“Tell me about it,“ replied Callum.

Stumbling towards them, Patrick was grinning. “Hey you two!” he hailed them, slapping Josh on the back as he passed, swaying a little, into the front room.

He was loud enough to draw attention over to them from a few others. Callum shifted uncomfortably. He’d manage to avoid Damon only because he’d brought his latest female admirer to the party. They were outside somewhere last time Callum looked, lips locked, oblivious to anyone else. When Patrick had passed, Josh leaned closer to the rails, his lips close to Callum’s ear.

But where? Every room was full – front room, kitchen, dining room. Too cold outside. His bedroom was completely out of the question. He didn’t want to give Josh the wrong idea about him – Callum wasn’t that forward.

 Stumbling into the kitchen, Patrick, a little inebriated, had radared in on the fridge before spotting Callum and Josh standing by the bench. Six pack of Fosters clutched to his chest, he raised his eyebrows, grinning disgustingly.

 Instantly recoiling, he grabbed his hand, letting the kettle crash to the floor. Scalding water'd spilled over his hand rather than into the mugs.

            "Here, stick it under the tap."

 The water'd stopped flowing over his hand. Still stinging slightly, but cooler. And still resting in Josh's.

            "Um, yeah." He pulled away, staring intently down at the bench. "Thanks. Sorry."

            "It's ok." But Josh didn't move.

  As Josh leaned towards him, slipping his hand along his cheek, Callum felt his heart madly jumping around inside his chest. Josh let his hand rest on his cheek. Their faces were so close. Closing his eyes, he breathed Josh in, deeply. Soap and CK One. Briefly their lips touched. But then Josh pulled back.

Leaning back against the bench for support, Callum watched him, feeling his body deflate. What was wrong? What was the problem? Hands running through and catching in his chocolate brown hair, Josh turned away. Unable to think of anything to say, Callum kept staring at him, feeling anxious. Anxious at the possibility that he didn't like him.

            "What am I? Some sweet, stupid, innocent little kid?"

            "What?"

            "Kiss me."

 Wherever his nerve was suddenly coming from, Callum wasn't about to suppress it. Not if it was leading him down this particular path. Especially not when Josh, stepping back over to him, took him up on the offer. Willing his heart to settle down, he rested his hand on the back of Josh's head. Soft hairs tickled under his fingers. And holding onto each other, they kissed, slowly. Josh's hand moved down to his waist, pulling him closer. His other hand slid down Callum's neck and shoulder, and down to his hand, gently holding onto his fingers.

            Shit. This is happening.

 Smiling, as they broke from their embrace, Callum was definitely sure. He was falling for him. Josh touched his face, not taking his eyes from him.

            "I take it that means ‘yes' then, Callum."

   He’d been cornered by his best friend as he was picking up beer cans from the garden. Most of their friends had gone. It must have been past 1am. Callum had wanted to clear the garden before he crashed for the night. Save having to get up early before their dad got back from Oxford.

            "Am I what?"

 Callum looked at his best friend, who was stood in front of him, almost blocking his way. Looking into Damon’s face, the anger and hate he saw, Callum suddenly realised that he didn’t know his best friend at all.

            “Piss off, Damon.”

No. It didn’t scare him. It made Callum angry. He pushed him aside and strode back into the kitchen. There was no-one else about.

            "You shit, man."

            "What?"  The feeling rushed down his arm, tightening in his hand.

  Callum pulled his arm free and stared at him.

 Damon, once again, grabbed his arm, trying to jerk him around. But the punch to the left side of his face was not what he'd expected. Callum struck him as he latched on, catching Damon's cheek as he pulled him round. Perversely, the sudden release made him feel much better. Crashing back against the fridge, Damon clutched at his cheekbone, howling.

            Throwing the front door open, and running down the front path. His body shrunk in as he stumbled outside into the cold, autumn night. Hugging his body, he wanted to pull himself inside. He wanted Josh. To hold him. Feel him. Why was that so difficult?