have bowls.”

“I do!” Rook said triumphantly, reaching into a

cupboard and pulling out a metal mixing bowl. “This’ll do,
right?”

“Sure,” Leon said, just as the microwave beeped to

indicate that it was done. “Although we could be lazy bums
and eat it straight from the bag.”

In the end they put the bag in the bowl and brought it

out to the lounge room, where they spent five minutes
hunting for the correct remotes for the TV and DVD player,

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

which they eventually found squashed between the couch
cushions. During the search, they also uncovered three
condoms—one used—and an extra-large pump-action bottle
of lube, a Wonder Woman comic book, a wooden spoon, and
half a brick with googly eyes stuck to it, which was later
identified as housemate Paul’s pet rock.

As the strains of Massive Attack’s “Teardrop” filtered

through the tinny sound system, Rook popped a fluffy white
kernel into his mouth and chewed speculatively. “If I eat too
much of that, I’m going to need a drink or three.”

“That’s usually the case,” Leon agreed. “Where are your

glasses?”

Rook closed his eyes. “Haven’t the foggiest.”
“Beer, then? I thought I saw a few in the fridge.”
“Do you think they’re mine?”
“Does it matter if they’re not? Claim amnesia and buy a

six-pack afterward.”

Rook laughed. “Okay, beer it is. I just hope I like it.”
“You have a bottle opener for a key ring. I think you’ll be

fine.”

“How do you know I don’t like Bacardi Breezers or

something light and fruity?” Rook protested as Leon went
back to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of Tooheys.

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re straight?” Leon

said as he wandered back into the lounge.

“That is heteronormative stereotyping, that is,” Rook

said reprovingly as he took out his key chain and popped the
caps off the beers.

“Sorry,” Leon said, taking a swig of the bitter liquid.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Yeah, yeah,” Rook said, grinning to take the sting out

of his words before raising his own bottle to his lips. “Oh
God, I needed that.”

“So you do like beer?”
“Yes, but I might not have,” Rook said archly.
“Got any plans for tomorrow?” Leon asked as they

watched Hugh Laurie bicker with Lisa Edelstein over
paperwork.

“Going to court,” Rook said. “Can we not talk about it?”
“Okay. Are you going to need help tomorrow?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” Rook said, not taking his eyes from the

screen.

“Are you sure? Your cast—”
“I’ll be fine, Leon,” Rook said, reaching out and catching

Leon in a sideways hug. “Thank you for the offer though, and
if I need a hand, I’ll give you a call.”

“Promise?”
“Promise.”

HEN

Leon pulled up into his driveway, the sun had set

and his house was cast in deep shadows from the street light
on the corner. As he headed up to the door, a shadow on his
front porch moved.

“Warrick!”
“Hi, Leon.”
“What are you doing here?”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Well, you won’t answer my calls, so….” Warrick

shrugged and let the sentence trail off into the expectant
silence.

“I thought that was a hint in and of itself,” Leon said.
“Yeah, well, I happen to think you’re worth the effort.”
“Warrick, look. I like you, but I’m not here for your

benefit,” Leon said, folding his arms across his chest.

“I know.”
“And I’m not going to be at your beck and call or stop

being friends with someone just because you say so.”

“I know.”
“And if I want to flirt with someone else, then I’ll damn

well do that too.”

“I know,” Warrick said again. “Wait—what? Are you

saying you want a… an open relationship?”

Leon shrugged. “I don’t know. I might. What if I did?”
Warrick’s mouth opened and closed a few times before

he answered. “I would hope that you’d discuss it with me if
that’s what you wanted—assuming that I was involved.”

“Right,” Leon said. “Then why can’t you do the same for

me?”

“Because I don’t want an open relationship,” Warrick

said, stepping in closer. “I just want you.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“I know. I just—I’m scared, Leon,” Warrick said, moving

close enough that Leon could feel the heat from his body.
“I’m scared that if I kiss you, I won’t stop; if someone sees, I
won’t care, and that I could lose my job; or if someone sees

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

and follows you and—I don’t want it to be you lying in a
hospital bed when I come into work.”

“Why is it me that they’re following in this scenario and

not you?” Leon asked, although even as he said it, he knew
how foolish that sounded.

“I’m always with me, and I can take care of myself.”

Warrick said with a shrug. “The moment you leave my sight,
I don’t know where you are, and then I worry. I’m sorry. I
know it’s stupid, but I can’t help it.”

“That’s…,” Leon sighed. “You know, that’s kinda sweet.”
A small smile ghosted across Warrick’s lips. “Forgive me?”
Leon nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Later he

could never say who had moved first, but Warrick’s arms
were wrapped around him, holding him against the firm
chest he only now could admit he had missed. Then Warrick
lifted Leon’s chin and gently pushed their lips together, and
all the loss and hurt melted into the tender warmth of their
kiss.

“You coming in?” Leon asked softly when they finally

broke for air.

Warrick leaned forward until their foreheads were

touching. “If it’s not too inconvenient.”

Leon smiled and went in for another kiss. “Mr. Kwok, it

is not an inconvenience at all.”

Their lovemaking that night was slow and gentle, each

man intent on reconnecting rather than achieving release.
By the time Leon felt Warrick shudder inside him, triggering
his own orgasm, the rosellas were already starting the
morning chorus in the trees outside Leon’s window. Pausing
for only the briefest of cleanups, the lovers crawled back into

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

Leon’s bed, not bothering to draw the blankets over
themselves in the summer heat. Wrapped in each other’s
arms, they slept clear through to the afternoon, roused only
briefly by Warrick’s phone alarm, prompting him to call in
sick.

“Won’t you get into trouble for that?” Leon asked

sleepily.

“Don’t care,” Warrick mumbled, curling back around his

lover’s form. “Not going in.”

When their empty stomachs finally roused them from

slumber, Warrick complained bitterly about the state of
Leon’s fridge, and they settled for ordering pizza, which
arrived just before Krissy, who helped herself to a slice after
grilling them about their reconnection.

“You do not want details,” Leon said, helping himself to

a slice of the meat-lover’s pizza.

“Well, not all the details,” Warrick said, licking his

fingers clean of sauce. “Let’s just say I gave Leon puppy-dog
eyes until he agreed to give me another chance.”

“Puppy-dog eyes? Don’t you mean you just wrapped

your arms around me and wouldn’t let go until I said
‘uncle’?”

“That was after,” Warrick said, looking away with a sly

grin. “And I didn’t make you say ‘uncle’.”

“Okay boys, enough with the sharing,” Krissy said,

helping herself to the last piece of Margherita pizza. “New
topic, and not the fact that you’ve been holding hands since I
got here.”

“How’s the internship going?” Warrick asked. “Leon says

you’re hardly ever around these days.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“I like it,” Krissy said. “The cases are interesting, if

sometimes mired in paperwork. And I don’t get to work on
the juicy one either.”

“Juicy?”
“Rook’s case. It’s odd it’s gone to trial so quickly, but—”
“Speak of the devil,” Leon said, as his phone trilled.
“You should really change that ringtone,” Krissy said.

“It’s so boring.”

“Shut up,” Leon said as he grabbed for his phone,

bringing it up to his ear. “Hey, Rook, how’d it go?”

“It didn’t,” Rook said, and Leon could hear him moving

around on one crutch before sitting down on something soft.
“I just found out they never got a DNA test from the
suspects. Apparently the judge said the CCTV footage was
‘too grainy’ to warrant one, especially since I don’t remember
being assaulted.”

“Seriously? That blows.”
“I know. I recognized one of them from the paper,

though. Does the name Billy Fitzgerald ring any bells?”

“The mayor’s son?”
“The very same. Rising local rugby star interviewed last

week in the Herald,” Rook said gloomily. “His lawyers are
heaping obstacle after obstacle in our way, and I don’t know
how much longer the state will fight on.”

“Huh,” Leon said. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“Not your fault,” Rook said. “I just…. Do you know how

long it took to get into a suit this morning?”

“You could have called for help.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Paul helped,” Rook said. “It’s just—I want things to go

back to normal, you know?”

“Yeah,” Leon said, giving Warrick’s hand a squeeze.
“I just don’t remember what normal is. Look, I’m tired.

I’m going to hit the sack. Thanks for chatting, man. And I’m
sorry if I’m unloading on you.”

“It’s cool,” Leon said. “Fingers crossed for day two,

right?”

“Yeah. Night, Leon.”
“Night, Rook.”
“Well that didn’t sound good,” Krissy said as Leon put

down his phone.

“They never got DNA from the defendants,” Leon said,

snuggling into Warrick’s embrace. “Apparently the judge
ruled the CCTV footage wasn’t enough—too grainy.
Something about Rook not remembering enough to justify
it.”

“Rook doesn’t remember anything,” Warrick objected.
“What, so you like him now?” Leon asked.
“He’s your friend, right?”
“Yes.”
“And I don’t have any reason to be jealous, do I?”
“No.”
“Then I will keep my jealous impulses firmly in check,”

Warrick said, kissing the side of Leon’s neck.

“You two are sickening,” Krissy said, reaching for the

garlic bread. “I can’t believe—wait, CCTV footage was too
grainy?”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“According to Rook,” Leon said.
“That’s ridiculous. He was assaulted outside a Cash

Converters. They have good security cameras there. I’ve seen
their footage on other cases. That stolen jewelry from the
McMansion six months ago turned up pawned in—never
mind, confidentiality and all that. That can’t be the real
reason.”

Leon stared down at his and Warrick’s hands,

interlacing their fingers together. “Rook said one of the
defendants was Billy Fitzgerald.”

“William Fitzgerald, Jr.?” Warrick asked. “The mayor’s

kid?”

“Kid? He’s not that much younger than we are,” Leon

said.

“Doesn’t act it.”
Krissy twisted the foil of the remaining garlic bread,

closing it back up. “I think I just lost my appetite,” she said.
“It explains why everything on that case has moved so
quickly—and why the judge refused to sign a warrant for
Billy’s DNA.”

“You realize you’re accusing a judge of corruption,”

Warrick said.

“Oh, right. Because that’s never happened before.”
Warrick sighed. “And Rook can’t even remember who he

is, let alone what happened to him.”

“You know,” Leon said thoughtfully. “We might be able

to help with that.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

ATURDAY

afternoon found Leon pulling up to Rook’s flat

and rapping on the door. Then he waited for several minutes
and knocked again. “Come on, Rook, I know you’re in there.”

After a few more minutes, he heard the slow sound of a

man on crutches coming toward the door. “Leon?”

“No, it’s Wonder Woman.”
When the door opened slightly and Rook peeked out, he

was scruffy, unshaven, and Leon could see he wasn’t
wearing a shirt.

“Wonder Woman has bigger tits than you do,” Rook

said. “And she wears less clothing. Does everything you wear
have a hood?”

“Not everything. Just most of it,” Leon said. “I like

hoods. They make you look a little scarier at night, and if it’s
cold, you can pull it around your neck a bit.”

“They make you look more scary at night?”
“Hey, I’m a little guy! I’ll take what I can get. You going

to invite me in or what?”

“Sure, just—sure,” Rook said, opening the door further

to allow Leon in—and showing Leon that all he was wearing
was a pair of Aquaman boxers.

“No offense, but you look like shit,” Leon said as he

stepped into the cool darkness of the hallway.

“Yeah,” Rook said, leaning on his crutch as he headed

for the living room. “I was planning on getting drunk, but I’m
out of beer as of last night and didn’t feel up to a trip to the
bottle-o

.”

A non-classy way of very classily not mentioning that you’re buying alcohol—just

bottles which may or may not contain alcohol. Short for “Bottle Shop,” the term came

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Trial isn’t going well?”
Rook shook his head. “The thing that gets me are the

looks Billy and his two friends keep shooting my way. It’s like
they’re mocking me because they did it, and they know they’re
going to get away with it. And the worst thing is I can’t
remember it! And people keep saying that could be a good
thing, but if I knew, I’d still be dealing with trauma, but I
might get some closure. It’s like I’m being cheated out of
something I need, but I can’t remember why I want or need it.”

“Rook—”
“Can we get beer?”
Leon smiled. “Sure, we can get a beer.”
“Thank you.”
“But not here,” Leon said. “We’re going out.”
“What?”
“The Queer Collective is having a Christmas dinner

thing—we scored you a ticket.”

“Thanks, but I’ve accepted the fact that I’m straight,

Leon,” Rook said, sitting down on his red couch. “I know the
Queer Collective is meant to be a queer safe space. You
know, away from the rest of straight society.”

“They opened it up this year,” Leon said, pushing his

fringe back from his eyes. “And we’d all really like you to be
there.”

about from the Australian tendency to think everything reads better with an “o” on the
end. Thus “Wayne-O,” “Jonno,” “Steve-O,” the drink Milo, and the insult “drongo,” just
to name a few. Linguists are still wondering why “Vegemite-o” never took off, or
possibly “Veg-o,” but learned very quickly not to come between an Aussie and his or her
Vegemite.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Oh,” Rook said. “Well, I’m honored, but I’m not really

dressed for the occasion.”

Leon checked his watch. “We’ve got two hours. Plenty of

time.” He stood and cut a dramatic pose. “To the bathroom!”

A faint smile tugged at Rook’s lips. “I take it you’re going

to badger me until I give in and come?”

“Pretty much,” Leon said. “Do I win yet?”
Rook shook his head and slowly pulled himself to his

feet. “I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed that I’m not
dating you.”

“You can commiserate with Warrick later,” Leon said.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you exactly how much grief
you’re missing.”

“Warrick? You two back together?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Well, that’s great. I think. Is that great?”
Leon couldn’t help the self-satisfied smile that stole

across his features. “So far, yeah.”

“Okay, I will keep all snarky comments to myself, then.”
“Very funny, mister,” Leon said. “Now march!”
Given the need to wrap Rook’s leg cast in a garbage bag

to prevent the plaster from getting wet, it took a fair amount
of time to get him presentable—and a baggy pair of light
black slacks to cover up his cast. All in all, it took them the
better part of their two hours to get to the Bar on the Hill

where the dinner was taking place.

Unlike other bars, the Bar on the Hill is very aptly named, being situated on an actual

hill. In contrast, the Owl and the Pussycat does not have an owl or a pussycat on

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

The Bar on the Hill was a fair bit more than just a bar.

Officially known as the Hunter Union, most Novocastrians
still called it “the Bar on the Hill,” although some liked to call
it “the Ar on the Hill,” hearkening back to days when
someone nicked off with the B. The building contained not
only the aforementioned bar but also an auditorium that was
the place for live music on campus. After pulling into the car
park, Leon helped Rook up the stairs to the bar proper,
where long tables with white tablecloths had been placed on
the wooden parquet flooring, overseen by the giant TV screen
that Leon had always thought was really a projector. The
scrum in front of the bar was as dense as always, although
Leon was able to catch Warrick’s eye, and he soon came over
with three pots of beer.

“This place is packed,” Rook said as Leon ushered him

in the front of the room.

“It’s an important event,” Warrick said with a shrug as

he placed the beers down in front of them before leaning in
to give Leon a quick kiss.

“It is?”
“Of course,” Warrick said, sitting down next to Leon. “End

of exams, start of the holidays, a bit of Christmas cheer.”

Rook grunted. “Well, okay, I might be feeling a bit ‘bah

humbug’ about all that—but thank you for the beer.”

Warrick winked. “There’s a tab.”
“Then I thank the Queer Collective. Although I’d prefer it

if everyone stopped staring at me.”

premises, let alone both. Priscilla’s similarly is not owned by, nor features, a Priscilla on
staff—or in drag. And the less said about King Armadillo, the better.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“That’s not likely,” Leon said. “You’re sort of famous in

this club, you know.”

“I am?” Rook asked as a slim, fair-haired man rose and

tapped on his bottle of Smirnoff Ice with a spoon.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Leon murmured as the room

slowly quieted down.

“Who’s he?” Rook hissed.
“Seth Francis. He’s the president of the Queer

Collective.”

“Cute,” Rook said.
“What happened to you being straight?” Leon asked.
“I can be straight and think a guy’s cute,” Rook said,

and Leon would have responded, but Seth was already
clearing his throat to speak.

“Earlier this year, there was an attack on a student in

town,” Seth began. “You all know him, and you know that he
was injured defending the freedom of sexual expression—or
perhaps even the existence of nonheterosexual people. You
of course all know of whom I am speaking. So Travis
Rookford, we thank you.”

Here Seth paused until the applause died down.
“Those of you who have been following the news will

also know that the trial hasn’t seen much justice so far, with
the perpetrators getting a reprieve. Of course, despite this,
we still want to thank you all for coming along. I know we
did originally plan to have the proceeds of the night go
toward covering Rook’s medical costs—”

“What?” Rook whispered.
“It’s a fund-raiser,” Leon whispered back.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“I got that bit,” Rook hissed. “Whose idea was this?”
Leon shrugged. “It was sort of a group decision.”
“—but I have it on good authority that Medicare is

covering those, so instead we will be donating the funds to
The Pinnacle Foundation in Rook’s name. And I’m happy to
announce that we’ve raised just over two thousand dollars,
which, to be fair, probably wouldn’t have gone too far in
hospital,” Seth said, to the chuckles of more than a few
guests.

Rook glanced between Leon and Warrick, his mouth

slack. “You guys did all this for me?”

Warrick smiled. “Consider it a token of thanks for being

awesome.”

Seth looked poised to continue speaking, but a

commotion at the door made everyone turn as a curvaceous
woman barged into the room in a stunning dress of electric
blue.

“Put on the news!” the woman shouted, waving a

matching blue silk clutch as she stormed through the tables.

“What?” Seth asked, momentarily nonplussed.
“The news. Turn on the TV. Now!”
Shrugging, Seth turned and raised a remote from the

lectern, turning on the screen that normally played music
videos and sporting matches. It took mere moments to find
the channel showing the news and a few more to find the
mute button.

“…appears to have been leaked onto the Internet and

shows the mayor of Newcastle’s son and two unidentified
men attacking a fourth man. Due to the graphic nature of

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

the video, we can only show you these stills. We understand
this video footage has been sent to the Attorney General’s
office with a demand that the case be prosecuted as a hate
crime, as well as accusations of corruption in the judicial
system of regional New South Wales. The state government
has pledged a full inquiry. So far, the mayor of Newcastle
has been unavailable for comment.”

As the room erupted into cheering, drowning out the

rest of the news story, Leon glanced over at his friend. “I’m
sorry…. I—”

But Rook was grinning, his wide smile more than

slightly vindictive and very relieved. “I’m not,” he said. “I
could kiss whoever got hold of that footage.”

“Present and available,” Krissy said, sauntering up to

the table, and Leon noticed in passing the streaks in her hair
now matched her dress.

“And how did you get your hands on it exactly?” Leon

asked.

“It’s not my fault the evidence was on a laptop with no

encryption and an open Wi-Fi connection.”

“I thought those hearings were closed?”
“Wi-Fi, Leon,” Krissy said. “It goes through walls.”
“And who exactly might you be?” Rook asked.
“Kristina,” Krissy said. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“You as well! Leon’s told me a lot about you.”
“Well, he hasn’t told me nearly enough about you.”
“Leon, are you hiding all your good-looking female

friends from me?” Rook asked, although his gaze never left
Krissy’s.

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“No, just the straight ones,” Leon said. “Honestly, she’s

been working,” he added hurriedly as Krissy looked as
though she would aim a kick at him.

In the meantime, Seth had banged on the lectern for

silence. “Well, I think that tops any speech I was going to
make,” he said with a grin. “Merry Christmas, ladies and
gentlemen.”

“Merry Christmas!” the crowd thundered back.
“Okay, that’s enough from me. Let’s eat!”
Space was made to squeeze Krissy in at the head table,

and the four friends partied well into the night, following the
crowd to The Gateway Hotel when campus security came by
to close the building.

following morning, Leon rolled out of bed and went in

search of clean underwear, leaving Warrick to sleep in.
Rubbing sleep from his eyes as he stepped into the kitchen,
he was greeted by a familiar figure perched on a chair, cast
sticking out and crutch off to one side.

“Hello,” Leon said. “I see you and Krissy got to know

each other a bit better.”

Rook blushed. “Not that well. We were both drunk and,

well…. Hey, looks like the footage made news just about
everywhere,” he said, holding up his phone. “I’m betting the
Herald wishes it published a Sunday paper now.”

“Well, that’s a start at least,” Leon said, as he headed for

the fridge. “Want some juice?”

Rook raised a mug. “Nah, I found the coffee. I’m good.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“I can’t believe you’re not hung over,” Leon said.
“I don’t get hung over,” Rook said severely. “Just

occasionally depressed—in a nonclinical fashion.”

“Good for you,” Leon said, pouring himself a glass of

orange juice. “Warrick is decidedly under the weather.”

“I think he just had a lot to celebrate,” Rook said,

raising his mug toward Leon.

“So do I, come to think of it,” Leon said. “Oh, we had

something else for you.”

“More?” Rook asked. “How can there be more? Don’t tell

me, you worked out how to achieve world peace?”

“Kill all the humans,” Leon said promptly. “But I’m not

advocating that.”

Rook chuckled. “Okay, what is it?”
Leon walked into the lounge and returned with a Nexus

tablet. “This,” he said.

“I think I have an iPad at home, you know.”
Unlocking the screen, Leon started a video and sat

back. “No, not the tablet. This is you,” he said. “Given your
amnesia, we thought, well, Warrick and I….”

Rook’s eyes were already glued to the small screen,

which was showing a small boy riding a bright blue-and-
yellow tricycle around a small courtyard. “Where did you get
this?”

“Your mum gave us that one,” Leon said. “And that,” he

added as the video faded to an old family photo of Rook’s
parents, a small child that Leon knew at once to be his
friend, and a small, newborn infant. “We also got a fair

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

amount from Facebook. You need to check your privacy
settings, dude.”

“Who’s that?” Rook asked as another photo came up on

screen, this one of a gap-toothed boy with bowl-cut brown
hair. “Wait—isn’t that you, Leon?”

“Not me. That’s your brother, Kent.”
“Kent?”
But now another video was showing two boys on the

beach playing cricket in the sand, the older boy obviously
Rook, probably age fifteen or so, the smaller, wiry boy
smiling happily as he chased after a battered tennis ball.
“Wow, he’s emo,” Rook said. “An emo who smiles. I like that.”

“Good at eyeliner, though,” Leon said. “And that’s him

with carrot sticks at Taronga Zoo, I think.”

“You mean dropping the carrot sticks and running away

from the kangaroo,” Rook said.

“Same thing.”
Then a photo of a photo, of an almost smiling Kent in a

school uniform, his hair brushed out of his eyes and the sun
glinting off a goldish frame as it sat before a carved stone
next to a bouquet of red roses. Rook’s gasp was audible.

“He died when he was fourteen,” Rook said.
“Yeah,” Leon said quietly. “I’m so—”
“He… couldn’t cope,” Rook went on, his eyes welling

with tears. “He—you remind me of him so much. I look at
you, and I see what he could have been if he hadn’t… if
people hadn’t….” He reached out and traced the curve of his
brother’s cheek on the screen, which also caused the video
to pause. “I remember.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“Did you want to see the rest?”
Rook nodded and tapped the screen again. The rest of

the images showed parties and shots of campus, girls, and
face paint at rugby games. Happier, more recent times, Leon
thought. No, not happier. Just more recent.

“Thank you,” Rook said as the video faded to black.
“You’re welcome,” Leon said. “It wasn’t all me, though.”
Rook nodded. “I’ll remember to thank Warrick when I

see him.”

“I should go wake him,” Leon said pensively. “I’m

hungry, and my stomach wants pancakes.”

“I’m sure you can make your own pancakes, Leon,”

Rook said with an indulgent smile.

“Not as good as Warrick’s. Plus he gets annoyed if I

mess up his kitchen.”

“But it’s your kitchen.”
“Not when Warrick’s here, it’s not.”
A melancholy smile passed over Rook’s features. “I wish

Kent could have met you.”

“I wish I could have met him too. He seemed like a great

guy.”

“When you were younger, did you ever feel like…? I

mean, did you ever consider…?”

Leon shook his head. “Not really. I don’t talk to my

parents anymore, but that’s my choice. I always thought
things would get better. And then I met Krissy, and well….”

“Yeah, she’s pretty amazing.”

The Way You Are | Matthew Lang

“And it was nice to know I could be gay and still have

straight friends.”

“What about straight male friends?”
“Hey, you’re the one sitting in my kitchen in his boxers

and leg cast,” Leon said.

“So in your professional opinion,” Rook asked, his voice

taking on an officious tone, “it is possible for a gay man to
have straight friends he’s not lusting after?”

“Not if they’re hot,” Leon said lightly. “But if anyone

questions me, I’ll just tell them you kissed me first.”

They both laughed at that, a free, easy laugh that filled

the room. “To friends,” Rook said, raising his coffee mug.
“Wherever they fall on the Kinsey scale.”

Leon raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

About the Author

ATTHEW

ANG

writes behind a desk, in the park, on the

tram, and sometimes backstage at amateur theater
productions. He has been known to sing and dance in public
and analyze the plots of movies and TV shows, and is a
confessed Masterchef addict. He has dabbled in film,
machinema, event management, and even insurance, but his
first love has always been the written word. He is suspected of
frequenting libraries and hanging around in bookstores, and
his therapists believe he may be plotting some form of
literature.
Matthew can be reached on Twitter: @mattlangwrites and on
Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/MattLangWrites.

Aussie Romance from

REAMSPINNER

RESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
5032 Capital Circle SW
Ste 2, PMB# 279
Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Christine Griffin
alizarin_griffin@yahoo.com
http://christinegriffin.artworkfolio.com/

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 5032 Capital Circle SW
Ste 2, PMB# 279 Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America
January 2013

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62380-272-1

Document Outline

The Way You Are
About the Author
Aussie Romance from Dreamspinner Press
Copyright

Wyszukiwarka

Podobne podstrony:
Just the way you are
25 Bruno Mars Just the way you are SSLLAA
Just the way you are
Bruno Mars Just The Way You Are
Just The Way You Are
Eminem (feat Rihanna) Love The Way You Lie
Remady The Way We Are?at Manu L
Eminem?at Rihanna Love The Way You Lie
THE WAY YOU MAKE ME?EL
Love The Way You Lie Part 2
Eminem (feat Rihanna) Love The Way You Lie
Eminem ft Rihanna Love the Way You Lie
ANTONY AND THE JOHNSONS You Are My Sister CDEP (Secretly Canadian) SC130cd , non exportable to Euro
baden powell all the things you are
ANTONY AND THE JOHNSONS You Are My Sister 12 (Secretly Canadian) SC130lpsc130lp
Elton John Something about the way you look tonight
Bella Andre 9 The Way You Look Tonight (The Sullivans)
The way you look tonight Kern
The way You look tonight

więcej podobnych podstron

Matthew Lang The Way You Are

Document Outline