In hindsight, going over to talk to him wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had. Too bad I didn’t realise it until his fist was forcefully introduced to my face.

‘How fucking dare you.’ He glared at me so fiercely that if looks could kill I wouldn’t even exist. ‘Trying to chat me up again after all these months? When after last time you couldn’t even be arsed to answer my texts.’

I rubbed my jaw. He didn’t hit hard—too limp-wristed for that—but I’d still felt it.

‘Yeah, about that—’

‘I don’t want any excuses.’ He crossed his arms over his chest, on the defensive now. ‘I’m not available for your pleasure every few months when you don’t have anyone else to fuck.’

‘That’s not—’

‘I don’t want to hear it!’ He made to turn away and I grabbed his arm.

‘It wasn’t like that, Nik. I was busy.’

He jerked his arm out of my grip and took two steps back.

‘So busy you can’t even send a fucking text? I mean, casual sex is great and all, but you’re not some fucking stranger I’m never going to see again. The least you could do is answer a few text messages.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ I admitted in a low voice, glancing around nervously. We were in a crowded bar, and though there were people everywhere, no one seemed to be listening in. And there was no one I knew as far as I could see.

‘Shouldn’t you be on Easter holiday with the rest of your friends?’ He eyed me up and down, almost suspiciously. ‘Ben said Andreas and the rest of them left for Oppdal today.’

‘I know. I decided to stay at home for the holiday.’ I stayed home every day, but no one knew that. ‘I’m sorry I never answered. I just—I had a hard time.’

His lips tightened.

‘Tell me the truth then. You want me to stand here and chat with you, you tell me the fucking truth. What happened last year? Why didn’t you answer? Why were you in the hospital?’

Something prickled at the back of my neck and I reached back to scratch at it.

‘Can we go outside?’ This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have where other people could listen in.

He seemed like he wanted to refuse for a minute—but then he nodded and motioned for me to walk ahead.

I hurried down the stairs, got my jacket from the lads making sure people paid, then went out in the chilly winter air.

Nik came out a minute later, bundled up in his own jacket.

‘So, spill.’

I walked a little further up the pavement, closer to the shuttered entrance to the shopping centre. I didn’t want anyone to come out and interrupt us, to hear what exactly had happened back then.

‘What’s with all the secrecy?’ He didn’t sound all that impressed with me, but he followed.

‘Can’t you just accept I had a hard time and leave it at that?’ I didn’t want to get into it. The bad decisions, the failure, all the shit.

‘No.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘It’s been eight months. With no word. And now all of a sudden you want to get back in my pants? Hate to break it to you, Glenn, but I’m not that easy.’

Well, fuck it all.

‘I tried to kill myself.’

That threw him.

‘What?’ He blinked, the frown smoothing out to be replaced by surprise.

‘I wanted to die. I swallowed pills. Woke up in the hospital to find out I hadn’t succeeded. Life was shit.’

He blinked.

‘Is life still shit?’

‘Pretty much.’ I shrugged. ‘But I’ve learnt how to deal with it better.’ As in I didn’t go out just for the sole purpose of getting pissed and sleeping with every single person interested in me. I didn’t swallow pills anymore, as that hadn’t worked the three times I’d tried it in my life.

‘Shit, Glenn.’ He turned his face down, scuffling his feet uncomfortably. ‘I didn’t know that.’

‘No one knows that.’

‘You haven’t told anyone?’ He stared up at me again now, eyes wide. ‘Not Andreas? Or Peter?’

I shook my head. My friends knew absolutely nothing. They thought I was in the army, having a great time like they were. I’d lied to them—hence why I never spoke to them anymore—ever since last summer.

He crossed his arms again, but this time it was more to keep his warmth than a defensive stance.

‘Way to make me feel bad. I kept hassling you, and you—no, sorry. It’s not about me. I just—shit.’

‘I don’t want anyone to know.’

‘Then why tell me?’

I shrugged.

‘You deserved an explanation, I guess.’

‘For the past eight months I’ve just been thinking you’re the biggest dick alive.’ He blew out a breath.

‘Many would still argue that.’ I knew I wasn’t easy to be around. I knew that back at school, I hadn’t been kind to Alex—or anyone else really. And I regretted it—my treatment of Alex specifically—but there was nothing I could do about it.

Except turn over a new leaf now, but no one knew about that.

He glanced up at me, a shy gesture I knew was nothing like him—because as far as I knew, Nik didn’t have a shy bone in his slim, flexible body.

‘So, why are you talking to me now?’

‘Because this is the first time I’ve seen you since last year.’

He peered at me closely, probably to see if I was being truthful or not.

‘I’m sorry I hit you.’

‘I deserved it.’ I felt my jaw again now he mentioned it.

He huddled in his jacket.

‘Not really. Not after what you just told me. But if you’d just blown me off because you couldn’t be arsed, yeah, then you’d deserve it. But as you didn’t, you don’t, so…’ Now he shrugged.

‘You want to come back to mine?’ I asked before I could censor myself.

His eyebrows rose.

‘You want to shag?’

‘Yeah.’ No use lying about it.

I hadn’t gone out with the sole purpose of pulling, because honestly, it wasn’t highest on my list of priorities anymore. I’d gone out to have a few drinks, maybe chat with someone, get to know someone… because it was lonely without friends.

I didn’t have trouble pulling if I wanted, but I was on a mission to be more honest with myself, and girls didn’t do it for me half as much as guys did. Sure, I liked girls, liked their looks and their assets—tits and fanny were great—but the truth of the matter was that I preferred guys. And I didn’t know any gay guys in town.

Well, except Ben, but Ben wasn’t my type. We’d shagged once, and it had been good, but that was it. Ben had been my first time with a guy, too.

Andreas was gone, Alex was gone—and even if they’d been here, they were in a relationship, so I had absolutely zero chance there.

But Nik was here right now. And Nik was fit—if I could overlook his outrageous style. Now, smack in the middle of winter, he didn’t look as flamboyant as he usually did it. It was hard to look camp with a thick winter coat and a hat.

‘Sure, Glenn. Let's go back to yours.’ He stepped up close to me and hooked his arm around my elbow.

When I looked at him he raised his eyebrows, daring me to say anything, so I let it slide and instead started walking.

‘So, how’s Oslo?’ I asked instead, trying to steer the conversation over onto something more neutral.

‘It’s awesome. Lots of fine guys down there.’

‘Anyone special?’ I might feel slightly guilty for bringing him home if he had a boyfriend—but not so guilty I would call this off. Whatever this was.

He snorted a laugh.

‘Hah. No. I don’t do boyfriends.’

‘Never?’ I didn’t do relationships either. That didn’t mean I didn’t want one though.

‘Never,’ he confirmed. ‘I haven’t found anyone worth the hassle, anyway.’

Yeah, that’s the truth of it, isn’t it?

I hadn’t found anyone worth my time either. I’d fancied Andreas for so long, and then when he’d gotten with Alex it had all become so muddled.

Had I liked Andreas or Alex? Had I fancied both at the same time? It had been confusing and frustrating.

Having them both at a distance for eight months was actually quite good. I could figure out my own head before I had to face them again.

Andreas wouldn’t be back from the army before July—and Alex was off to school until the middle of June at the latest. I had plenty of time to figure my own shit out.

‘So, what about you? What happened after you came out of the hospital? How long were you in the hospital for?’

‘Three months, all in all, give or take.’

‘Three months? Wow, that’s a long time.’

‘It wasn’t all together,’ I said meekly. ‘First time was three weeks. The second time was longer. Two months. And one week.’

He stiffened next to me.

‘You tried to kill yourself two times?’

‘Three, actually. Two times landed me in hospital, the third time was when I was in the hospital.’ That had been a low point. ‘I guess it’s really four, though. A few years ago I tried to swallow pills too, but I got sick and they all came up again before they could really do anything.’

‘Oh, Glenn.’ He clung tighter to my arm. ‘That’s some heavy shit. You’ve been struggling for a long time then. What is it? Depression?’

‘Yeah, I guess.’ I didn’t have an official diagnosis. None they had informed me of, anyway. I had no idea what was jotted down in my records. They would’ve told me if I’d asked, but I could never be arsed with it. What did it matter what was in my damn journal?

Clearly, I was depressed since they’d put me on antidepressants, and all. If it was official… who the fuck cared.

‘Are you on any medication now?’ One hand still clung to me, but the other came up to stroke my arm soothingly. Not that I felt much of it through my thick jacket.

‘Antidepressants.’ Carefully administered by my mother, because she was deathly afraid I’d try to take all of them at once again like I’d done after my first hospitalisation.

I’d never even known she cared that much about me, but now she wouldn’t leave me alone. If I could, I would move out, but I figured it was better right now to just stay at home and save money on rent and bills and food. All I paid for right now was my phone bill, so a lot of my income—such as it was—went to savings.

‘Are they working?’

‘What?’ I’d completely lost track of our conversation.

‘The antidepressants?’

‘Oh. Yeah. I guess.’ I felt a little lighter, anyway, not like the weight of the world was pressing me down. I still had bad days, and horrible days where all I wanted was to die, but they were fewer and further between.

‘That’s good.’

He hugged my arm and it felt strangely… good. I’d never walked with anyone like this before. It was almost like holding hands, except not, because holding hands was quite intimate, but this was more platonic.

Or so I thought anyway, but maybe other people didn’t.

No one was around anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. It was dark out too, so no one would even recognise me or Nik if we did meet someone. Not that I knew anyone, but Nik might and if they recognised me in his company… well, the cat would likely be out of the bag then. I wasn’t sure I wanted it to be. Not with Nik.

But we reached my house without meeting anyone.

‘We’re not going in through the front door?’ Nik asked in surprise as I pulled him with me around the house.

‘No. I’ve got my own way in.’ Not that it was a door, but my window was big enough to get in and out, so when I didn’t want to meet anyone in my family—which was often—I used that.

‘Oh, right. The window.’ Nik eyed it with distaste. ‘Now I remember.’

‘Nothing wrong with a window. I use it all the time.’ Hence why it was open. All I had to do was push on it and I could jump down into my room. ‘It’s great for avoiding my family.’

‘You avoid them often?’

I was sure there was an unsaid ‘or just now when you’re with me’ in there.

‘Yeah. Come on.’ I motioned for him to climb through. ‘Trust me, Nik, you do not want to go in the front door and suddenly find yourself face to face with my brother.’

He grimaced—but that scenario did it. He climbed through and jumped down to stand next to me.

‘Yeah, I don’t fancy meeting your brother at all.’

‘No one wants to meet Marcus.’ Least of all me, especially when in the company of the most stereotypically gay man in town.

Marcus would take one look at the two of us, put two and two together—even he was bright enough for that—and go ballistic.

I closed the window after Nik so we wouldn’t freeze once we got undressed.

I didn’t want to worry about my damn brother. His room was on the ground floor, so it wasn’t like he ventured into the basement all that often. We weren’t close, after all, so he never came down here to have a chat with me.

‘You’re not the tidiest guy around,’ Nik commented drily as he kicked off his shoes.

‘Yeah, well…’ My room wasn’t tidy at all. Dirty clothes were strewn about and dirty dishes I hadn’t bothered to carry upstairs piled on my desk. This wasn’t half-bad though; the room had been three times as bad back when I’d been really depressed.

‘But your bed’s all made.’ He turned around to beam at me and dropped his thick jacket over my desk chair. He didn’t wear one of his trademark vests today—probably too cold. Instead, he had on a tight pink T-shirt with a just as tight black jumper underneath.

I so wanted to pull both tee and jumper off him—and slide his black skinny jeans down his legs to bare what hid underneath.

‘Instead of undressing me with your eyes,’ Nik said lightly, ‘how about you actually undress me with your hands?’

He had a point.

So, that’s what I did.

There was nothing quite like sharing lazy kisses in bed.

It was dangerous though because it was somehow more intimate than the sex we’d had before. Or maybe not more intimate—was anything more intimate than sex?—but it evoked more feelings.

And I didn’t want feelings in the mix. Not for him. But the kissing was so bloody good I couldn’t help myself. I had to have more of it.

He was all hard planes, clearly male, but warm and pliant. One of his hands was tangled in my hair, the other resting at his side as he lay halfway on top of me.

I cupped his neck with one hand, the other resting over his waist. Sweat cooled on our bodies, to the point it was starting to get a little cold resting on top of the sheets.

I tried to pull the duvet out from under us, but it was hard to do while we lay so intertwined and still kissing. I had to break the kiss, which wasn’t any fun, to get the bloody duvet out from under us and then drape it over us to get some warmth back.

‘Nice,’ Nik murmured, snuggling in close to me again.

‘Mhm,’ I agreed, more interested in kissing him again than having a conversation.

He seemed just as eager to continue our snogging session, and he smiled against my lips. I turned us over so he was on his back and I lay halfway on him, pressing him into the mattress.

I had no idea how long we kept it up. A lot longer than the sex, that was certain. That had been quick and dirty, right down to business. This… this wasn’t.

‘Mmm.’ Nik stretched out once I rolled off him. ‘You want me to leave?’

‘You don’t have to.’

I didn’t want him to leave, which was weird. We’d had sex. It was done and over with. But I still wanted him to stay, to sleep over. Maybe we could shag again in the morning. Even if we didn’t… it was simply nice having him around.

‘Hey, I’m not going to move unless I absolutely have to.’ He bumped me playfully.

‘You don’t have to.’ I let my arm flop over to rest over his stomach. ‘I want you to stay.’

‘Good.’ He patted my arm. ‘Because I don’t particularly fancy moving right now.’

I chuckled.

‘Yeah, no, me neither.’

‘Go to sleep. If you’re good I’ll give you a BJ in the morning.’

‘If I’m good?’ I turned my head on the pillow to look at him, eyebrows raised.

He grinned cheekily.

‘Yeah, no molesting me while I’m asleep.’

‘I really can’t make any promises.’ I tickled his side and he squirmed away from me, slapping my hand.

‘You want a BJ or not? Because if you do, no molesting. Hell, if you’re really good, I’ll let you fuck me again.’

‘You would?’ Now, this was something I could go along with. ‘You’re not too sore?’

‘Oh, please.’ He swatted my hand away. ‘If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s some nice butt-fucking. Trust me, Glenn, I’m used to it. You really think anyone’s ever going to expect me to be anything but on the receiving end?’

I swallowed nervously because honestly, I couldn’t quite see it, no.

On the other hand, I wanted to be on the receiving end, but I was a regular masculine guy and I wasn’t supposed to want someone else’s dick in my arse.

Yet I did. I craved it—but I never asked for it.

Well, except that one time… Anyway, I’d mostly been with girls, and there was only one way to have sex with a girl.

‘Exactly.’ Nik rolled his eyes. ‘Because I’m effeminate and not that tall, everyone expects me to be the one to take it up the arse. People like you, who don’t look gay—’

‘I’m not gay,’ I said automatically.

He gave me the side-eye but kept on talking.

‘As I said, people like you who don’t look gay, are expected to want to stick your dick into every hole you can find. If you want to bend over and have a dick in you, that’s somehow wrong because you’re so big and tough and a proper guy and it’s not how things are supposed to be.’

Yeah, exactly.

‘You’re not even denying it.’ He sounded a little bit frustrated now. ‘If I said I wanted to be the one to fuck you, would you let me?’

Panic welled up inside me.

‘Nik—’

‘Exactly, Glenn. You wouldn’t. A fit guy like you wouldn’t want a sissy like me to fuck you in the arse. It’s all so stereotypical and wrong.’

‘Can we not talk about this?’ I asked in a strangled voice because damn it all, but I wanted so much for the roles to be reversed. I just didn’t dare say it.

‘Sure.’ But he didn’t sound particularly happy about it. ‘I’m tired anyway.’ He turned his back on me—and the nice, relaxed atmosphere we’d had earlier, eviscerated, just like that.

Nik was gone when I woke up, so he hadn’t gone through with his promise of a blowjob. After our talk before we went to sleep, I hadn’t expected a morning fuck, but the blowjob would’ve been nice.

Especially as I woke up with morning wood. Not that that was out of the ordinary.

I reached down under the bed and drew the box I kept all my stuff in out. I’d got condoms and lube from it last night, but I had no idea where we’d scattered the half-empty tube so I needed a new one.

Once I got myself off and threw the tube back into the box, and half-heartedly kicked it back under the bed, I went to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

I hadn’t had so much to drink last night that I was hungover, so that was a plus. The fact I’d seen Nik when I had made sure alcohol hadn’t been on my mind much.

Back in my room, I stuffed my laptop and charger in my rucksack, then got dressed. I threw the rucksack out the window ahead of me before I climbed out as well.

I was going to go to the bakery to get some breakfast, then head to the library to get some writing done. It was always easier to write there than at home. I didn’t know why, but at home, I always got distracted by something or another, be it online or in my room.

Not that there wasn’t WiFi in the library, but it was somehow easier not to get distracted in there.

Since I couldn’t bring food with me to the library, I chose a table in the corner of the café with only enough space for two people. Since I was on my own there was no point taking up a table for four.

I toyed with my phone as I ate, somehow ending up on Nik’s Facebook. We weren’t friends, but he seemed to have most of the stuff he posted on his profile visible to everyone. He hadn’t posted anything new in a few days, though.

It irked me that he’d left early in the morning, sneaking out without even saying goodbye.

He could’ve at least left a note.

The times I’d done the same to countless hook-ups gnawed at the back of my mind.

Getting a dose of your own medicine. How’s that feel?

It felt really shitty, actually.

Maybe I should text him? Would that be okay? Was there some unspoken rule in the land of one-offs that said I couldn’t text him? Was he pissed about our conversation? Surely it hadn’t been that bad…

‘Fuck,’ I muttered, biting anxiously on the plastic fork.

I had no idea what to do. There was a reason I only did one-offs. Because they were only one time.

After eight months of nothing, could our actions last night count as a second one-off? Was I not supposed to obsess over it and instead move on?

Fuck that!

I didn’t want to move on. Which was frustrating because I didn’t actually want Nik. Not as more as a one-off. Or more-off. As-long-as-he’s-here-off.

He couldn’t be on holiday for more than a week, surely?

I wanted to spend that week with him. We could fuck our brains out. Maybe I’d even work up the courage to ask him to do me like I wanted. That wasn’t very likely, but… I could dream.

Fuck this, I’m texting him.

I had to. I couldn’t sit here and bite nervously on the bloody fork all day. I had work to do and as long as I was obsessing over Nik, I wouldn’t be able to get anything written.

Time to grow some balls and take a chance.

Now all I had to do was wait. And hope he would answer. Because he would, right?

He kept me waiting for ten bloody minutes though, but when my phone did beep, I was afraid to see what he’d replied.

What if he told me not to text him again?

I’d already done that. All on my own. That was boring too—especially as my hand was all I’d had for the past eight months.

I confused him? Like he was a fucking open book. I didn’t understand him at all.

What with a date with Nik arranged and thousands of new words written, the day was going pretty well.

Until I came home, anyway.

Where I found my room in pristine condition. All my dirty clothes were gone. The dirty dishes too. And worst of all, the box I’d carelessly kicked under the bed had been moved.

‘Shit.’

If Mum had been in here… okay, not if. She had been here. And she’d found my box. My secret stash; not of porn magazines as would’ve been the case when I was younger before I could find everything on the internet, but of my sex toys. The dildos and the lubes and the condoms and the butt plugs.

Oh fuck.

My stomach was in knots, my chest felt tight with anxiety, and my face burned in embarrassment.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Why the hell did she go through my room? I was an adult. I lived home by choice, not because I wasn’t old enough to move out on my own. She had no right to go through my things.

That bitch.

It was called privacy for a reason. Just because I wasn’t the tidiest guy around didn’t mean I wasn’t going to get to the cleaning eventually. I could carry my own dirty laundry over to the laundry basket. I could even put on a machine all on my own.

This was a total breach of trust.

Not that I trusted her much to begin with.

Not that I trusted anyone.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ My knuckles crunched as I hit the wall—and that last loud fuck wasn’t because of my panic but because of the pain that lanced up my arm from the impact. That pain enveloped the panic, pushed it down and away for a minute.

I sank onto my bed, cradling my hand close as I rode through the throbbing in it.

What was I supposed to do now?

‘Hey!’

I jumped as Marcus rapped sharply on my partly open bedroom door.

‘What?’ I was not in the mood to deal with him.

‘What’s your problem?’ He scowled at me. ‘Not going to try and off yourself again are you?’

‘No.’ As if I would tell him if I were.

‘Good.’ He scowled harder.

‘Was there anything else you wanted?’ I asked, pronouncing the words carefully just to annoy him.

‘Yeah. Mum wanted me to give you these when you came home.’ He held out a glass of water and a closed fist. A closed fist that very likely held my antidepressants. ‘It’s so important, apparently.’

It was.

I was supposed to take them at roughly the same time every day.

‘Thanks,’ I murmured grudgingly, but when I went over and tried to reach for the glass, pain shot through my hand again. ‘Ow, fuck!’

Marcus’s eyes narrowed.

‘Would you lay off the act?’

‘What?’ What the hell was he on about?

‘That act you’ve got going that makes Mum go all nurse on you. Even Dad tiptoes around you.’ He thrust the glass against my chest so water sloshed over the edge.

I cradled it close with my unharmed hand.

‘It’s not an act.’

‘Yeah, it is.’ He opened his fist to reveal my tablets.

I held out my hurt hand. It shook as Marcus dropped the pills in my palm.

‘Don’t you fucking dare do anything down here when I’m home.’ He crossed his arms defensively and glowered.

‘I’ll make sure not to die when you’re around.’ I tipped the pills into my mouth and took a big sip of water to wash them down with.

I was so done with Marcus and his bullshit.

Why couldn’t I have a normal brother who cared? Andreas might not have his parents, but he had his sisters. They were proper siblings. They could chat together, they cared about each other, they were there for each other.

Marcus and I had never been close. We never would be close. Especially not after he went after Alex with an iron bar.

I would never forgive him for that. I couldn’t.

‘Why do you want to die anyway?’ he asked brusquely.

‘Do I need a reason to?’

‘Isn’t that usually how it goes? What, is life too hard for you?’

‘Something like that,’ I muttered, turning my back on him to put the glass on my desk.

‘Get the fuck over it, Glenn. Mum’s been in a right state ever since last year when you decided to swallow all those damn pills.’ He hit the doorway with a slap of his palm, then slammed the door as he left.

‘Arsehole,’ I murmured, feeling like a coward for not being able to say it to him when I had him in front of me.

I just couldn’t confront him. I wanted to. So much. Back when I found out he’d bashed Alex… Andreas hadn’t been happy with me. He’d even hit me. I’d wanted to do Marcus in then. Still did.

And about a year ago, when he threatened Alex at the football field. I’d wanted to be the one to plant a fist in his face—but it had been Andreas who did it instead. Because I’d stood frozen. I hadn’t been able to deal with my own damn brother.

‘Shit.’

I needed to get my mind off of everything. But what the hell could I do?

Mum had been in my room, she’d seen my stuff. She knew. And I had no idea how she felt about it. I didn’t want to know either. It was personal. Too personal for my mother to know about.

There was one person who might understand. Would he mind if I texted him again? I had no one else to talk to, after all.

After chewing anxiously on my bottom lip for several minutes, going back and forth with myself, I grabbed my phone and started typing.

I closed my eyes. I hadn’t meant it like that.

What the hell did he think I got up to?

Shit. He wasn’t supposed to know that.

But why else would I have fucking dildos and butt plugs if not to use them on myself?

I was such an idiot. I shouldn’t have texted him.

I wasn’t ignoring him. I just didn’t know what to reply. I was fucking mortified here.

I had been, yeah. He was right. I’d never treated Nik badly though. Never given him much thought, to be honest. He’d been… there. In my periphery vision as Ben’s best friend, but other than that… I’d never given a shit about him.

How could a simple conversation through text turn into such a fucking disaster? All I’d wanted was to ask for a little advice on what to do now my mum knew about my sex toys, and instead, it had turned into this train-wreck.

Nik was pissed, we had no more plans for tonight… and all of this because I couldn’t fucking admit that all I wanted was someone to fuck me nice and good.

I fell onto my bed. It was better than throwing my phone across the room. Much less expensive too.

Why did I always fuck everything up?