Give Me Shelter

Authors note

Kia ora gang

I need to preface this story with a couple of things.

First, I usually write stories that are pretty solidly grounded in reality. This one isn't. So don't feel baited and switched with the genre, it's gay male because... that's what I write. But it's fantasy straight up.

Second... basically all of my protags have, or deal with some kind of mental illness- that's just the state of the world around me. (Or maybe I read too much of my sister's Jaqueline Wilson growing up. Who's to say?) But this in particular is going to be a real rough read for anyone who's struggling with an eating disorder. I don't take something on if I don't know anything about it (...don't read too much into that)... And in this particular case I know this kind of story can reawaken things you're trying to move on from.

So TW for ED. (Not that kind of ED...)

Ka kite ano and kia kaha y'all

Dr H

Meeting Mr Darcy

I paused outside the pub as I felt my chest tighten. Aw, man. I really thought I'd be ok today. I hadn't gone out for weeks... months maybe... I was almost starting to feel that tiny little itch of needing human company again.

Almost.

Actually- I might have missed the sweet spot, because approaching a bar filled with people and knowing I had to... talk and be charming..... god I could feel the pit stains forming.

Deep breath, Gabe.

I pushed the door open and glanced around as I headed for the bar. Fuck. No sign of my friends. Dammit. I'd so, so intentionally been late as well, so I wouldn't have to find a spot and entertain myself. I forced myself to put on an easy smile and leant over the counter, staring at the honestly appalling selection of supermarket wine.

"Can I get you anything?" The bartender smiled kindly at me as I scanned the shelves.

"Do people tell you all the time you look exactly like Florence Pugh?" I could FEEL my cheeks burn as I said it. I laughed, trying to cover my embarrassment. "That's a compliment I promise! I'm not hitting on you!" I cringed internally but to my relief she giggled.

"Thanks, hun! And it's ok I uh... can tell you're not..." Her eyes flicked over me and she gave me a small shrug. I ran my fingers through my short hair uncomfortably.

"Gin and tonic, please." I smiled. Fuck. Was I passing for normal? I was probably fine. No matter how much my skin was crawling I was usually ok at pretending not to be a complete fucking loser. She grinned and winked as she made it for me, pouring a VERY generous serve. Ok, I was fine. I smiled, and took the drink. I made my way outside and lit up a cigarette absentmindedly and glared at my phone. I WAS late. Where was everyone? I tapped my foot and went to check I had the right day when my phone started to ring. Sylvie.

"I'm calling in a favour." She said the second I picked up.

"Oh god. Ok. What is it?" I groaned. "Bleach would probably get any bloodstains out, yeah?"

"Ok. Not that bad." Sylvie laughed. "Well... actually.... it might be worse. Uhhhh.... I'm so sorry hun; it's just that he's absolutely wonderful and I knew you'd never agree to it."

"Agree to what?" My heart rate spiked.

"In like a minute you're gonna see a very tall handsome man with long blonde hair approach you...."

"You have to be kidding me." My palms started to sweat as I saw probably exactly who she was talking about through the glass doors, leaning on the bar.

"His name is Darcy and... I'm sorry Gabe but it's for your own good... this is a total set up. It's a blind date."

"You filthy fucking whore!" I whined as I watched this fucking Darcy guy chatting to the bartender. "I'm leaving." I hissed into the phone.

"Don't you DARE." Sylvie snapped. "You owe me one. More than one! You owe me, Gabe."

"This isn't fair!"

"Give him a chance."

"You KNOW I have anxiety!"

"I know Darce is the sweetest fucking guy in the whole world and he's lonely and you are too."

"I'm not lonely! I have plenty of sex!"

"Those two things aren't equivalent!" Sylvie sighed. "Gabe. Please. One drink."

"I hate you." I muttered as Darcy spotted me through the glass doors. He looked ghostly pale and gave me the barest hint of a smile as he caught my eye. Actually he looked almost as sick as I felt. "Why?" I mumbled.

"Just... I have a good feeling." Slyvie said. Ugh. A 'good feeling'. Throw me under the bus and into the arms of a total stranger because of your 'good feeling', thanks babe. Although. Sylvie's spidey senses were usually worth heeding.

"Darcy?" I checked.

"Yes!" I could hear her beaming through the phone.

"God, I hate you." I sighed.

"Love you. Have fun. You'll like him; he's weird." Sylvie hung up before I could curse at her some more. I took a deep breath and slowly looked over to the door.

Which... Darcy was having a hard time with... As in... he'd stopped and didn't seem to want to continue. I glanced at him curiously, but there was no way I was making the first move here. Not when I was being bullied into probably my worst nightmare. I lit another cigarette. Maybe he'd be turned off by smoking. I would be. I only smoke when I need to focus on something other than the thoughts in my own brain. Which is.... Ok. Always. It's the most passive way to slowly harm yourself. People side eye you for smoking, but only half as much as they do for less subtle means of self mutilation.

Darcy made it eventually, assisted by Florence Pugh, who waved at me as she pointed me out to Darcy.

"Told you your boyfriend was out here!" She cheerily told Darcy. "Head on through, I'll grab your wine."

"He's not..." I mumbled and cut myself off. No one asked for my life story. "Hey." I met Darcy's eyes and smiled. Something compelled me to awkwardly stand up and introduce myself properly, even though I should have been quite happy shrinking into myself and glowering at him.

He was significantly taller than me, which I was dubious about. I don't trust guys that tall. He had quite the mane of blonde unruly curls pouring over his shoulders, and he was trying to blow it off his face awkwardly as he shook my hand. He was freezing cold and I felt a fraction embarrassed about my own sweaty state- but I didn't care about this or him, did I? I'd do one drink for Sylvie and vow to never speak to her again... again.

"Gabriel." He muttered quietly. "Suits you." He was almost talking to himself. "I always imagined the Archangel Gabriel exactly like you. Svelte and graceful. Not in dungarees though. Actually I suppose a real angel would be mostly eyes wouldn't it? Gabriel was different though..." His eyes widened and he cut himself off. "Sorry. Hi. I'm Darcy, Sylvie's friend... I..." He bit his lip and sat down heavily. "That's better, hi." He smiled. "Sorry I'm so cold, freezing walk here." He glanced at my cigarette. "You smoke?" I widened my eyes and quickly stubbed it out. Two seconds ago I wouldn't have cared. But... Sylvie was right. He was ... weird. I could actually feel a real smile threatening to come out. My heart thumped a little. I mean Christ, he WAS attractive. Hulky and blonde and a really cute accent I couldn't quite place. Australian? A leftover Hemsworth brother maybe? And almost the second he'd opened his mouth and started spouting nonsense I felt... kinda comfortable.

"I..." I sat down. We were eye to eye. I felt my neck loosen. "Occasionally." I winced. "Not a great habit."

"No, it's terrible for you!" Darcy glanced at my pouch. "Can I have one?"

"Sure. They're terrible for you though." My lips twitched.

"I didn't know people still smoked." Darcy rolled a cigarette with almost alarming alacrity. "Used to give me the worst damn asthma." He murmured. "Of course, I had no idea that was the cigarettes."

"You have asthma?" I glanced at him. "Maybe you shouldn't...."

"Oh my lungs..." Darcy trailed off and glanced at me. He pursed his lips. "I don't get that anymore." He cleared his throat. "YOU should be careful though. It can develop you know."

"Thanks?" I laughed awkwardly as I watched him puff away. "Sage advice, I guess?" His wine arrived, distracting us, and I relit my cigarette. It really should quit. It dulls your palette. I suppose there must be a part of me that cares about that. I glanced at his glass and he saw me looking.

"Oh yeah, Slyvie said you were into wine." He offered me the glass. "This any good?" I sniffed it dubiously.

"Depends on your definition of good." I said slowly. "It's not awful."

"Sylvie said you can tell what a wine is just by tasting it." Darcy grinned.

"Sylvie clearly prepped you more than me for this." I pursed my lips. "Where did you... like... meet?"

"Oh, woodworking." Darcy shrugged. "We take a night class together."

"Sylvie? Woodwork?"

"Well... she shows up." Darcy laughed. "She wanted to meet guys."

"Ohhhhhh." I groaned. "Any luck? For the smartest person on earth she tends to have real bad luck with men."

"Yeah she mentioned that." Darcy slowly ran his finger around the base of his glass. "We have that in common." He said quietly. Oh brother. I could practically hear the romantic plea in his voice. "I'm actually also trying to meet people." Darcy glanced up with a tiny smile. "Unfortunately... it turns out most guys there weren't..." He glanced at me and I saw his gaze linger on the earring dangling down from my ear.

"Sodomites?" I suggested. Darcy's head snapped up. I frowned at him. "Gay." I clarified.

"Uh. Yeah." He swallowed. "God, sorry. Been a while since anyone threw the word sodomite at me."

"Oh, it was just fag at my school." I smiled at him. "You must have been posher than I was."

"Doubt it." He grinned. "I grew up out in Te Horo. Not very posh."

"No." I agreed. "But very homophobic." I suggested.

"I'm barely out." He laughed. "It was..." Something passed over his face and I felt my chest warm up with sympathy.

"Yeah, let's not dwell on ancient history." I clinked my glass against his. "So- you're a carpenter?"

"Oh, no." His eyes lit up. "I just do night classes."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"So many!" Darcy grinned. "Spanish and Te Reo and sound engineering and mechanics..."

"Woah!" I stared at him. "What's your... job? Career?"

"Hmm." Darcy ran his fingers through his hair. "I used to work on ships." He said slowly. "I can't really do that anymore though...." He bit his lip as he met my eyes. "I work in a petrol station. That late night to early morning shift goes by surprisingly fast." He cleared his throat. "I wouldn't call it a career, though."

"Well. I can relate to being stuck in a dead end job you mostly hate." I shrugged.

"Actually I really like it." Darcy smiled. "The only drawback is the polyester polo shirt but you can't win 'em all."

"Yeah I have to wear a waistcoat for work." I grinned at him. "Feel like such a dick."

"Oh, I bet you look dashing in a waistcoat." Darcy sighed. "Believe it or not; the polo shirt doesn't have the same effect."

"Ah... I dunno." My eyes twinkled as I glanced at his chest. Most people don't look good in a polo shirt at all, especially not polyester... but I had a feeling Darcy might be an exception to that. Darcy blushed as he saw me staring and I reigned my thoughts in. "Hmmm. So... what's the grand plan then?"

"Huh?"

"You saving for study? Or do you have like, a hobby? Or what are you gonna do with your life?" I winced as I realised I sounded like my Mum. "I mean, assuming you don't want to work in a gas station forever..."

"No, I do." He smiled thinly. "The hours suit me. I have plenty of time for hobbies."

"Oh." I said dumbly. I could see his face falling and his mouth opening.

"I guess I think ambition is sort of worthless." He said slowly. "If I'm happy then why do I need to prove anything?"

"Oh, I didn't mean that." I swallowed. "Not like that."

"You did." He called me out. Ok.

"Well I did. But you have a good point." I sipped on my wine. "I guess for most people the ambition makes them happy right?"

"Does it?" He smiled. "What's making you happy then? Your ambition?"

"Oh." I felt myself tense up. "I guess I'm looking to get my Master of Wine qualification."

"And then you'll be happy?"

"Then I'll be qualified." I sighed. "Alright. Fair point. Maybe I should take a night class."

"You should." He sparkled. "You meet the weirdest people there. Sylvie is wonderful."

"One in a million." I agreed flatly. "Although I could do without the last second blind dates."

"Last second?" Darcy's face fell.

"Yeah." I grunted. Darcy scanned me over slowly and I felt that awkward tension getting worse as he took me in.

"What a bitch!" He burst out laughing after a beat. I smiled weakly. "Oh my god she told me she's been planning this for weeks!"

"Ahhhh." I rolled my eyes. "Well she called me all of ten minutes ago."

"I'm sorry!" Darcy cringed. "Should we rain check?" For a second I considered it. Oh my god, that would be bliss. I could go home. I could sleep. I could cut off Sylvie and never see anyone again. Or...

"No, you're good. This is ok." I smiled at him. "I hate surprises generally, but you're a pretty decent surprise."

"Thanks." He smiled. "I'm glad. I like you! So far. I mean... I don't know you... but you're..."

"Wanna see the wine trick?" I distracted him from his stuttering.

"Oh! Ok, here." He passed his untouched glass. I swirled it thoughtfully and inhaled it again. I smiled at him. "La Belle Angele Syrah." I said confidently as I finished swirling the wine around my mouth. I couldn't do that in a proper blind tasting: but I'd already looked at the wine list. I knew it was a Syrah in the same way you'd probably know, when presented with a red meat of unknown origin if it was beef or lamb because they taste different. Or cos and radicchio if you're vegetarian like me. This place only had two Syrahs by the glass and the one I was drinking sure as shit wasn't Australian. It's not a magic trick. It's just a method of elimination.

"Oh you heard me order!" Darcy laughed as he took back the wine. "You cheat."

"I did not!" I folded my arms. "I'll prove it to you! Get two more of whatever you want." I fished in my bag for some cash- I'm paid mostly in tips and alcohol so I always have cash floating around. He refused the $50 and stood up.

"Two glasses of anything?" He met my eye. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"No I'm trying to defend my reputation!" I laughed. "I'll drink them, my stomach is made of steel." I boasted. Darcy looked at me dubiously and I grinned at him. For a guy who's not exactly blessed in the height or muscle mass department, years of not so wholesome self medication means I hold my booze notoriously well. Darcy briefly looked me over and I could practically see his thoughts. "You'll see." I laughed. "Go on, I would get them myself but the whole point is that I don't know what you're buying." I offered him the money again and Darcy gently pushed my hand away, shaking his head as he headed back inside. I frowned as I watched him go. I was showing off. That was unlike me. I checked my heart rate- which was fine, and awkwardly sniffed my armpits as subtly as I could. Hmm. Fine too. I almost went to check my breath when I rolled my eyes and stopped myself. Ok, feeling anything other than a sweaty nervous ball of tension around anyone was definitely new, but it didn't mean we were going home together. Especially when Darcy clearly had his own- eh, maybe not crippling anxiety- but he was nervous. Or put off by me talking shit. Or by my pretty obvious substance abuse... Ahhhhhh there we go. Spiralling. Good.

Thankfully he distracted me from talking myself into a void by reappearing with the bartender who was helping him with FOUR glasses of wine.

"Darce says this is your party trick." She grinned. "I'm very impressed you've convinced him that buying you drinks is a party trick." She winked at me.

"That's not..." I sighed as she set the drinks down. "I did offer." I glanced at Darcy. He smiled at me.

"This is a double blind." He gestured to the wines.

"So... how do you know if I'm right?" I looked at the four glasses of red liquid in front of me.

"This is glass 1, 2, 3, and 4." Dora gestured. "I've written down what they are behind the bar and Darce is gonna get your answers then check with me."

"Thanks, Dors!" Darcy waved at her as she swung back inside. I smiled.

"How do you know her?" I nodded my head.

"Oh, I don't!" Darcy said. "I was having trouble getting in and she helped me, she's really kind isn't she?"

"She... seems nice?" I raised my eyebrows. "You seem to make friends easy." Darcy rested his head on his hands and looked at me thoughtfully.

"Women don't scare me." He said eventually. "I think that's it."

"Do men?" I sniffed the first wine.

"Yes." He said flatly. I caught something in his tone. Just something. I looked up at him and he was avoiding my eye.

"Yeah, fair." I said. "Actually to be totally honest with you, tall men usually scare me." I swirled the second wine and inhaled, mentally comparing the two. "It's easier with you sitting down." I smiled at him. "Anything I can do to make you feel more at ease?" I asked as I moved on to the third glass. Darcy was sipping on his Syrah and he held the glass up.

"This helps." He smiled. "It's ok. I'm just a little shy, promise. And I'll stay seated."

"Hhhmmmm." I leant back, having completed my assessment of the aromas. "I think number 1 and number 4 are both Pinot noirs, and number 2 is a Cab sav, and number 3.... Number 3 is really lovely..." I stared at the glass. "No idea what it is though." I blinked at him. "You wanna try?"

"Ok." He sniffed the first glass of wine dubiously. "Um. Definitely wine." He smiled at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Anything?"

"Berries?" He asked.

"What kind?"

"Strawberries?" He bit his lip.

"Yeah I get that too." I grinned. "See, it's not hard."

"Says you." Darcy reached for the glass and gulped some down. "Sylvie said you have a degree..."

"Diploma." I corrected him. "And I actually don't have it yet, I haven't passed Sparkling or Fortified."

"Pardon?" Darcy grinned at me.

"Sorry." I felt my cheeks heat up. "I'm going on. Carmenere."

"Hmm?"

"Chilean. Weird. That's definitely not on the menu." I gestured to the third glass. "Pretty sure. 1 is the Ted Pinot Noir. 4 is that cheap French one they had. 3 is the South African Cab Sav."

"Woah."

"I might be wrong." I shrugged.

"You aren't." Darcy giggled. His glass was slowly emptying and he seemed to be one of those very white guys whose face turns ruddy after barely looking at alcohol because he was starting to glow. "I should check though- Dora said these extra two were on the house if you got it right." He grinned. "And frankly on my hourly rate that's an absolute blessing."

"Dude, I tried to pay." I reached over the table to playfully shove him. He let me, and leaned in a little.

"That's not how it works." He caught my hand and I felt my cheeks warm as I looked at him and his fingers curled around mine.

"How so?" I frowned at him, testing the waters. Tall men. They're all the same. They always think their height means some stupid misogynistic bullshit about paying on a first date... which usually leads to some very stupid misogynistic bullshit about how they expect me to behave and who's doing exactly what in bed.

"You were tricked into a blind date and that sucks." Darcy said. "I imagine you make twice as much as I do, so you're more than welcome to take me out for a real date later."

"Oh. Fair enough." I swallowed. "Yeah, I mean... we could do this again... like, on me..."

"Ask me properly. Later." He smiled.

"Ok, I will." I wasn't sure I meant that. But then again... I mean... he was like, really hot so...

"I'm..." Darcy suddenly blushed deeply. "Yeah so I'm um... going to go tell Dora that you aced it." He slid off his stool. Maybe unintentionally, but maybe on purpose, I noticed he was bending his knees a little and hunching over as he stood up, making the gap between us in height almost imperceptible. "You better be right."