The day had been pleasant enough. Me and Alasdair hadn't, quite obviously, been allowed in the meeting between Airlia, Ethan, and the owner of the gallery. Instead, we had looked around the paintings hanging there and made up stories to them. Or it was more like Alasdair had made up stories and I had made poor attempts, which he had then embroidered. All just silly happy stories, even for the painting which screamed of heartache.

The meeting had been a success, and they had decided on having her showcase her work there for the beginning of the summer.

We went to a nearby pub to celebrate. Ethan ordered prosecco for the three of us; he stuck to soda as he would be driving back. Then we cheered and drank to Airlia's success.

"Ye should follow yer sister an' apply to that writin' programme for after summer," I told Alasdair when we were five glasses in. Airlia and Ethan were busy with Airlia talking about what paintings to pick for the gallery and Ethan listening to her rambles.

Alasdair looked quite adorable with his cheeks rosy from the alcohol, but my words caused his eyes to widen and cheeks to turn even redder. It made his cuteness complete. Unable to resist touching him, I extended my hand and brushed a few strands of hair away from his face.

"I dunno," he mumbled and looked down his glass. "What if I'm not good enough?"

"Then ye'll just practise an' try again next year," I answered him, keeping my voice gentle and steady and pushing away my desire to kiss him. It was hard, though, with him looking devastatingly cute. But that just proved how bloody demented I had become. He was sitting there feeling insecure and anxious and all I could wonder was how he would taste, if it would be like his scent. Chocolate and coconut. Something was seriously wrong with me for thinking about that during such a time.

"But what if I'm never good enough?" he mumbled next and gave me a quick glance before looking down at his drink again.

"Ye'll never know unless ye try. An' besides," I put a finger under his chin to lift his head up, to look into his eyes as I continued, "ye'll always be good enough no matter what some posh writin' school professors say."

His eyes were glistening as his lips tugged upwards. He looked like perfection and I could have spent all day studying him to memorise every single feature of his face. I let my hand move away from his chin, let it wander up to his cheek to feel more of his warm skin. My mind was most definitely playing tricks on me because I could have sworn he leaned into my touch. To not get any dumb ideas, I moved my hand away from him.

"Ye're just sayin' that," he smiled at me.

"Na. Ye'll always be perfect to me," I answered. My eyes travelled down to his lips and my thoughts were occupied by the idea of kissing him again. I wanted to pull him to me. Press his body to me. Kiss him everywhere, not only on his lips. How would he react? Would he moan? Beg for more? Would he take the lead? Push me down so he was on top of me? Or did he rather want to be under me? I didn't care about which. All I cared about was making him feel good, feel loved and cared for.

Ethan coughed, and I tore my eyes away from Alasdair as heat travelled up my face.

"Should we order some to eat? Then me and Airlia will head back after dinner," he said.

"Ye'll stay with me though? Right, Errol?" Alasdair asked with his puppy eyes.

"Aye," I said, unsure what I was agreeing to, my mind too muddled by my thoughts. "Bathroom," I mumbled next and got out of my seat, feeling even more awkward as I stood and hoped I moved quickly enough for none of them to notice the strain on my pants while thanking everything the pub had proper bathrooms and not just stalls and a urinal.

I was such a pathetic mess. The hell had all of that been? I couldn't think about him like that. Thank fucking god he was completely oblivious, but both Airlia and Ethan likely knew parts of what had been going through my head. They got to think I was a disgusting creep sitting there pining after Alasdair.

And the absolute worst part was that I couldn't stop the thoughts from evading my mind. I splashed water over my face in the bathroom and tried to think of disgusting things. But try as I might, my thoughts circled back to Alasdair, to the thought of having him with me there in the bathroom, off pushing him against the wall and claiming all of him.

It wouldn't stop, and my pants were painfully tight.

As I unzipped them, I hit a new low.

I was a pathetic pervert who didn't even deserve to be in Alasdair's proximity. All I did was defile him in ways he wasn't even aware of.

After I was done being a creep, while I washed my hands, a knock came on the door.

"Errol, ye in there?"

"Just a sec," I answered and then splashed some water on my face to wash away the remnants of the disgusting thoughts occupying my mind.

When I opened the door, Alasdair stared right at me with the tiny wrinkle between his eyes. Since we were alone, I indulged my impulses just a bit and reached out, smoothed the wrinkle out with my finger.

"Ye okay? Ye took quite a while," he said.

"I'm all fine," I answered and in that precise moment, it was true.

"Wanna smoke?" he asked next, and I nodded.

Outside, we lit our cigarettes in silence and I closed my eyes as I let the cold air cool me down some more. I could finally breathe properly again.

"So like, if ye don't wanna stay an' go out with me, we can just head back with Airlia an' Ethan," Alasdair said when he was half-way through the cigarette.

"What makes ye think I don't wanna?" I asked. He wasn't looking at me, and I felt myself sink over that my hasty retreat from the table likely had hurt him.

"Airlia just said ye might not be up for it," he answered, and then looked back at me. His eyes roamed over my face as if looking for signs I wasn't okay.

I gave him a soft smile. "I'll stay with ye."

"Do ye wanna, or are ye just being nice?" His voice was sharp, quite different from his usual self.

I took another drag of my cigarette before answering, "I wanna."

While we ate, I tried to forget about what had transpired. Forget about my storming emotions and thoughts, and what I had done in the bathroom. I laughed and talked. But it was hard to completely ignore as Airlia kept throwing me concerned glances.

I honestly wished she would stop caring. That she would mind her own business for a bit instead of trying to insert herself in mine.

A thought which increased my self-loathing because Airlia was only doing what any good friend would.

After the dinner, she pulled me to the side a bit to ensure I was fine with staying with Alasdair. I told her I was. Told her to stop worrying. From the way her eyes stared back at me, I knew I hadn't convinced her. But she sighed and let it go.

Alasdair had already before found some club he wanted to go to. The club had a special night with live music. Some small band playing heavy rock music, which made it impossible to actually talk to one another without shouting yourself hoarse. Alasdair would nudge me from time to time though, and point towards some lassie. Every time he did, I would barely look in the direction he had pointed before shaking my head.

I was fine where I was. Next to Alasdair, sipping a beer, and listening to music. Though it was a bit too loud, the relentless drumming and screamed lyrics resonated with me.

"I'm goin' to the bathroom," Alasdair yelled after a bit, and left.

I stayed where I was, just nodding to the music. Not thinking. Finally. For the first time in what felt like ages. The music drowned all my thoughts. And the beer helped take the edge off my emotions.

Then Alasdair returned. And not alone.

Three lassies accompanied him. Objectively, I guessed all three of them were pretty. Just your normal average pretty lassies, probably looking for some fun.

"This is Laura, Angelica, and Sophie," he introduced them.

I just nodded at them, but paid them no more attention than that. My eyes travelled back to the stage to watch the band play.

"They are all studying at the university," Alasdair continued to try to draw my attention to the lassies. I just nodded again.

"What do you do?" one of them said. I couldn't remember which one. I couldn't even remember what their names were. Maybe it had been Emma?

"Bartender," I answered her because, though I wanted to ignore them, I couldn't ignore a direct question.

"Really? That's so cool!" she answered me and fluttered her eyes. It looked as if she was about to have a seizure or something.

"You look strong," another one of them said. What had her name been? Diana? "Do you work out a lot?"

"Used to more than now," I answered. Though, maybe I should start working out again. It had been a way for me to cope with all my pent up sexual frustration and considering what had happened that day, I definitely had a lot of that.

"I bet you could lift all three of us in one go," the last one, who I decided to name Clara, said.

I shrugged and turned my eyes to the stage again. But one of them, Emma, placed her hand on my arm, snapping my eyes back to her.

"I bet you can't lift all of us. Want to prove me wrong?" Her hand trailed up my arm. I moved it away from her.

"Na, I'm good," I answered and glared over at Alasdair, but he had engaged the second one of them, Diana, in conversation.

Clara came up on my other side, and just like Emma had touched me as if it was the most natural thing to do, she also placed a hand on my arm.

"Playing mysterious, are you?" she said, likely in a voice which tried to be seductive, but it sounded ridiculous as she had to shout to be heard over the music. "That's okay. I like solving puzzles."

"We like solving them together," Emma chimed in, and moved even closer. I felt her hand on my back, then Clara's hand on my pants.

I backed away. The beer I had been holding slipped out of my hand and the two lassies shrieked as it broke against the floor. I didn't stop to wait for any other reaction from any of them, though. I turned and left. Rushed out of there even when I heard Alasdair shouting my name after me. I didn't stop until I was three streets away from the club. To hide myself a bit, I rounded the corner. There I took forward a cigarette. My hand was shaking as I lit it.

The time me and Alasdair had been in Edinburgh when he had just turned eighteen, I had dodged the lassie's advances over and over. But eventually, I had given in a bit. It had been tiresome pushing her away, and I had also thought that maybe I would like it. I hadn't ever actually done anything at that point with anyone; apart from my awful first kiss with Airlia. So I had thought that maybe it wouldn't be as bad as I imagined. Maybe it would help me get over Alasdair.

I hadn't let her kiss me, though. Not my lips. But I hadn't stopped her as her hands had travelled over my pants, nor when she had guided my hands between her legs.

Alasdair had been too preoccupied to notice, and I hadn't even told Airlia about that part of the night.

I had been soft in that lassie's hand, no matter what she had tried, and I had hated every second of it. Hated myself both for not respecting myself by firmly saying no, and for not respecting the lassie by using her to test my gayness.

While I stood there smoking on some random street in Edinburgh, I could not stop thinking about that memory. And I could not stop hating myself. It was so intense I trembled. I hated myself to the point that tears rolled down my cheeks, and all I wished for was just something else.

Why did this have to be my life? Why had I been born into a world where most considered a fundamental part of me as something wrong and perverted? Something to be cured or exorcised?

"Why did ye run off like that?"

Why did I have to be in love with someone I could never have?

I wiped under my eyes with fingers which had grown stiff from the cold, but knew he had been close enough to see the tears. His jaw tensed.

"What's wrong?" he asked, but I shook my head.

"Nothin'."

His whole face hardened, and for a moment I thought he would scream at me. But he just pulled out a cigarette of his own. Then we stood there in silence.

"I'm sorry," I told him after my fifth cigarette in a row. My heart had stopped hammering and my mind had cleared. "I didn't mean to ruin the evenin'."

"I know. But ye did. If ye didn't wanna come out, ye should have told me when I asked." He flicked his cigarette away and took a deep breath.

"That's not it. I wanted to."

"Then what happened? Ye gotta talk to me, but ye never do. Tell me what's wrong!" He had shouted, but tears welled up in his eyes and the next he said came out as a plea. "I wanna be there for ye."

I dropped my own cigarette to the ground, then pulled him in for a hug.

Alasdair. My fool. How I wished he could be there for me.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "It just became a bit overwhelmin'. A lot of stuff on my mind," I told him, explaining my behaviour without actually explaining it.

He sighed. I wasn't sure if it was in relief or resignation. I found it hard to care about which it was, however, as his arms wrapped around me, as he hugged me back. And I clung to him. Soaked in the comfort he was offering, though I didn't deserve it in the slightest.