It’s probably not the bold move it would have been in London (although cabbies were used to all sorts stepping into the back of their cab), but Neil sitting close still brings a smile to Harry’s lips.

He resists putting an arm around Neil, or kissing him there and then, though the thought does cross his mind. He prefers keeping himself composed and discrete when there’s someone watching them through the rear-view mirror.

It’s a silent cab-ride until they reach the High Gate Terrace building. Harry doesn’t allow Neil to pay the fare either and makes sure the fare is paid before Neil can protest.

It’s not until they’re inside Harry’s flat – which still looks pretty much like it did when he first moved in, except for a stocked fridge and liquor cabinet – that Harry speaks. “I know I promised you a drink, but I kinda want to kiss you instead,” he confesses with a lopsided smile on his face. In the privacy of his flat he puts a hand through Neil’s hair, but he doesn’t pull him close yet. “Think you’d be ok with that?”