Page 46 of Men in Shorts

John grinned, then shouted at the top of his voice. “Oi, Duncan, over here!” He turned to Brodie. “You need a wingman or will you be okay on your own?”

Brodie’s throat closed up at the sight of Duncan approaching. “Erm…”

“Wingman it is.” He stepped forward to shake Duncan’s hand. “Hiya! John Burns. Brodie’s told me about the magnificent work you’ve been doing with the Warriors.”

Duncan cast a bewildered look between them. “Sorry?” he asked John.

“He cannae stop blethering about your courage, and how you bring hope to so many LGBTQ folk.”

Duncan turned to Brodie. “You really said that?”

“Erm…” Those bright blue eyes, full of shock and wonder, were making Brodie’s face tingle.

“He did,” John continued, “and his admiration’s contagious. I’m a huge football fan myself, so I’d love to talk to your manager about a joint venture between the Warriors and our group here.”

“That’d be brilliant,” Duncan said. “There’s other Glasgow Uni students in the team, and we practice up the road at Ruchill Park.”

As he and John chatted about football, Brodie felt a spark of jealousy at the instant rapport between these two bold, beautiful lads. He scoured the room—past the DJ nodding his head and shimmying his shoulders behind his mixing board, past the nearly empty bowls of crisps and pretzels—searching for a way into the conversation so he wouldn’t fade into the woodwork.

He spotted a sign at the bar:Beer £2.

“Money!” he blurted. John and Duncan looked at him over their phones, where they were exchanging information. “A fundraiser,” Brodie continued, “for your charity with the LGBTQ asylum seekers. The Warriors could help you with that.”

John’s dark, sparkling eyes slowly widened. “A charity match,” he said in a loud, wondrous whisper. “It’ll be massive.”

“A charity match,” Duncan repeated pensively. “I don’t know if we’ve ever done one, but I can’t see why we couldn’t.”

“Yaldy!” John punched the air, then pulled Brodie into a quick, tight hug. “You’re a genius and I adore you. I adore you both. Och, this is amazing!” He turned away, pivoting in one direction, then the other. “Need to plan. But first, need to mingle. Aye. That’s my job just now. Later, my lovely lads!”

With a wave and a wink, John was gone.

Alone with Duncan, Brodie found it impossible to meet his eyes. “Sorry about John. He’s…excitable.”

“He’s right. A fundraiser’s a genius idea. Well done, you.”

“Thanks.” Brodie stared at the floor, shifting a fallen crisp back and forth with his toe. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here tonight.”

“You invited me, and I said I’d come. If you invite me to leave, I’ll do that, too.”

Brodie remembered John’s advice, to fight the fears holding him back from true happiness. Fight them for Duncan.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he said toward the carpet. “I want to be with you.”

“Sorry?”

Brodie looked up to see Duncan with a finger behind his ear, and realized he’d spoken too softly to be heard over the music. Probably on purpose.

“Don’t leave!” Brodie shouted, exactly half a beat after the song’s abrupt end. His voice echoed in the brief silence, making every head in the room turn their way. The other partygoers hooted and applauded. Standing near the bar, John flashed Brodie a thumbs-up and a cheesy grin.

A new song began then, a slow one. With all his remaining courage, Brodie took Duncan’s hand. “This is the only sort of dancing I’ve the energy for, so?—”

“So let’s use it.” Duncan led him to a clear space amid the couples. There the two of them raised and lowered their arms in an awkward pre-dance dance, trying to work out who was to lead. Their antsy maneuvers mirrored Brodie’s uncertainty. Getting back together couldn’t be this simple, not after all the hurt and fear between them.

Finally Duncan linked his hands behind Brodie’s neck. “You lead. You’re taller.”

“Only a wee bit, but okay.” Brodie felt his own breath stutter as he wrapped his arms about Duncan’s waist. He reminded himself to leave space between their bodies so he could keep his wits.

“You’re feeling better?” Duncan asked.

---