AS the clock struck eight, the three older siblings, their wives, and progeny had all left, citing early bedtimes and school the following morning. As Zelda, her husband, and their mother cleaned up in the kitchen, Zed brought Mac another beer, sitting beside him on the sofa.

Mac smiled, giving a silent cheer before taking a sip and looking towards the sounds of laughter coming from the kitchen. 'Your family is really very wonderful.'

A bemused look came over Zed’s face as he too faced the kitchen. 'I definitely can't complain. They have their quirks, but all in all, they’re pretty all right.'

'More than that. I can't help but think that, if I had grown up this way, maybe things would be different. Maybe I would be.'

Frowning, Zed turned to his friend, the conversation from before they had entered playing anew in his mind. 'Mac, you are a good man. Please tell me you know that.'

'No, you're a good man. You provide for your family, look out for them, sacrifice for them. This home is still here because of you.'

'You made it happen!'

He laughed, hollowly. 'I did nothing and you know it. I don't deserve this; not this dinner, not your mother's praise, not any of it. For what, giving you a raise? I only gave you that raise for the selfish reason of making sure you didn't share your talents with another company.'

'You gave me that raise so that you could focus more on your personal life. So that you could be a better person!'

'Because I was incapable of doing it myself, you mean.'

'Augustus.'

The name seemed to shock him out of his thoughts and made Mac finally meet Zed's eyes. Zed spoke softly and scooted closer, trying not to draw the others’ attention to their conversation. 'No, you didn't know what you were doing when you gave me those raises. You had no idea how much you were helping. But, the second I told you, you were upset that you hadn't helped more. If that doesn't make you a good person, then I don't know what does.'

'I want to believe you—‘

'Then, believe me—!'

'Mum would say “actions speak louder than words”. What have my actions shown me to be except a spoiled rich boy with no regard for anyone but—'

'Stop! Please—' He closed the gap between them, trying desperately to pour his meaning out through his gaze. 'You. Are. A good. Man. Please, tell me you know that.'

But the eye-contact seemed to prove too much for Mac as he lowered them again, leaving Zed staring at downcast eyelashes. Those perfect, long blonde eyelashes that were far too thick and too luscious as to be real. It was only as he took in the sight of each individual hair that he realised just how close they’d actually become on the sofa.

Zed’s heart began to sound loudly in his ears as he let himself study his boss’s face from this proximity. The sharp, Roman cut of his nose that sat in the exact middle of his face. The way his cheekbones lifted the corners of his eyes into perfect little crinkles. And his lips. God, his lips. How many times had he thought of that kiss in August? How many times had he been forced to shift his focus from them just so he could understand what the man was saying?

Suddenly, Zed felt a light touch on his collarbone, sending sparks throughout his frame. Mac’s hand had moved there, lifting a piece of lint from Zed’s collar.  All thought seemed to stop when, after the lint was gone, Mac didn't remove his hand. Instead, his knuckles sat softly on the fabric covering his chest.

Zed wanted so badly to reach up, to take the hand of the man who was so clearly hurting. The man who he'd wanted to comfort ever since the day he'd lost his mother. But, something was stopping him, the words he'd so wished to forget replaying in his mind; I'm not. Interested, that is. No offence.

But even if he wasn’t interested, that hadn't stopped the casual touches, intimate conversations, the bond that seemed to grow daily. Was it truly just friendship? Could it ever be more? Why couldn’t it ever be more? No offence.

It was as if time itself stood still, neither man breathing more than just enough to keep their hearts beating as the moment remained suspended between “impossible” and “if only”.

Finally, Zed couldn't help himself any longer. As if trying not to spook a deer, he slowly raised his hand to meet Mac's. But the second the other man’s hand came into his line of sight, the houseguest seemed to immediately come to his senses. With a sharp sniff, Mac withdrew his hand, quickly busying himself with his beer. 'Sorry. Just got lost for a minute.'

Zed felt a small crack somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. 'Mac—'

It was then that Zelda displayed the perfect timing she was so famous for, entering the room with a tray full of pudding. 'All right, boys, who's ready for the best part?’

Before Zed could answer, Mac stood from his spot on the sofa, straightening his coat. 'I should probably be off about now, actually. The car will arrive any moment.' Mrs Higgins entered just in time for him to smile at her, politely. 'Thank you for having me and for the meal. All of you.'

'It's the least we could do for you, love. After all you've done for us.' Walking over to Mac, she pulled him in for a tight and meaningful hug. 'Thank you,' she said so quietly that Zed barely caught the words.

Mac hugged back lightly. 'Happy to help, Mrs Higgins.'

Once he was released from the hug, Zelda’s husband offered a handshake and she pressed a kiss to his cheek before Zed finally walked him to the door. 'Can I walk you out?'

‘No need. The car is just there. But thank you for the offer.'

'Thank you for coming tonight. Honestly,' he said, resting his hand on the handle. 'I know that maybe it wasn't the most normal thing, but it meant a lot to everyone. I... It meant a lot to me.'

'It was my pleasure,' Mac said with a smile. 'Honestly.'

Then, with a few more parting words and the promise to see each other at work the next morning, Mac was off.  As Zed watched Mac enter the waiting car from the front window, his mother came up to stand at his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. 'He's a good man, your Mac.'

'He's not “my Mac”, Mam.'

She said nothing in return, simply holding her son closely, knowing all the same.