Page 19 of Men in Shorts

He looked at Duncan, sitting a few feet away at the desk, bobbing his head to the music in his earphones. Brodie could still hear echoes of Duncan’s drunken laughter chasing him down the hall the night before vacation. Building a Duncan-proof shield was a task he definitely wasn’t up to. He couldn’t even bring himself to mention last night’s fight with Ma, knowing it would lead to tears.

So why had he wanted Duncan to stay while he talked to Geoffrey? Thinking back to the moment he’d heard his ex’s ringtone, Brodie realized he hadn’t wanted to be alone. He needed to stay strong in the face of Geoffrey’s emotions. And strangely enough, Duncan, who’d once made him feel so weak, now seemed a source of strength.

Brodie’s phone beeped with a Facebook notification. Another comment on the sponge-bath thread, no doubt. He’d made such an arse of himself.

After a glance at this latest Spongebob Squarepants quote (Remember, licking doorknobs is illegal on other planets!), Brodie scrolled up to his original comment, preparing to delete it. Avoid embarrassment and exposure at all costs—that was how he’d always lived.

Then he stopped, thinking of everything he’d said to Geoffrey. How they should be proud of who they were. How their pride changed the way others thought of them, and of gays in general. How the more “out” they were, the more “normal” they would come to seem.

Everywhere you look,his mother had said,there they are.

Aye, Ma, we are.He looked at Duncan.Even on the football pitch.

“What if we pretend it was you?”

Duncan turned halfway in the chair and took out an earphone. “Pretend who was me?”

“The original poster on this thread, the one who missed the lad in the Passenger shirt. You could answer my Spongebob comment, then I’d reply, and so on.”

Duncan furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Just for a lark.”

“But what if people think we’re serious?”

“We’ll make it funny.”

“They’ll still think we’re gay.”

“Wearegay. And we’re both out.”

“Yeah, but this is a public site with thousands of strangers. You sure you’re okay with?—”

“Forget it. I’m away for a shower.” Brodie slid out of bed and went to his wardrobe for clean clothes, feeling utterly knocked back. If Duncan didn’t want to be linked with him online, he clearly wasn’t interested in a real-life connection.

After his shower, Brodie returned to his room. Duncan didn’t even look up from his notes. Determined to be equally focused on exams, Brodie grabbed his statistics textbook and sat on his bed.

The notification light on his phone was blinking blue. Facebook.

He checked the app to find a new comment on the thread.

Duncan Harris: I think you meant “sponge bath”, mate, not “Spongebob”. And I intend to give you one, when the time is right. Sadly, I’ve no sponge, so my tongue will have to do.

Brodie let out a soft gasp. His skin prickled all over, and he felt suddenly weakened and invigorated at the same time.

“Too much?” Duncan asked without looking at him. “I can delete it if you want.”

Deleting the reply wouldn’t change the fact it had been sent to everyone else who’d already posted a comment. But it would do a certain amount of damage control.

Then again, this page and countless others were filled with straight couples’ flirtations, both real and mock. Why couldn’t he and Duncan share a harmless bit of banter? This was why Brodie had come to Glasgow—to find love and lust and everything in between, all without fear.

Before he could lose his nerve, he replied.

Brodie Campbell: I think after a tongue bath we’d both end up filthier instead of cleaner.

Duncan’s tablet chirped. He checked it, then laughed out loud. “Good one, mate,” he said, keeping his back to Brodie. Then he set the device aside and returned to his notes.

“That’s it?” Brodie asked. “You’re letting me have the last word?”

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