I didn't know why I was surprised when Errol showed up looking like always. Jeans, shirt, leather jacket. I guessed a part of me had a bit of a stereotypical view of what dress code a gay pub had. Seeing him, I was immensely happy I hadn't tried to dress according to one of those stereotypes.

"Are ye sure about this?" he asked me.

I immediately pushed down the thoughts saying he was asking because he didn't want to show me or somehow had doubts about me. I knew it wasn't the case. Knew he asked because he was worried about me somehow getting hurt.

"I'm sure," I answered, and then ushered him on so he wouldn't hesitate more.

"Ye're not allowed to smoke on yer own," Errol laid out the rules for our visit as we got closer. "An' we're leavin' together. If anyone acts in a way towards ye which makes ye uncomfortable, ye have to tell me. An'..."

"I am an adult, ye know. I can take care of myself."

He stopped walking and turned to face me. I mirrored his actions. A hand of his brushed some of my hair back. Goosebumps erupted on my skin, and I found myself wishing he'd do it again.

"I know. But please just do as I say. For my sake." He took my hand, squeezed it lightly, as if to emphasise his words.

It was getting hard to breathe. Not in a bad way. In a... I didn't even know what way. But I had to force the air into my lungs, and it was absolutely impossible for me to look away from his eyes. They were magnets pulling me in. Or maybe like black holes, which were slowly swallowing me whole.

"Alasdair?"

"Aye." I closed my eyes. Kept them close for a solid second to dislodge whatever his eyes had been doing to me.

"It's fine if ye're changin' yer mind," he pointed out, completely misinterpreting my actions. Not that I knew even myself what the hell was going on with me.

He was my best friend. Nothing more than that.

So why? Why did I want him to always only look at me? Why did it feel so important to be the centre of his universe? None of these feelings made any sense to feel about your friend.

But it had to all be because of how long we had been friends. For the important role he had always played in my life. My protector and the only person I felt I could truly be me with. I didn't even feel as comfortable being me with Airlia as I did with him. With Airlia, though I doubted I did a particularly good job at it, I had always felt a need to protect her, which then meant I couldn't fall apart completely in front of her.

Errol was different that way. Sure, I wanted to make sure he was safe and happy as well. But it was in a different way. It still made it feel possible for me to fall apart around him. Just because he needed to be my strength, it didn't mean I couldn't be his at times. Not that he often allowed that. I could probably count the times he had on one hand.

"I'm not changin' my mind," I told him. I smiled and decided to forget about my feelings and thoughts. Exactly what everything meant didn't matter, since we were together and everything was fine. "So let's keep goin'."

We got to the pub, and again, a part of me had expected it to stand out in some way, but it didn't. It looked like any old pub. The people inside, like any people.

We ordered beer and then had to take seats by the counter as it was busy with no vacant tables. I looked around and, apart from some signs and posters on the walls, there was absolutely nothing that would have told me it was a pub specific for gay people.

"Disappointed?" Errol asked with a smirk.

"It... I'm not gonna lie, it's not what I expected," I answered truthfully.

Errol laughed. "Don't worry, I was expectin' somethin' else when I first got here as well."

Then we fell into easy conversation. I complained about Dereck while Errol said to not listen to a single word coming out of the bigot's mouth. Errol told me about recipes he had tried making and wanted to suggest adding to the restaurant's menu. I encouraged him to do it.

"I gotta go to the bathroom. Will ye be alright?" Errol asked after we had been there for a while.

"Are ye sure ye dare leave me alone?" I teased, but he answered by stepping down from his barstool and moving closer to me. Into my personal space. My nose caught his scent. I had always liked it, but not until then did I realise it reminded me of the scent of a loch.

"Promise ye won't go to smoke while I'm gone?" he said.

I rolled my eyes, but that only earned me a scowl.

"I promise."

He leaned in even closer. His lips right by my ear, so close they almost touched me as he whispered, "An' if someone makes ye uncomfortable order a kelpie shot an' the bartender will help ye."

I could barely breathe, and his words were a jumbled mess in my head.

He pulled away. Ruffled my hair a bit before he left.

I was in a daze. The loch-scent lingered. The close proximity he had been in had got my heart racing. My face felt flushed, and I doubted it was all just because of alcohol.

I wasn't left to over-analyse what it all meant, though, which I was very happy about. If I had been, my brain would likely have come up with all different weird things.

A man positioned himself next to me, leaning an arm on the counter so his body was turned to me. He was older. Not really old, but definitely older than me. My guess would have been late thirties.

"Ye here alone, laddie?" he asked. A waft of alcohol came out with his words.

"No. My friend is in the bathroom," I answered and looked away from him, focused on my beer.

"Friend? So just friend?"

His words stabbed my chest, though I really couldn't understand why they did. Probably because he gave me the creeps.

"Aye, just friend," I echoed his words. The stabbing pain increased.

"Can I buy ye a drink then? A bonnie laddie like ye shouldn't pay for his drinks."

My mouth went dry as I looked back at him. He was hitting on me? Why on earth would he be hitting on me of all people?

He reached out. Stroke my cheek.

Errol had done just that so many times, and every time he did, I felt cared for, protected, loved.

When this man did it, I wanted to run away. But I was rooted to my spot by my blood, which ran ice cold.

"What ye say, laddie?" he went on.

"No... no, thank ye. I'm not interested," I managed to get out, though my mouth felt drier than a desert and my tongue as heavy as a whale's.

"An' why not? Any way I can entice ye further?" He moved closer. Brushed his fingers along my arm.

"I'm not..." I swallowed hard. "I'm not gay."

The man took half a step back, tilted his head. "Ye sure? Though some straight folk come here now an' then, I'm usually never wrong about these things."

"I'm sure."

"Have ye ever tested that theory? Could be worth it. I wouldn't mind being the one ye test it with."

I was on my way to refute his advances again when I felt the all too familiar and comfortable aura engulf me. Errol's arm went around me. Held me steady to him.

Air rushed into my lungs again, and my hand went to hold the one of his which wasn't around me. Our fingers intertwined, and everything felt safe again. My eyes went to meet his, and he stared right back at me.

"Ye okay?" he asked.

"Aye."

"Good." He leaned in slightly, and my eyes briefly flickered to his lips. But then he straightened himself and let go of me to take his seat again. The man had disappeared.

Errol didn't say anything. But just stared ahead while drinking from his glass.

Tentatively, I put a hand on his knee. "Are ye okay?"

His eyes went down, and I realised what I had done, or rather how my hand resting on his knee could easily be seen as more than a friendly gesture. My face heated as I withdrew my hand. Instead, I took hold of my glass with both hands.

"I'm fine," he answered. I glanced over at him again. He really didn't look fine. I couldn't exactly put my finger on it. Maybe he was somewhat stiffer? Or there was a bit of an angry glint in his eyes? Maybe it was how he both looked paler and redder than normal?

"Ye're not," I stated.

He sighed, a heavy sigh. I got a distinct feeling it was a sigh of both relief and resignation. "I just don't want anythin' bad to ever happen to ye."

"But I'm fine. Nothin' happened."

"For now," he mumbled.

He lifted his glass to drink, only to realise it was empty. It landed back on the table hard enough to thump.

He was clearly upset, and I wanted to help him out of it, wanted to cheer him up. But I had never been good at that, never known what to say or do. My mind scrambled to find just something to say to ease his tension.

And then a memory came to mind.

I had no idea why it did, but I went with it. One of the absolutely most painful events of my life. A memory I usually always shoved down a stair as soon as it entered my mind.

"When I found Mum with her hands burnin', an' the whole while I put out the fire an' called the ambulance. All the time until Airlia an' Grandpa showed up. My mind was empty except for over an' over wishin' ye'd show up. I even felt disappointed when Airlia an' Grandpa arrived at the hospital cos I wished it had been ye."

It had been an awful day. Mum's worst and most stupid attempt to get Dad back. To this day, I didn't quite understand what she had thought the outcome would be. Finding her burning and not doing anything to stop the fire herself... It had fucked me up for a long time. Maybe it still did in ways I didn't even know. I hadn't ever really properly processed it, as I spent so much time not thinking about it. So much of my memory of it was such a mess as well.

Except my desperate hope for Errol to come. Already at nine, he had been the safest place I knew.

Errol reached his hand out, and I didn't hesitate to take hold of it.

"Let's get out of here," he suggested. "I'm not feelin' much up for drinkin' more."

"I don't wanna go home, though," I pointed out.

He smiled. His gentle smile. While his eyes burned with something. Something which made me want to step closer to him.

My breath hitched, and I wasn't sure he'd ever looked quite as handsome as he did in that moment.

"We can have a cup of tea at my place."

I nodded.

We left. Still holding hands. And... There was tension between us. A tension I didn't recognise at all. It wasn't heavy or made me uncomfortable. Though it caused my heart to beat harder. Caused me to be nervous. As if something life altering was brewing. I wanted the tension gone, but it also filled me with anticipation.

Maybe I should have been scared because of it. I wasn't, however. Errol was there with me, my courage. And as long as he kept holding my hand, nothing bad could happen.

"Bloody faggots," a man said and shoved my shoulder as he walked past.

Errol let go of my hand, to instead put his arm around me to steady me.

"We should hurry," Errol mumbled.

We didn't have time to hurry.

The man who had shoved me had stopped behind us. Three others stood before us, blocking our path forward.

I shuffled closer to Errol, while his hand on my side pressed harder against me.

"Can ye step aside?" Errol asked in a voice I bet many would perceive as calm. But I knew him better than that and could tell anger was simmering on the verge of exploding.

"What will a sissy like ye do if we won't?" one of the men asked.

"Some pansy dancing?" another laughed.

"Bet he'll offer to suck our cocks."

"Not gonna happen even if he paid me."

Errol leaned closer to me. "Run. Don't stick around."

"What ye telling yer lover, assfucker?"

Errol moved from my side. Threw the first punch. First then, did my brain understand what he had meant. Run and leave him to fight on his own.

Wasn't gonna happen. It maybe would have been smarter. Errol was and always had been physically strong, and he had practise with fights from times when he had defended me and Airlia. I, on the other hand, had never really been strong. Nor brave enough to ever fight.

But I would never leave Errol to fight on his own.

Besides, even if I would have wanted to, I didn't get a chance.

The one behind us jumped me. He got a stranglehold on me. I reacted by stomping on his foot, which got him to let go. Then I turned and hit someone for the first time ever.

My hand ached. It had felt like hitting a brick wall, and I was certain I had hurt myself as much as I had hurt him.

But then he countered, and my mind stopped thinking at all.

He hit me square across my jaw. I stumbled back and just had time to put my arms up to protect myself before his next hit.

I tried to punch back, but I really didn't know how to, so protecting myself was all I could do until Errol placed a well-aimed fist, which caused the man to tumble to the ground.

Turning around, I saw Errol had dealt with the other three on his own. He really was like Superman. My hero and protector.

"We gotta run," Errol said. He took hold of my hand, and together we ran.