Love Worth Pursuing

by Max Hudson

  Euan seemed a bit surprised, then laughed. “Be careful you don’t get wrecked like that.”

  “I’m fine, it’s just a beer,” Steve insisted. “And I want to see some more places.”

  They made their way out of the club. The night air was refreshingly cool, and Steve wondered how much time had slipped away in there. That would definitely be a place to recommend.

  “Where are we going next?” he asked.

  “There, down the street, do you see the one with the blue sign?” Euan asked.

  Steve nodded. “Sure do.”

  “This is a pretty good spot. Not so, hum, friendly. But not hostile. Just don’t assume anyone is gay,” Euan explained awkwardly.

  “I know what you mean,” Steve replied. “Let’s just have fun.”

  Chapter Seven

  Steve’s mind was a haze. He knew he had had too much to drink. In fact, this was the most drunk he had ever been before in his life. His feet were harder to find with each step. Lapses of time would pass without him realizing they had passed, and he would find himself dancing, or standing outside for fresh air, like he had woken up from a dream with no recollection of how he got there. But it felt good. It was like walking on clouds, accompanied by the most beautiful angel. He felt invincible and magical.

  It was warming every time he felt confused or lost, to look up and see Euan with him. Euan was, without a doubt, also very, very drunk. But he seemed more collected, standing stronger, always paying attention to what Steve was doing. Steve felt safe.

  “Come on... I… think we… we should go home,” Euan said.

  Steve wasn’t sure if Euan was actually pausing between words or if it was all in his head. He laughed. “Yeah, I’m done.”

  Euan laughed back. “Worse than… done...”

  Steve let Euan guide him out of the door, away from the lights, the smell of perfume and drink, and the heat of dancing bodies, into the almost peaceful, cold, refreshing streets.

  “How late is…?” Steve began, losing his words.

  “Around… two… or three…” Euan replied.

  Steve laughed again. “What was the name of that one?” Steve asked, taking his phone out, fumbling with it.

  Euan caught the phone before Steve realized he had dropped it. Steve felt Euan slipping it back into his pocket. “Just, uh, let’s… let’s do this when we’re home,” Euan suggested.

  Steve nodded in agreement. Every step seemed to clear his mind a little. Vomiting on the sidewalk a few minutes into the walk home also helped a lot. And the whole time Euan was there. Steve was pretty sure the tone was encouraging, but he couldn’t focus on the words at all.

  “I hard too much,” Steve said. “I should have… I don’t know.”

  “Not?” Euan suggested.

  Steve nodded. “That. I can barely stand. Can we have a break?”

  “A bit further first, let’s get away from the main road first,” Euan replied.

  “You’re a lightweight,” Euan said.

  Steve could tell now that Euan’s voice was barely slurring, but his body clearly unable to hide how drunk he was as well. Euan’s steps were a bit more direct than Steve’s, but he was still slipping from time to time, still a bit awkward.

  And then Euan actually tripped over. He managed to catch himself before his face hit the ground, but only barely.

  “I think you’re not much better,” Steve said. “Can we have a break now?”

  Euan laughed and pushed himself onto his knees. “OK, a bit.”

  They collapsed against a wall, breathing heavily, looking over the street.

  “How much further?” Steve asked.

  Euan shrugged. “Is hard to guesstimate.”

  Steve nodded. Now he could sit still next to Euan, it felt like Euan had got even more handsome. It was probably the alcohol talking, but Steve felt the urge to do absolutely anything and everything for Euan. He slipped his hand up Euan’s thigh and leaned in for a kiss. Euan’s hand lifted up and covered Steve’s lips.

  “You still smell of puke,” Euan said. “Besides, you’re drunk. I’m drunk. Just… calm down.” Euan reached down and moved Steve’s hand back up, to Euan’s knee.

  “You’re right,” Steve said. “But I love you.”

  He couldn’t believe he had said that. He shouldn’t have said it. He would take it back tomorrow. Blame the alcohol. Pretend he couldn’t remember.

  Euan seemed not to notice, but when Steve looked over, Euan seemed even redder in the face and was smiling. Had he heard? Had he replied without Steve noticing?

  Suddenly, Euan stood up, grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling Steve to his feet suddenly.

  “Wait, what-” Steve began.

  “Just, we got to move,” Euan said, looking ahead of them on the street where someone seemed to be approaching them.

  There was something up with how the person was moving. Determined, a fast walk, directly moving towards them. As he got close enough, Steve could tell it was a young man, around his same height, wearing all dark clothes. Steve spotted the man’s hand slipping into his pocket.

  “Over the road,” Euan said. “We have to get back to-”

  “Nah, you stop,” the man said, his hand emerging from his pockets with a glimmering flash of silver in it. His voice was clear and stern, even though his whole face was a blur. He seemed to be blond. Or maybe he was wearing a hat. Or a wig. It was too confusing, especially as Steve felt panic setting in.

  Steve froze. He wasn’t sure he could make it across the street, much less to where other people were gathered, before what was almost certainly a knife could be used on him. Euan almost felt despair, but realizing Steve wasn’t going to follow, he walked up closer to Steve and squeezed his hand hard.

  A thousand and one things crossed Steve’s mind as he noticed Euan’s resolute expression. Most of which would end up with them getting hurt.

  “Give me your money,” the man said.

  “We haven’t got much, we’re on our way home,” Euan said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet.

  “Yours too,” the man insisted.

  Steve fumbled to get his wallet out.

  “Hurry up!” The man was beginning to sound exasperated. He stepped closer.

  “No, wait,” Euan insisted. “He’s very drunk, just… let me help him.”

  Euan glanced down at Steve. Steve understood and nodded. Euan reached into Steve’s pocket and took out his wallet.

  “Just hand them over, phones too,” the man said, reaching out his empty hand whilst pulling back the knife a little, threatening to strike.

  “I haven’t got mine, man” Euan said, turning out his pockets. “And he probably-”

  It was too late, though. In his panic, Steve was already taking his phone out of his pocket, ready to hand it over. Steve’s hands were shaking. He dropped his phone as he tried to hand it over. The man cursed and snatched it from the ground swiftly, keeping the knife pointed up. Steve staggered and the man swiped with the knife. Euan stood between them all of a sudden. The man shouted something as he stepped back.

  As soon as the man shoved the wallets and phones into his pocket, he stepped backwards slowly before running off where he had come from.

  Steve collapsed onto the sidewalk again, only now realizing how hard and fast his heart was beating, how broken his breaths were.

  “Are you all right?” Euan asked. “I thought that could have gone… much worse.”

  Steve looked up. Euan’s hand was bleeding. Steve winced.

  “Why did you do that?” Steve asked.

  “I don’t know, I wanted to help...” Euan replied. “I wasn’t sure if he was going to… you know… get you. I didn’t want that. I guess it was dumb. I think he wouldn’t have reached, he was just trying to scare you.”

  “It worked,” Steve replied. “How bad does it hurt? Is it deep?”

  Steve felt half sobered already from the shock and the fear. Still sitting on the sidewalk, he sat up a li
ttle and ran his hands over his head. “We… we were just robbed.”

  “Yeah,” Euan said.

  “I didn’t think things like this would happen here.”

  “They happen everywhere.”

  “Often?”

  Euan shook his head and extended his unwounded hand to Steve. “No, this is the first time it’s happened to me. I guess it’s bad luck. Or something.”

  Steve reached up to take Euan’s hand and noticed how much his own hand was shaking. “I’m scared,” he said under his breath.

  “We got to report this,” Euan said. “It probably won’t help, but we have to try, right?”

  Steve nodded. “I’ve never had much luck reporting things.”

  “Same,” Euan agreed, taking Steve’s hand firmly, stopping the tremors with his firm grip. “But it doesn’t hurt to try. And your boss will probably want some kind of evidence something happened.”

  The walk to the station felt tense. It took an eternity and only a few minutes at once. It was like every little innocent shadow was hiding someone else, someone worse, someone who wanted to do more than take a wallet and a phone. He gripped onto Euan’s arm with both hands, telling himself it was for stability but knowing full well he was too scared to be separated from his protector.

  The officer, predictably, couldn’t do much with a vague description from two drunk men who saw the assailant in the dark. But he promised a patrol car would drive round the area a few times to check for any signs of the man.

  Sitting on the bench, Steve felt exposed, judged, and foolish. He knew from experience there was almost nothing that would be done. But Euan was right, they had to have some sort of report to prove to Alex that this had actually happened. Even if it all came to nothing.

  As soon as the officer got news back that there was nobody matching that description, he handed a pile of papers to Steve and asked him to sign them. There was a look in his eye that made Steve uncomfortable. Steve’s hand was still shaking as he signed something that would barely pass as his own signature.

  “If you do remember something a bit more precise, feel free to call back and mention your case number.”

  Before Steve knew it, they were out on the street, having to walk home again. Even choosing the main, best lit roads, it didn’t feel safe. People were beginning to emerge from pubs and clubs and Steve jumped a little whenever he saw someone with blonde hair, a yellow hat, or a dark coat. Euan wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist reassuringly, guiding him back. The warmth and smell of Euan’s body helped Steve feel safer, and every time he jumped he felt Euan squeeze him tighter.

  “I wish I hadn’t gone there,” Steve said.

  “The club?” Euan asked.

  Steve shook his head. “I… I don’t like the way the police looked at me. They didn’t like us, did they? And it makes no difference, I won’t get my shit back.”

  Euan shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess it’s what we have to do. But you’re right, it’s not likely to get the guy caught. We can’t even remember his damn face.”

  Euan held Steve even closer as they walked down the street, the B&B coming into sight. Even though they both seemed to be a bit more collected mentally, their bodies were still weaving back and forth as they made their way home.

  At the door, Steve slipped out from Euan’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

  “Let me… uh… I wanna make sure you get to the room,” Euan said.

  Steve nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”

  Euan slipped his hand into Steve’s. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

  “I thought you said we were too drunk?” Steve asked.

  Euan glared sternly.

  Steve laughed. “Joking.”

  Euan squeezed Steve’s hand and, without another word, walked him to the stairs.

  It was a bit of a struggle to get up, but it felt much safer inside, with the warm lights and the soft carpeted stairs. It felt like a refuge after all that had just happened. The room felt even better.

  Steve collapsed on the bed and rolled over a couple of times, appreciating the fact he didn’t have to support his own body weight anymore. “That’s better,” he said.

  Euan stumbled around a bit before bringing a glass of water to the bedside. “You need it,” he said.

  Steve sat up to take the drink and looked at Euan’s hand. “It needs another wash and a proper bandage,” he said, reluctantly sliding off the bed and moving over to his suitcase.

  “It’s fine, they put antiseptic on it at the station,” Euan insisted.

  “You need a proper bandage,” Steve said.

  “It’s a scratch,” Euan replied.

  “Proper bandage,” Steve repeated, bringing over his first aid kit and pulling out a roll of bandages, some tape, and a small bottle of antiseptic.

  Euan sighed and sat down on the bed. Steve sat next to him, pouring antiseptic onto the wound and following with some bandages.

  Euan laughed at Steve’s poor attempts at wrapping the bandages around his hand. “You are so bad at this. Here, let me do it.”

  “All right,” Steve said, letting go, watching as Euan wrapped the bandage around a little tighter and stuck it down with some of the tape.

  “That looks better,” Steve said, nodding.

  “When you can’t see it?” Euan asked.

  Steve smiled and shrugged. “It’s safer like that.”

  Euan leaned in and kissed Steve on the forehead. “Thank you.”

  Arms wrapped around one another, they collapsed back on the bed, still dressed, not particularly caring about it. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off Euan’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “That is gonna hurt when you have to work.”

  “I might take time off. And it’s not your fault. Honestly,” Euan said, his voice growing lower already.

  “It feels like my fault,” Steve said.

  Euan pulled Steve closer against his chest and began gently stroking Steve’s shoulder. “Get some rest,” he replied in a soothing tone.

  Steve wanted to protest, but he didn’t really have anything in particular to complain about. He was back, safe and sound, with Euan, cuddled on the bed together. It was fine. And anything that wasn’t fine could be fixed in the morning.

  Steve felt himself dozing off as Euan held him.

  Chapter Eight

  Steve sat up with a start, suddenly realizing exactly how serious his situation was. His sober clarity was slightly hampered by the raging headache he noticed a moment later. He groaned loudly, immediately regretting the groan as the sound of his own voice made his head throb.

  Euan grumbled. “Why so loud?” he asked, curling up a bit. “I’m sleeping.”

  “Headache,” Steve muttered, reaching for the glass of water on the bedside table, only to find it was empty. “And stressed. I have to sort so much shit. But my head...”

  Euan, just like that, had already got out of bed and fetched a glass of water. He then took the first aid kit which was still in the middle of the floor, and rummaged through it, pulling out a box of painkillers.

  Steve put his hand out for the painkillers and sighed, wondering why the light through the curtains had to be quite so bright. “Thank you. Hey, don’t you need some?”

  Euan shrugged. “I don’t really get hangovers. I just need breakfast.”

  “You must be some kind of an alien or something,” Steve replied, accepting the glass of water.

  “I thought so too, but it turns out that like a quarter of people don’t get them,” Euan explained.

  “Lucky, though,” Steve replied. “So wait, you’ve never had a hangover?”

  “Never.”

  “Man, if I were you, I’d have got way more drunk. No hangovers sound amazing,” Steve mused.

  Euan sat back down on the side of the bed and placed his hands on Steve’s shoulders, offering a massage.

  “Yeah, please,” Steve said.

  As Euan began to massage Steve’s shoulders and neck, he hummed a l
ittle to himself. “You know, I think it’s just the other risks that put me off drinking more.” His voice was low and gentle, barely there.

  “Like liver stuff?”

  “Like everything. Alcohol poisoning and stuff too. I worry about that,” Euan explained. “So, I try and play it safe. Besides, I had you to look after.”

  “That didn’t go according to plan, though, did it,” Steve said before he could stop himself. “Shit, I didn’t mean-”

  “If I hadn’t been there and more sober, or, well, less drunk than you, you could have been in danger,” Euan corrected.

  “True,” Steve said. “I was just joking. It wasn’t a good joke.”

  “Nah, sometimes we have to laugh at these things. So, what is it that has you stressed out?” Euan asked.

  “I need to sort everything, passwords, all that,” Steve explained. “They shouldn’t have got into my phone yet, but I need to make sure it’s all sorted before they have a chance.”

  “You should be fine, but that’s a good plan,” Euan said, taking his hands from Steve’s shoulders. “Let me get your computer. Where do you keep it?”

  “Just on the table.” Steve watched Euan go and bring the laptop over. “You are being super nice.”

  “I care about you,” Euan replied, putting the computer down and going to collapse on the bed.

  Care. That wasn’t the word Steve had used last night. He wondered if Euan remembered it.

  “Are you going to work soon?” Steve asked, as his computer screen lit up, showing it was half past eight in the morning.

  “My hand is kind of too messed up to do any work today,” Euan replied, lifting the bandage and peering under it. “I should probably go to the doctor later too.”

  “I mean, you said it wasn’t deep, right?” Steve asked.

  Euan nodded. “Not very, but it could still need stitches or something, I wouldn’t know.”

  “I don’t know if it’s worth the cost,” Steve remarked as he logged into his computer.

  “What cost?” Euan asked.

  “I keep forgetting that,” Steve replied. “I guess it isn’t free for me, huh? Probably for the best that I didn’t get cut.”

  “Well, maybe a bit, I’m not sure,” Euan replied.