by Elaine White
“I swear,” Fearghas took a step forward until he stood right in front of him, but stopped when his Pops held out his hand, “I promise you both that I knew nothing about it until tonight. Cross my heart.” And he did. As if that changed anything. “I asked Deryn what she was thinking, betraying your secret like that and even thinking that it was a good idea to trick you. She said that Antonio agreed, so she thought it would be a nice surprise for both of us. Except...well, no one knows I'm gay,” he revealed.
Sterling looked up in surprise, unable to help himself.
Fearghas laughed at himself and nodded. “Yeah. Always have been. Deryn is too, by the way. Total lesbian, with a secret girlfriend. I guess you'd say we're each other's cover, at school,” he confessed, only to crouch down and sink to his knees. “I told her how she'd betrayed me, by even thinking of setting us up together, that I didn't need her to push me before I was ready to come out. She still thinks it would have been a great idea...had Antonio not interfered.”
With a deep sigh, he wiped a drop of rain from the tip of his nose and shrugged. “When I asked her what happened to you that night, she said that Antonio had sent them to find me, to find any way of convincing me to take a boat ride. He'd make sure you were there to join me,” he explained, rolling his eyes at their stupidity or maybe just their audacity. “When they got back, you were nowhere to be seen and Antonio started laying in on me for being gay. We had this huge fight, right by the lakeside–”
“By bushes.”
Fearghas went quiet, then nodded and his eyes widened. “You were there?” he asked, and it was clear that he’d had no clue.
That alone was enough to tell Sterling that he could trust this stupid, silly boy. The tears helped, though. The regret and apology in his voice, too. Even his Pops seemed to think the same, because he slowly released Sterling from his grasp and stood up.
“You boys go upstairs and sort this out,” he demanded, his tone brokering no argument. “I'm going to call your dad, to find out what he wants to do about this.” He walked off without another word, so Sterling got to his feet.
“I'll show you my room.”
It was awkward, for sure. Confusing and really overwhelming, but Sterling tried to stay as calm as his Pops was, as he led Fearghas into his bedroom. He shut the door behind them, for the private chat his Pops wanted them to have, and crossed to sit on the bed, huddled into the corner walls at the head of the bed.
Fearghas looked around uncertainly, then grabbed the desk chair and perched on it as though he expected to be asked to leave soon.
“Please,” Sterling said, speaking up only because he needed to, “sit with me. I'm really cold and...I just...I-I j-just want you t-to hold me.” He didn't know why his teeth started chattering; it was a bit late to go into shock and he couldn't feel his heart racing at all. But he was suddenly overtaken by an overwhelming sense of suffocation and fear.
It looked like Fearghas was going to refuse, until he looked up and met his gaze. Then his eyes grew wide, his mouth fell open and he rushed to his feet. He took off his jacket, kicked off his shoes and removed his jeans, leaving them all in a sodding mess in the middle of the floor.
Before Sterling could ask what he was doing, Fearghas turned and spotted the dresser on the opposite end of the room from the bed; he yanked open the top then the second drawer, pulled out a pair of thick joggers and stepped into them without a word. Then he grabbed a jumper, threw it over his head, tugged it down his chest and shut the drawers.
“Right,” he said, turning round again. He flashed a quick smile and headed to the bed with a purposeful stride. He gently sat beside Sterling and wrapped an arm around him. It was only when he willingly curled up beside him that both arms encased him and drew him into his strong chest. “You don't have to be scared. I won't let anyone hurt you,” he whispered, rubbing his arms and back.
From the way he was acting, Sterling began to wonder if he really was going into shock and just didn't notice.
“It's okay. It's just a panic attack. I...well, I get them all the time, actually,” Fearghas confessed quietly, leaning his ginger head against Sterling's. A part of him couldn't help but wonder what they looked like together, but now wasn't the time. “It started on my first tennis match. I was five and pissed myself before going on. I was shaking like a leaf, terrified out of my head and felt like I'd been dipped in ice. The minute my dad saw me, he asked for a ten minute delay, because I didn't feel well. Told them that he'd have me checked for whether I was well enough to play,” he admitted.
With a slight laugh, he continued to rub heat and comfort back into Sterling's upper body. “He took me to the changing rooms and helped me change clothes. He said that he'd once had the same thing and had been thrown into the showers, to heat up, but that it was actually the wrong thing to do, to heat the body up again so quickly. He'd ended up with a stinking cold and nearly got pneumonia from it,” he explained, his voice quiet and soothing right above him.
“He sat with me, just like this. Hugged me real tight and told me it was okay. That fear is natural.” Fearghas sighed and the exhalation ruffled his hair. “Without fear, there is no victory and no achievement. There's no relief. So he helped me heat up naturally, made me talk about why I was scared and the worst case scenarios. Then he asked where what had just happened ranked in the top ten of the worst things that could have happened. It wasn't even a four,” he said, with a hint of amusement that said he still found it funny, even after all this time.
“So, you see, this isn't your worst case either. This is just you realising what that might have been,” he whispered, only to stop and allow a ghost of a kiss to caress his forehead. “You're realising what might have happened, what could have happened and what didn't happen, because you escaped. But, I think, you're also realising that your attempt to escape was successful. You did it. You got away and you saved yourself. You didn't need a knight in shining armour to rescue you, because you're Sterling bloody Durand. You know who you are and what you want. And you'll do whatever it takes to get it.”
He almost laughed at how ridiculous that sounded, but held back. The awe and certainty in Fearghas' voice that was so sure he really was that kickass, made him feel incredible. And, surprisingly, the slow rubbing of his upper body was already removing the unnatural chill that had enveloped him.
“I've never had a panic attack before,” Sterling whispered, feeling the need to share that information with him.
“Well, you've never been attacked by an ignorant homophobe before, either. I'd say it's a pretty natural reaction,” Fearghas insisted, as if anything else would have been wrong. As if freaking out like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing.
Being this close to him and hearing him talking so freely of his feelings, again, when he didn't have to, Sterling couldn't help himself. He nudged tighter into Fearghas' embrace and smiled as his duvet was lifted over his shoulders and rubbed against his back.
“Thank you, for coming over despite what you found out. For actually being willing to tell me the truth. A lot of people would have made an excuse to stay away and kept their mouth shut. I don't think I would have remembered if it wasn't for that look on your face,” he confessed, beginning to make sense of things now.
That shadow walking through the bright lights was Fearghas, leaving his friends to go buy their tickets. So, if that was true, Sterling had been knocked out immediately after he turned his back, then remained unconscious for about ten to fifteen minutes. The voices he'd heard and that Glaswegian accent had been Fearghas, arguing with Antonio because Deryn had been selfish enough to spill his secret and throw him out of the closet.
God, he would never have believed that of her. Not that he'd have guessed she was a lesbian, either, but it wasn't like every person walked about with a name tag that labelled their preferences.
Who knew that one of the nicest girls he knew other than Ginny would be such a stupid, naïve cow? Sterling couldn't think of her as anything else, after w
hat she'd done to Fearghas and what she'd allowed to happen to him. She hadn't spoken up at the lake side, when Fearghas was there, and said, “Look, Antonio's done something stupid and kidnapped Sterling.” She didn't say squat!
“What did Deryn say about me being tied up?” he asked, needing to know.
“Tied up?” Fearghas sounded disgusted, raging mad, but there wasn't anything Sterling could do about it. He just kept quiet and waited for a reply. “She said that Antonio had convinced you that I hated you, that I was straight and dating someone. She claims that he never actually did anything to you, but when I asked her how you ended up in the water, she said she didn't know and I believed her,” he admitted.
For a long moment, they were both quiet, acknowledging the fact that Deryn had very probably been lying to him. Someone had to know he was in that bush, other than Antonio. The guy was barely five feet two and skinny as a weed; there was no way that he could have lifted Sterling on his own, even though he wasn't much in height or weight himself. He'd been a dead weight, almost literally, so Antonio would have needed help to get his limp body out of sight, so that no one spotted them.
Finally, Fearghas sighed. “Can you tell me what you remember?”
He could, so he did. Everything up to the moment he lost consciousness in the water. It must have only been for a split second, because he muttered, “Thank God!”
It wasn't until Sterling lifted his head to look him in the eye that Fearghas explained.
“Some kids panicked because their friend was about to dive into the water, after throwing his paddle in. One of them spotted your hand poking up through the water,” he said, his voice shaking just a little bit. “The kids freaked and started rocking the boat, trying to get away from what they thought was a dead body. Their shouting attracted a lot of attention and, I didn't really mean to do it. I just acted on instinct. I jumped in to rescue you.”
“Except, you didn't know it was me,” Sterling realised, now finding his actions even more heroic than before. He hadn't jumped in out of guilt for what his friends had done; he'd reacted as any decent swimmer would, in a stressful situation.
Fearghas shrugged, but smiled a little and reached up to brush his hair from his eyes. “I honestly never knew it was you. Not even after giving you mouth to mouth on the way out of the water. You weren't really responding until I got you on land, then we both coughed up a shit load of water and everyone rushed to help,” he said, either trying to downplay his part or because he was leading up to another confession.
Sterling was annoyed that he couldn't tell which.
“After the paramedics took you away, I found Deryn and Antonio huddled by some bushes. I was going to say something, but then I saw a bunch of stuff on the ground and picked them up. Your phone and keys,” he elaborated. “I couldn't find anything else, so I checked for ID and found your 'lost and found' tag. I couldn't believe it when I saw your name and remembered who you were.”
“Big shock, huh?” Sterling asked, still not sure how he felt about that.
Fearghas shrugged again, his face turning much more uncertain. “I sort of remember us being friends, at one point. But, back in Scouts you always went by the nickname 'Stevie', so it never really clicked with me who you were,” he confessed, reminding Sterling of that stupid mistake he'd never confronted.
“I hate confrontation,” he replied, hoping to ease Fearghas' own confession with one of his own. “The Scout leader kept calling me 'Stevie', no matter how many times I told him my name, and it just became so much easier to roll with it than argue. It never even occurred to me that no one remembered my real name,” he admitted, wondering how he'd been stupid enough to forget that, over the years.
To his relief, Fearghas didn't look angry – though he had every reason to, considering how judgemental Sterling had been about his ability to forget a best friend – he just smiled and shrugged it off. “When you were outed, I told my dad what they were doing to you at Scouts, how they were treating you, and he said to stay out of it. That arguing was bad for you,” he explained, as if that made any sense. “He said that you didn't deserve to be stuck with those homophobes as Scout brothers, so it was better that you left. Dad withdrew his funding and I left too, just a week or two after you did. The summer holidays came and, by the time we got back to school, I couldn't find you to apologise for what they did. I didn't realise because I was looking for a 'Stevie' instead of a 'Sterling.'” Those last words came out with a soft hint of laughter that made him flush.
And, suddenly, he realised what had happened. Sterling felt so stupid that he wondered why it had never occurred to him before. He slapped himself on the forehead and ignored Fearghas' confused laughter.
“I had a massive growth spurt. Grew to like five seven and was feeling kind of fragile, so I grew my hair long. I figured I could hide behind it,” he admitted, realising that Fearghas never had a chance to apologise. Sterling hadn't given him a chance to. He'd been so ashamed of what happened in Scouts, so forgetful of his 'nickname' and devastated at losing Fearghas' friendship. He'd gone into hiding, using nature's disguise to pretend he didn't exist, never realising that he was cutting himself off from the only friend in the world who wanted to be there to support him.
No wonder poor, stupid Fearghas hadn't recognised him. He'd literally disappeared off the face of the earth, leaving both of them believing that they'd been abandoned and left behind by their only best friend.
Chapter 8
Lifting his head to apologise, Sterling was shocked to find his crush staring at him intensely. Then lips moved closer and brushed his own.
It was soft, sweet and the most chaste, wonderful thing he'd ever felt in his life. His eyelids fluttered shut and his lips parted of their own volition. Instead of taking it further, a nose brushed against his and Fearghas exhaled a shaky breath against his cheek.
“I've been wanting to do that for a while. Probably since we were thirteen,” he confessed, in a whisper.
Sterling didn't know what to say to that; he'd thought his crush of a few years had been excruciating, but he realised it was probably worse for Fearghas, never knowing he was still around and there to be crushed on. His crush had been crushing on him, while thinking that he'd disappeared because he'd been so badly treated by his so-called friends. What a mess it was!
“Why?” he asked, unable to help himself. He never trusted anything that was too good to be true. And this, right here, was exactly that.
“Ever heard of...sapioromantic?” Fearghas asked quietly, while rubbing their cheeks together.
Taking a deep breath, Sterling thought back on all that his Pops had taught him about various sexualities, back when he'd been questioning his own. Being an intellectual, he'd freaked out that maybe he was only gay because that was his view of a socially acceptable relationship; that his parents’ positive, loving relationship had convinced him that he could only find the same with another man. Then his Pops had educated him and he realised how naïve that had been.
He recalled sapioromantic, though. It was an attraction – either physical or emotion – to the brain and intelligence. So the person often chose their romantic, sexual or platonic partners based on a strong, intellectual mind and the ability to stimulate their thoughts. Looks made no difference, but sapioromantics could seek platonic, asexual relationships as well as fully physical relationships.
“Um,” licking his lips, Sterling took his heart in his hands and gently pushed away from Fearghas for a second, “yeah, I know what it means. And...do you know what asexual means?” he asked, peeking up at his crush.
He had hope, because Fearghas had said 'sapioromantic' and not 'sapiosexual', which meant that he wanted to clearly define himself as finding intelligence romantic and attractive. He was not, however, using the second term which would imply a sexual arousal towards that intelligence, so Sterling could only cross his fingers and hope.
“Yeah.” Fearghas laughed a little, as he banged his head against the wall,
his body visibly deflating with what looked like relief. “God, yes, I know what it means. And, I'm kind of hoping right now that you're ace? Because that would mean we are totally, no arguments necessary, no compromise, compatible,” he elaborated.
Which was almost exactly what was running through Sterling's mind. A lot of people, teenagers especially, would never really know of or accept asexuality, because they thought it weird that someone of his age didn't want to have sex. But he'd never once seen the appeal, become aroused at the things that society suggested he should. And it wasn't because he was gay. Gay porn had the same lack of reaction as any other attempt he'd made to test his theory.
Having Pops in his corner, there to talk him down from his initial panic and tell him it was okay, was great. But to hear Fearghas use a not widely known term such as sapioromantic meant that he'd done his homework, he'd figured himself out and he'd most likely looked into what other labels and categories he might have fit, along the way.
Instead of answering, Sterling ducked in and stole a long, light kiss. A hand pressed to his back and Fearghas deepened the kiss, while smiling against his mouth. When they broke away, he sighed and leaned forward until their foreheads bumped.
“I can't say how relieved I am,” he said, cupping his hand to the back of Sterling's head. “I've been crushing on you since we did that Scouts project together and I could see how smart you were. It was just so amazing to sit and watch you think through all the problems, to listen to you working it out. It made me feel amazing, even though I had nothing to do with it,” he whispered. “Then, when I got older and realised that I didn't want to be physical with anyone, I kind of freaked out. I scoured the internet looking for answers and first thought I was asexual.”
With a shuddering breath, he let out a small laugh. “It wasn't until a year or two ago that I even heard of sapioromantic, for the first time. And it just hit me; that was how I felt. Who I was on the inside. I was an asexual sapioromantic, who had no interest in sex, but who found the mind – your mind – fascinating.” He smiled against Sterling's forehead.