“Stalker, ten o’clock,” said Alexander, primly. “Just like old times, innit.” Then, he said, head tilted to one side like a particularly tall, gay cockatoo, “or not really.”
“Where?” demanded Hazel, craning her neck. “Where the fuck?”
“There.”
Alexander pointed. They could just make out Nathan, carving a path through the crowd; he spotted them and his face broke into a grin, creases at the eyes, bright as sunshine, the whole fucking shebang. Stuart let out a long, low whistle. “Jaysus Christ,” he said, leaning back in his chair, as much a prowl as one could do while sitting, “can you believe I used up my fucking shag pass with him when he looked like a twink, and now he goes and looks like that.”
Source: stockings on the fireplace, or something, by icarxs – Queer as Folk (UK) [Archive of Our Own]
A wonderful bit of future fic, I love everyone’s dynamics here, they feel just perfect.