A few minutes later, Andrew was almost wishing he’d accepted Colin’s offer. But he could do this, he told himself as he got into position. He could.

“Nice and slow, okay?” Colin said. “It’s been a wee while for me, as you know fine.”

“I know.” Bracing one hand on Colin’s back, Andrew smiled at this offhand declaration of their fidelity. “How’s that?”

“Erm…” Colin shifted a bit. “There. Now, just press but don’t push. If that makes sense.”

“It does.” He waited, the tip of his cock poised against Colin’s opening, until he felt it relax and draw him in. “Oh, it worked!”

Colin chuckled. “Aye, it did. But just stay there and let me get used to it. I’m not quite as, erm, receptive as you are.”

“Right. Okay.” Keeping his hips still, Andrew planted his hands on the bed for stability. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Colin said nothing for a long moment, then whispered, “I know you don’t.”

As Colin slowly drew him in, Andrew closed his eyes, in awe of the trust he’d been granted, today of all days.

Their progress paused when Andrew reached Colin’s second inner threshold. He bit his lip at the resistance, knowing what it was like for himself if someone pushed past when he wasn’t completely relaxed. The pain could be gut-rippling (though it usually gave way to pleasure). Colin had had enough pain these last hours.

He dipped his head and brushed his lips against the back of Colin’s shoulder blade, hoping to convey everything he felt with one simple gesture.

Colin sighed, and just like that, his body took Andrew all the way inside, deep and hot and tight. Andrew moaned at the sensation of being completely enveloped, and at the touch of his skin against Colin’s, down where it was warmest.

“Aye…” Colin breathed. “That’s good. That’s so good.” He turned his head to the side, a slight smile perched at the corner of his lips. “Go on then. Fuck me.”

Andrew settled low, spreading himself atop Colin, chest to back. He grasped Colin’s hands and brought them beside his head. Then he tilted his pelvis back, then forward, offering slow strokes that grew in length as he gained confidence.

“Ohhh, yeah.” Colin wrapped his thumbs around Andrew’s. “More.”

Clutching Colin’s hands like lifelines, Andrew picked up the pace, learning the contours of Colin’s passageway, watching and listening for signs he’d found the best depth and angle.

Suddenly Colin whimpered behind clamped lips, his eyes bulging wide. Andrew stopped and asked, “Are you okay?”

“God, yes.” Colin’s arse gripped him eagerly. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Andrew kept going, bending his neck to peer downward. Watching his cock move in and out between Colin’s taut round cheeks was like stepping through the looking glass to see a brand-new side of himself.

A small part of him wondered, Why did I wait so long to try this? But a much bigger part was glad he’d waited for this man, for this moment.

Andrew pressed his forehead to Colin’s nape, then dragged his teeth against his shoulder. “Yes,” Colin hissed. “Bite me.”

Andrew nipped at the soft skin, the skin that smelled like his own now, yet deliciously different.

“Harder,” Colin urged. “Bite me. Fuck me. Go animal on me.”

Andrew bit down, thrusting deeper. Colin groaned a “yyyyesssss,” his fingers spreading and shuddering, then tightening to clench around Andrew’s again.

“Do you want more?” Andrew gasped, his own pleasure already stealing his breath.

“Aye.” Colin rubbed his face against the sheet. “Give it to me. Gies everything.”

Andrew rose up and pressed both palms on the back of Colin’s shoulders. Raw power coursed through him at the feel of those muscles beneath his hands, at the sight of those arms that had possessed him so many times, now lying splayed to the side. At the sound of Colin’s once-commanding voice, whispering one soft word:

“Please.”

Andrew dug his knees into the mattress and began. He quickened his strokes, keeping them short at first to ensure he stayed inside Colin. Then they grew longer, then harder, then faster, until Colin was writhing and howling beneath him, clawing at the covers, begging for more, more, more.

And somehow Andrew was giving more. Somehow he kept going, though his own pleasure threatened to drown him.

But this was a different sort of pleasure than any he’d ever experienced. This pleasure was raw and hot and powerful—but it was in his control, at least for now. For now, he could last forever.

Andrew sat back, pulling Colin’s hips up to put him on his knees, thighs spread wide, face still pressed to the pillow. He was now completely at Andrew’s mercy. Completely under his command.

And loving it.

Colin had forgotten how good this felt. To have someone else maintain rhythm while delaying orgasm. To be cared for. To worry about nothing, think about nothing, to let himself go.

This was exactly what he’d needed.

Colin clutched the top edge of the mattress with both hands as Andrew’s slick, stiff cock glided in and out of him, lighting him up from the inside. With each thrust, Colin’s cheek rasped against the pillow, and another incoherent noise left his mouth.

Please let this never end.

Suddenly the strokes within him slowed, and Colin heard that familiar hitch of breath signaling Andrew’s impending orgasm.

Oh no, not yet.

Andrew carefully withdrew, giving a long exhale. “Whew, that was close.”

Colin rolled onto his back and gazed up at him through hazy eyes. “Uh,” was the only word he could manage.

Andrew wiped sweat from his own forehead. “Is it all right so far?”

“Aye, it’s…” Colin could barely form a thought, much less a sentence. “Aye.”

“Good.” He bent over and took Colin’s cock in his mouth.

Colin cried out, pounding a fist against the mattress at the skyrocketing sensations. Andrew swirled his tongue over and around the shaft as expertly as ever, then slid a pair of fingers into Colin’s eager arse, where they stroked and curled over his pulsing prostate, keeping him hot and hungry and dying for him.

After a minute, Andrew’s mouth released him. He moved between Colin’s thighs, spreading them wide. “Yes?”

“Yes.” Colin tilted up his hips, eager—greedy, even. “Need you.”

Andrew slid inside smooth as butter, then lowered himself onto Colin’s chest, where he paused, as if taking note of something important.

“You okay?” Colin asked.

“Aye.” Andrew closed his eyes as he moved deeper, and deeper still, until his balls pressed against Colin. “You feel so…right.”

Colin sighed with relief. Surely that meant this wasn’t a one-off.

“I love having you inside me.” Colin lifted his chin. “Kiss me.”

He did, and Colin held him tighter than ever. He felt he could throw his arms around the whole world. On this most miserable day of his life, to have such a feeling was an unimaginable gift.

Andrew reached down and wrapped his hand around Colin’s arse, possessing him the way Colin had possessed him so many times. Then he shifted atop him, tilting himself up and rolling his hips at a different angle. Colin’s pleasure suddenly surged to new heights.

“Aye! Yes, like that. Oh God, Andrew, don’t stop.”

Andrew made a surprised noise but obeyed, holding him fast as he plunged into him again and again, taking Colin higher with every ripple of his sinuous body.

Colin reached between them to grasp his cock. It took only a few strokes to send him flying, sparks bursting through every cell. His back arched, and every limb quaked as his come shot out to soak his chest.

“Yes,” Andrew murmured. “Oh, I can feel you come.”

“Come with me.” Colin moaned again, still riding the wave. “Come in me. I want to feel it.”

“I am.” Andrew moved faster. “I am. I’m—” He groaned deeper than Colin had ever heard him.

Then his body went rigid, and his head snapped back. In this moment, he’d never looked more beautiful. Deep inside, Colin felt the nod and throb of Andrew’s cock as it released its flood.

As their orgasms slowly receded, Andrew bent over to kiss Colin’s lips, cheeks, eyebrows. Finally he withdrew, then collapsed on the bed beside him.

Limbs weak, Colin reached out to touch his chest. “Andrew?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Andrew made a dreamy murmur, his lids fluttering shut.

“Also,” Colin said, “a towel?”

“No.” Andrew bent over Colin’s chest and licked him clean, trailing his tongue down his abdomen to follow the trail of come. Colin sighed and just watched as Andrew finished, then laid his head on Colin’s chest and gazed up at him. “Now can you sleep?”

“I think so.” He felt thoroughly wiped. His heart was still broken, but the last half hour had numbed his mind better than any booze ever could. In this sea of desolation, he’d found an island of peace.

He knew that later, reality would come crashing in, but for now, he could shut his eyes and feel safe.

When Colin woke, of course, despair lay upon his chest, heavy as an iron girder.

Last night, Scotland was stillborn.

As he lay there, reliving yesterday’s debacle, he realized it was only in the last month that he’d thought independence could happen. Before that, he would have been content with a well-fought battle and glorious defeat, knowing they’d awakened a nation.

But after coming so close, after letting himself believe for the first time in his life that a “skint lad fae the Drum” could have a voice, there was no comfort to be had. Everything Colin had worked for, everything he’d dreamed of, was over. How could he go on?

The answer slept beside him, with a face as smooth and carefree as ever. What must it be like to live without dread and fear?

He got up without waking Andrew, needing the comfort of like minds. Perhaps one of his Twitter mates had an inspiring word—or at least a good joke—to lift his spirits.

He pulled on a pair of Andrew’s flannel sleep trousers and went out into the sun-drenched reception room, where he found his phone on the TV console. Andrew had plugged it in to charge, but apparently also shut it off.

The moment Colin’s phone connected to the network, it started bleeping and buzzing with notifications. His inbox lit up with text messages from friends, both real-life and online, offering thoughts like OMG and I can’t believe it! and Yaldy!

“What the…” He opened Twitter to find 1,041 notifications, mostly replies to him and Andrew, just like last week.

But unlike last week, two other well-known Twitter accounts were also tagged.

Andrew, what have you done?

He skimmed the replies. One lass with a Yes badge on her profile pic called Colin her “hero” but lambasted Andrew for “too little, too late.” A lad with a No Thanks profile pic said, Fucking faggots should stay out of politics. Better yet, stay out of Scotland.

Colin tapped one of the replies to locate Andrew’s original tweet, which contained a video.

Colin pressed play.

The video showed Andrew sitting at his kitchen table, the faint blue light of dawn illuminating his face. He looked exhausted.

“Hello, Colin,” he said in a hushed voice. “It’s Friday, the twelfth of September, six days before the referendum. You’re sleeping in the other room, which is why I’m speaking so low.” He took a deep breath. “Last night when I told you I was up researching ‘the future,’ I didn’t mean only university. I meant something much, much greater.

“Firstly, Colin, I want you to know I didn’t do this for you. I respect both of us, as well as the democratic process, far too much to throw away my voice for mere romance. Secondly, whilst I didn’t do this for you, I did it because of you. Because you made me see how wrong this world is, and how it can be better.” He tilted the laptop’s camera down to show his postal ballot on the table before him. His pen was poised above the two boxes. “I don’t know if this is the answer, but it’s an answer I want to be part of. With you.”

Andrew drew a cross in the Yes box.

Colin covered his mouth, feeling he might boak again.

In the video, Andrew set down his pen and let out a deep breath. Then he released his famous winning smile, showing all was well with the world.

“Thirdly,” Andrew said. “I love you, you silly cybernat.”

The video ended. Colin’s knees gave out, and he sank onto the sofa, nearly sliding off the edge of the slick leather cushion.

ANDREW, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

Hands trembling, he replayed the video, which had more than three thousand retweets and favorites. By now it must have been noticed by those in power, perhaps even the Prime Minister himself. Colin scrolled down the endless list of replies, recognizing prominent names from both the Yes and No campaigns.

He knew he should be happy. He’d won, in a sense. Not only had he brought Andrew over to his side, but the man loved him. Andrew had publicly declared his feelings and his allegiance, regardless of the consequences.

Consequences. Andrew had brushed off his father’s vague threats, saying they amounted to nothing but a reduced allowance. But Colin knew that powerful people like the Sunderlands—not to mention the United Kingdom’s ruling party—could do much, much worse.

“They’ll destroy you for this,” he said aloud. “They’ll destroy us both.”

“And I thought I was the drama queen.”

Colin turned to see Andrew standing in the reception room doorway. He was wearing Colin’s Yes Scotland T-shirt and matching blue boxers.

“But I suppose every queen needs a king.” Andrew ambled over into the kitchen. “Can’t believe I slept past noon. I’m starving. What about you? Eggs and toast? I’ve got frozen crumpets for—”

Colin spoke his name, but Andrew turned only halfway, not meeting his eyes. Was he afraid of Colin’s reaction? Or did he already regret his declaration?

“I’m sorry if you feel ambushed,” Andrew said. “I meant to show you the video privately, but it never seemed the right time.” He opened the refrigerator. “Would you bring me my phone, please? It’s dreadfully bright over there and I’ve a massive headache.”

Colin switched on the device and laid it beside the sink. “I don’t know what to say.” I love you too? I’m pure happy you threw your life away for my sake? That color looks brilliant on you? Two out of those three statements were true.

“You’re probably the only one. I’m sure everyone else has loads to say.” Andrew set half a dozen eggs on the kitchen worktop, then picked up his phone. As it powered up, it played tones Colin recognized as text messages and voice mails, but Andrew’s frown deepened as he thumbed the screen. “Odd, my family hasn’t rung once. I assumed by this hour they’d be breaking down my door.” The intercom buzzed. “Ah, there they are.” He went to the console, pressed the speaker button, and said “Hiya” for the first time ever.

A man’s voice crackled through. “Yeah, I’ve got a telegram for a Mr. Andrew Sunderland?”

Andrew did a double-take. “A telegram? Is this a joke?”

“Why does everyone ask that?” the guy said.

“Because the world’s final remaining telegraph office closed last year in India,” Andrew replied.

“I’m from TelegramsOnline.com. We’re a messaging service. Look, I’ve got a busy schedule the day, so can you just let me up?”

“I’ll come down.”

The two of them dressed quickly. Colin noticed Andrew didn’t relinquish the Yes T-shirt—not that Colin wanted it just now. Then they hurried downstairs to the block of flats’ front entrance.

The burly messenger handed Andrew a brown envelope and said, “Oi, nice shirt.”

“Thanks.” Andrew signed the sheet on the clipboard. “Shitter of a morning, eh?”

“Aye. Cannae believe we only got forty-five percent of the vote. I thought it’d at least be close.” The messenger looked at them with bloodshot eyes. “Greeted my face off when they announced the results. All my mates, too.”

“Same here.” Colin was relieved—though not surprised—to hear he wasn’t the only grown man to cry over the referendum. Not since Uncle James’s death had he wept like that. “Might pop over to George Square later, see if anyone’s gathered.”

“I wouldnae.” The man shook his head and rubbed his black goatee. “Glasgow feels a powder keg the day. Everyone’s either cryin’ or—” He stopped and stared at Andrew. “Mate, you all right?”

Colin looked at his boyfriend and felt his own stomach plummet. Andrew’s face was deathly pale, his eyes fixed on the message in his hands. Colin grabbed the paper, a cream-colored sheet made to look like a telegram, complete with old-style typeface and a round, faded date stamp in the corner.

This is to regretfully inform you of your imminent disownment. The family solicitor will contact you regarding next steps. Enjoy your newfound freedom.

Sincerely,

Charles Sunderland, Marquess of Kirkross