As the boys eat breakfast in silence, Neil decides that it's too quiet and too awkward.
"Let's play a game, right, boys? Because I do know how much you love to shoot, shag and marry. Uh well, not me though, I'd never shoot. And I don't think I'd be able to commit to marriage, it's pretty heavy. But anyway, right, let's play, yeah?" he announces.
"Yes please, so long as you give me some good chicks," says Mike, his eyebrows rising.
Rick sighs. "Yes well, I suppose so. Vyvyan?"
Vyvyan groans and throws his spoon down. "If we bloody have to."
"Right then," says Neil. "Rick, shoot, shag or marry: Mike, Vyv and me."
Rick chokes on his cornflakes. "Oh bloody hell, Neil! I suppose you'd make me choose between shaving my hair off and living with Thatcher also! I bloody hate you so much I wouldn't even remotely care if I shot you, and I suppose I could marry Mike for his stuff and then just leave him."
"So you'd shag me?" laughs Vyvyan, crossing one of his legs over the other and leaning back in his chair.
"Yes, well, obviously that's what it's come down to. But it bloody well doesn't mean I'd do it now!" Rick shouts, wagging his finger at the orange-haired boy sitting across from him.
Neil and Mike lose interest in the conversation, now that what was supposed to be a simple answer from Rick has routinely turned into a whole theatrical production.
Vyvyan stands up and leans over the table, putting his face close to Rick's.
"Poof," he whispers, and maybe, possibly, just perhaps, he smiles.
It's only now that Rick realizes that Neil and Mike have moved into the backyard. He looks down at his shoes, and one of his hands shoots up to the back of his neck, hot and sweaty. He swallows hard and Vyvyan retreats back to his seat.
"Whatever, Vyvyan," he says weakly.
Vyvyan's smile is apparent now. "You're not half bad, actually."
"Alright then, I appreciate your opinion on that matter," Rick mumbles as he gets up and goes to his room.
"So Rick, would you really, really, really not shag me unless it was like the end of the world or something?" Vyvyan pesters, following Rick closely across the landing.
"Shut up, Vyvyan. If you really do need to know, I wouldn't mind shagging you, really, but it's not like it's important. It's not like it matters, it's not like you care or anything," says Rick, fighting away tears.
He sits on his bed, Vyvyan standing in the doorway.
"Don't cry, you fag," Vyvyan says rather quietly, walking through the room to Rick.
"I'm not crying!" replies Rick, his voice going high-pitched.
Vyvyan laughs nervously and sits next to Rick on the bed. "It's okay. I like how you're so faggy. I like you."
Rick looks at Vyvyan, surprised but so relieved also. "I like you too," he whispers.
They kiss, and it feels so wrong but so right.
"Bloody unbelievable," says Rick.
"Bloody brilliant, poof."