So, here's part two. Just to let you know, the chapter titles come from tracks of bands that I was listening to as I wrote the chapter. Chapter one I was listening to Bloc Party, and that song seemed to work well. For this chapter, it was Snow Patrol.

Part Two – In My Arms

The boys had ended up in a place called Four Star Pizza, a small diner just around the corner from their apartment. The two had made conversation over the footy, and music.

They had sat at their booth and ordered a medium sized double cheese pizza, and two cokes.

"So, what do ya think of Dublin so far?" Connor asked, scratching his chin.

"Well, so far, I've seen Dublin Airport, the road to the apartment, the apartment, a very busy O'Connell's street and here… so far it's alright… not like I pictured it when I applied, but it will get better once I actually go to Uni."

"So you didn't go to an open day?"

"Nah, just looked at some brochure's and stuff… and I love Guinness, which was also a deciding factor!"

Laughing, Connor scratched his neck before dropping it onto the table, right onto Craig's hand.

Craig's stomach jumped as his eyes fluttered to the contact. He took a deep breathe and looked up at his newest acquaintance with bated breathe.

Connor's eyes rested on their joined hands and he was almost smiling. He seemed okay with the contact. Or am I just reading too much into this? Craig thought as he audibly gulped. And was it just Craig's imagination, or did Connor just gently stroke his hand?

The boys kept chatting, hands in constant touch and it was driving Craig insane… he could barely make any reasonable words leave his mouth; it was just a bunch of yes's and no's.

Craig's jeans felt too tight for his own good.

It was only when their waitress returned with their dinner that Connor withdrew his hand.

Craig could breathe again.

They both dived at the pizza like men who had not seen food in their lives before and it was completely gone within minutes.

They chatted some, but if you asked Craig what about, he couldn't tell you… it went in one ear and out the other… all because of those two bright blue spheres's looking at him so intently.

Splitting the bill, the boys rose to their feet and decided to find the closest off-licence and buy the cheapest beer they could find.

"So, what made you decide to come to Dublin?" Craig asked, as he and Connor scanned the street for any shop's that appeared to sell alcohol.

"Well, Trinity has the course I wanted to do, and I wanted to get away from my family for a little breather, so I though 'why not go to the other side of the country to get a little space?'. I mean, I love my family, but sometimes, they just drive me up the wall!"

Laughing, Craig looked at his feet to stop Connor from seeing his face darkening to a red shade. If only he knew about my lot! Craig thought.

A bright green neon light shone before the two, a Heineken sign.

"A-ha! Alcomahol!" Connor joked, placing his hand over his heart.

Pushing the door open, Craig waited for Connor to enter before doing so himself. Shelves stacked to the brim with wine, beers, alco-pops and spirits surrounded them once they entered. Finding the cheapest priced beer, Craig whipped out his wallet, now carrying Euro, and said he'd get this.

Accepting his offer, Connor helped him pack it into a box and held the door open for him as they left.

Returning home, it was just before the starry night was hidden behind foreboding storm clouds.

With the TV on, his feet on the coffee table before him, a cold beer in his hand and his new friend to his right side, Craig was feeling better than he had just 6 hours ago.

He had promised himself that he wouldn't think of what happened that afternoon, but how could he not? That boy was… IS the love of his life, his soul mate.

As the bottles got emptied and piled on the table, the alcohol grew in their systems.

The glow from the TV screen illuminated the living room of the boy's apartment. Craig replaced his third bottle, now empty, with his fourth. And, all those times he had been called a lightweight, he now believed them. He felt incredibly loose and confident.

As he settled back into the settee, Craig specifically rested his leg against Connors. An indefinite spark passed between them.

"Ah, Stella… my cheap friend!" Connor exclaimed, finishing off his third bottle also. He reached forwards and grasped another bottle, popping the top off.

Their legs in contact, the two drank in the comfort of each other's silence, listening to the chatter of conversation on the TV.

And still the boys talked, about life, their hopes and fears, their experiences and expectations, pasts and presents… loves and friends… and enemies.

But every time Craig got close to the topic of his summer, he always water coloured it, dodged his explanations with a quick story that he 'got engaged but they split just before I came to Dublin' – it was as close to the truth as Craig could get without lying too much. He had enough of lying.

Connor said that he had just ended a two year relationship with a girl from back home, since he would be here, and she would be going straight into the workforce.

"And how is singledom going for you?" Craig asked, drinking deep from his bottle.

Connor shrugged as he stretched. His free hand dropped from the air and land on Craig's knee and, much to Craig's nerves, remained there.

"I'm getting used to it – slowly!"

Connor took a drink before chuckling.

"So, you had a lucky escape from marriage, eh? How was that?"

The worst decision I ever made was asking Sarah to marry me, second after asking her to come to Dublin with me, Craig thought.

"Um, it just… we just fell apart."

"Fell apart?"

"Yeah, she was getting all these modelling gigs in London and I was left wondering what she was doing… or who, to be accurate."

And there it was… the never ending pit of lies and secrets… and Craig had throw himself neck deep in it all over again.

"She cheated? Man, I'm sorry."

His skin crawling at his own cowardice, Craig got very interested in the label on his beer bottle.

"Hey."

The couch shifted as Connor got even closer.

"Craig, look at me."

He didn't. His head was getting light as the smell of Connor washed over.

"It's okay to be sad."

Connor's firm hand took Craig's chin delicately and moved his head upwards, so that brown eyes met blue.

"I'm sorry for ya, mate."

When Craig looked into those blue eyes again, he felt himself get lost. He felt his body leaning closer to the warmth of the Irish one beside him.

They were breathing each others air; eyes looked in a sparkling glaze. Craig worshipped the trepidation that was pulsing in Connor's eyes.

His bottle was placed at his feet, Connors on the table before them.

It was instinct to take the Irish boy in his grasp, with him resting in his arms.

Maybe it was the beer he was drinking, maybe it was fate's cruel joke as their lips ever so slightly, ever so excitingly, brush together.

It was a rush, to kiss someone else. To feel them close to him. To not feel rejected.

But Craig knew it couldn't last, so he pulled away first and rose from the couch, spilling his beer in the process.

His eyes stung as those blues eyes gazed at him, a-wash with confusion.

He couldn't stay there. He had to run.

But was it his imagination or was it Connor that whispered that tiny, four letter word, that he was sure could not have been real?

"Wait."