They walked back to their apartment together. Like most 19-year-olds he was used to feeling confident. Confident about his sexuality, his life choices and his future, but this evening he felt none of those things. He wanted an arm round his shoulder and a protective embrace from his partner for no other reason but to feel him there. He asked for both and got them with no hesitation albeit a question.
“Is something wrong man?”
“No, it’s just, well…. No nothing.”
“Come on, open up, I’ve seen that look before, always when you want me to agree to something you don’t think I’m gonna like.”
“Those marks. The ones on my wrists, I don’t know how they got there. Or rather I do, but I don’t.”
“Well thanks for making sense, you sure you’re feeling ok?”
He pulled away from the comforting arm and faced the other, slightly taller man.
“Yes. I’m fine. I think. Let’s get indoors.”
They had reached the steps leading up to the front door of their building, slid the key in the lock and went into the elevator. Once inside their apartment he fell onto the couch and sighed.
“OK. Just hear me out. I know this will sound strange but go with me for a while here.”
His partner sat opposite him and leaned forward. The story came out in one long unbroken monologue. All the details, the guy, the car, the wall, the fucking and waking up in the bar.