Rentboy

hostile.
    “Be right with you,” Eddie muttered. When at last he looked up, surprise registered in his
    expression, then annoyance. He looked Fox up and down. “What do you want? Come to steal from me
    again?”
    In a tone that sounded a lot like begging, Fox said, “Eddie, please, don’t be like that. I’ve got to
    talk to you.”
    “Whatever we had is over. You ended it. You made a complete idiot of me. I hope you’re
    happy.” Anger tinged his words, but it was the wounded look on his face that ripped at Fox’s gut. He
    had caused all this pain, and all he wanted was to make it go away.
    “I’m not happy, and I admit I did wrong, but this is more important than either of us. This is life
    and death.”
    Casting his gaze to the ceiling, Eddie sighed. “Save the theatrics.” He took off his lab coat and
    tossed it on the bench. “I’m going home. I’m exhausted. And I have to lock the lab, so you’d better
    leave.”
    “Eddie, please!” Fox followed him to the door. “We need to talk about the pesticide you
    developed. The Lintrane.”
    With his hand on the door handle Eddie stopped short, looking into his eyes. “How do you know
    that name? That’s the commercial name my pesticide will be released under. No one knows it yet,
    except me and Howard.”
    “I heard it from someone else. Can we go somewhere and talk? We could go to your place.”
    For a long moment their eyes remained locked. The desire Fox saw in Eddie’s face was intense.
    Then it was as if he was mentally reminding himself of Fox’s betrayal, because the desire dimmed to
    hurt again. “No. Absolutely not. There’s nothing you have to say to me that I care to listen to.”
    Spreading his hands in desperation, Fox said, “This is not about us, for crying out loud. It’s
    about Uganda and Lintrane and how dangerous it is.”
    “What are you talking about?” Clearly confused, Eddie said, “It’s not dangerous. It was, but I
    fixed it.”
    “Did you keep a copy of the original compound? The lethal one?”
    “Yes, I have to, but it will not be used, because it kills people. Anyway, why am I explaining
    myself to you? How do you know all this? I know I didn’t tell you.”
    Fox shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them still. He wanted so badly to touch Eddie.
    “Can we go somewhere else? It’s horrible in here. The animals are talking to me, asking me to
    release them.”
    “Oh, for God’s sake.” Eddie looked away at last. “You will not release the animals, and I’m
    going nowhere with you. Every time we’re together there’s some sort of drama. We get attacked by
    thugs, followed by black cars. I was nearly killed by a man in camouflage whom you claimed to be
    your father.”
    “He is my father.”
    The mastery of sarcasm Eddie had displayed at the pub was reaching new heights. “How can he
    be, Fox? Your father is dead. He was a war hero, remember?”
    Fox looked at his feet. Scuffed trainers instead of his usual black boots. “He’s not dead. I just
    wish he was. He hates queers. He hates everyone. But he was in Iraq and Afghanistan, and he was
    decorated. He was a career soldier.”
    “I don’t know what to believe and what not to believe,” Eddie said. “You tell so many
    whoppers.”
    Fox pushed the door closed and walked over to a stool but, instead of sitting on it, dropped to
    the tiled floor and sat crossed-legged, looking at the dull, old 1970s linoleum tiles. “This place needs
    a revamp. It’s depressing as hell.” He looked up. “Even just painting the ceiling a nice fresh white
    would help. That ceiling is all stained and yellowed.”
    “Is it. I’ve never noticed. It probably got yellowed before we got the new fume cupboards.
    Anyway, I’m too busy getting on with my work to notice such things.” Eddie joined him on the floor.
    “I have no patience left with you. I’m angry with you, and I want to go home. Now what do you want?
    You’ve got five minutes of my valuable time.”
    “You can be a right fucking prick when you want to, can’t you?” Fox knew that when he went
    home, Eddie would just do more work. “Is there a Pot Noodle at home that’s just screaming your
    name?”
    Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Why do you talk in riddles? Pot Noodles don’t scream. They hiss a
    little sometimes when you add the boiling water.”
    Meeting his gaze, Fox smiled. “You’re so weird.” That’s what I love about you.
    Raising an eyebrow, Eddie tapped his fingertips on his