A worried Scott scooted along the booth and took hold of Prin’s hand.
“Prin? You’re trembling. Talk to me.”
Prin’s bottom lip quivered as he fought to gain control over himself. With his free hand he grabbed his wine glass and took a slug. More for something to do than a need for alcohol. Although it wouldn’t hurt.
“Prin,” Scott repeated. “You’re scaring me now.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…I saw what we must look like through his eyes. He couldn’t believe that we’re a couple. Everyone will think like that.”
Scott squeezed Prin’s hand tighter. “No they won’t,” he said. “Don’t pay any attention to him.”
“You obviously did once or twice.”
Scott recoiled. “That’s a low blow. I don’t pretend to be a saint. Bloody hell, Prin. It’s a bit early in the day for all that.”
The wonderful things they had planned were in danger of fizzling away. Prin absolutely would not let that happen. Instead, he forced a smile onto his face.
“You’re right. I’m being silly. It’s not like I’m holding you here against your will.”
Scott kissed him. It was a slow and loving kiss that dispelled a good number of Prin’s doubts. No matter what the future held, Prin sensed this kiss was the real deal.
They separated and Scott grinned at him. “Better?”
Prin nodded. “Am I really your special someone?”
“You know what? I think you might be. Does that bother you?”
Bother him? It was more than he’d ever hoped for.
“I think I could get used to it.”
Once they got back to Prin’s, Scott instantly started unbuttoning Prin’s shirt. But the incident with Matteus was still playing on his mind.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked, shifting away.
“No,” Scott said. “I want you. Are you okay? We could have a look under your sofa for something to occupy us?”
Prin was touched that Scott wanted to make him feel better. He’d tried to act normal over lunch and their subsequent wander through town. But it had been an act and Prin didn’t want to do that with Scott.
“I’m still a little sore from the other day. Perhaps we could talk?”
“Ooh sounds heavy. Maybe I will have a glass of wine.”
Prin ushered Scott into the lounge and fled into the kitchen where he took an inordinate amount of time to pour two glasses from the open bottle in the fridge.
What the fuck is that matter with you?
Prin walked into the lounge. Scott had a worried expression. “If you’re going to dump me, can you give me a chance to neck that wine in one?”
“I’m not going to dump you,” Prin said, sitting next to him. “I’m being an idiot.”
“It’s Matteus, isn’t it?”
As he sat, Prin tried to really examine the problem. “Not as such,” Prin replied. “He’s more of a symptom. People will look at me and think I’m punching way above my weight. I don’t really care until I get that look of pity. Like do I know I’ll get my heart broken?”
Scott shifted down the sofa and rested his hand on Prin’s leg. “There’s no point me telling you not to think that. I’m not about to dismiss your worries, Prin. What I can say is fuck what anyone else thinks.”
Prin glanced away but Scott gently pulled his face back so they were staring into each other’s eyes.