“It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before,” Conor smirked.

“You've definitely gone insane, man! Why would you want to do that?”

“To see how far you will go,” he smirked at me. “And to see if you really have no problem with me being gay.”

This has to be a joke.

I shook my head and laughed it off. Without waiting for a response, I followed a red restroom sign emblazoned across a small corridor behind our table. Several posters advertising food options on the menu and wishing me happy holidays were draped on the walls. The voice of a guy sighingly singing through the sound system echoed through the corridor. With every step I took, the music got quieter and quieter, revealing a soft rustle behind me. Someone is following me. I glared over my shoulder, and as soon as I saw him, Connor smirked. He likes to go pretty far with his gags.

There were two separate single-person restrooms with unisex signs next to them. I went to the one in the back and waited in the doorframe. Let’s see if Conor is going for the other one or if he keeps following me. It was dark inside, and I searched for a light switch. Conor waited behind me and checked me out with amusement.

“I don’t have a problem with you being gay, Conor,” I said to see if that would throw him off his tracks.

“Cool,” he shrugged, glanced into the restroom, and then back to me as if he wanted to tell me I should finally step inside. Did he really want me to strip in front of him? He was right. We have seen each other naked before. We once went skinny dipping in a lake with our friends about four years ago. And... of course, we looked. But this? It was something entirely different!

Is he provoking me? Would he stop if I showed him I would follow through with it? I shouldn't be the one chickening out on a game I’ve suggested. So I held the door open to invite him in with a big smile.

“I’m game,” I replied, smirking right back at him. His eyes widened as if he didn’t anticipate me to do this.

“So, you are comfortable with showing me your dick?”

“It’s just comparing. Nothing else,” I replied and tried to stay as cool as the weather outside the airport while a storm wanted to break loose within me.

“Crazy,” Conor laughed and turned away.

“Where are you going?”

“Back.”

“You know you suggested doing this? Come back here.”

It’s always like this. He didn’t want to do this. Conor just wanted to provoke me. It was just his way of messing with me. But two people can play this game.

“Who’s a chicken now?”

Conor stopped and slowly turned toward me, now most likely thinking about what to do. I could see that he was just as competitive as I was. But I will not lose this one. Conor most certainly thought the same when he passed me and walked into the restroom, little by little pulling down the zipper of his pants.

I walked in, closed the door, locked it, and opened my zipper too.

Accompanied by a loud whirring of the ventilation, the white light over the mirror made the room feel cold. Our eyes locked on each other, and it felt like round two of our staring contest had begun. I will not back out because that is what he is aiming for. But before the fight truly began, Conor laughed, closing his eyes and turning his head toward the ceiling.

“I thought you were bluffing, Ash. But you're not.” He pulled up his zipper.

“No. You wanted to do this. Now let’s go through with it.” I opened the upper button of my pants. As I revealed the top of my black underpants to him, Conor glared for a moment. But his head turned red, and he searched for the door behind me. His eyes widened as he realized that I was blocking his only escape.

“You win.”

As I made no effort to move out of his way, he turned around and walked to the sink.

“I’m sorry I tried to provoke you,” he said with such a sad voice that I felt terrible for pushing it this far. I wonder what he is thinking now. He turned on the tap, putting his hands under the constant stream of steaming hot water, almost as if he wanted to wash off the situation he had provoked. What motivates him to do this shit when this obviously is not what he wants?

“I’ll leave you be now.” He shook off his hands and tried to squeeze himself past me. I grabbed his right wrist as my gut told me I shouldn’t let him go. Water dripped from his damp hands, wetting my palms. And still, his skin felt soft and warm, as if he was the solution to the freezing cold outside.

“I hope you don’t mean that in an absolute way.”

He looked scared, ready to run at any second if the need arose. As if he had decided to secretly leave while I was still occupied in the restroom. But I couldn’t shake off the feeling that his own actions caused this, not me.

“You better be still at our table when I am done here.”

I let go of his wrist and made room for him to leave. “I don’t mind that you tried to provoke me. But let’s better stop testing each other.”

A sad smile flashed on his face.

“Feels just like in the old days, doesn’t it,” said Conor confirming what I also thought before. It does feel like back then, but simultaneously in a good and a wrong way.

He closed the door softly behind him, leaving me alone to do what I came here for.

—

Conor stared at his phone when I returned to the table. The third burger he ordered was waiting with him. He shoved the plate toward me when I crawled onto the upholstered bench across from him.

“Sorry again. I think there was a small part of me that wanted revenge on you.”

I shrugged. “Can’t blame you.” It was still harmless compared to what I did.

“You know, I never was mad at you?”

“For what?” I asked.

“You know for what.”

The image of him falling into the pool was etched in my mind once again—how I told the others that he was gay and that he tried to hit on me, even when it wasn’t true. Why the fuck did I have to do that?

“Why not?” I stared at him in disbelief.

“I think you didn’t know how to handle the information that I was gay, and a fuse in your head just blew.”

This confirmed that he really didn’t know that his outing wasn’t a problem for me. Never. Not back then, not now. I mean, come on, that’s like the ultimate proof of trust. Why should I be mad about that? He was and is still the same person. No, my problem was something else. Something I regret now profoundly as it not only killed our friendship but also drove our whole group apart.

“Conor… I…” Was now the right time to talk about what had happened?

He kneaded his hands, waiting for me to continue. I took a deep breath. Even though I felt the urge to clear things up for him, to tell him what actually drove me that day, talking about my feelings is definitely not one of my strengths.

“We don’t have to talk about that, Ash.”

“No, it’s just….”

Before the right words came to my mind, the waiter guy, Joshua, gave us the pleasure of walking up to our table with the check in his hands. Thanks for interrupting, asshole. There was no way I could say anything now. Not with him eavesdropping.

“Can’t wait to get us out of here, huh?” I confronted him as we hadn't even finished our food yet.

“That’s my revenge for you guys not inviting me to your small soiree in the restroom.”

Conor’s and my eyes got big, surprised and ashamed that he had noticed.

“Here is your dick… Sorry, check, gentleman.”

We were too perplexed to say anything else, and Joshua left us with a triumphant smile. We didn’t even do what you thought we did. I searched for Conor’s face, hoping to find support for the awkward feeling that lured in the back of my head. But it was too late for him to hold back the biggest laugh of the evening. And as soon as he started, it became clear that I couldn't contain my laughter either. The sense of freedom I felt there and then was so loud that even the other servers stretched their heads over the bar to see what was happening. After some minutes, the music eventually drowned our glee, brushing off all eyes set on us.

“Let me invite you,” stated Conor.

“What? Never. I can pay for my stuff.”

“I insist. You already had to pay for your flight. And I want to make up for teasing you all evening.”

My stomach growled, begging to be fed, so I didn’t fight his invitation. Conor pulled out his wallet and put forty bucks on the table while I grabbed the extra burger and bit into it. We didn’t say anything until we left, as we both knew that the moment to talk about our past was gone for now.

—

7:24 pm. We walked through a vast hall that smelled like someone had cooked all the dishes in the world simultaneously.

“I guess it’s my turn to decide what we are doing now.”

“Even though we didn’t do my thing.”

“Yeah, but because you backed out.”

“As if you would have shown me your dick.”

“You should know I see stuff through to the bitter end to stand my ground.”

Conor nodded as if he somehow regretted missing his chance and suddenly wrinkled his nose as we walked past a place looking like a Japanese street restaurant smelling like rotten fish. The closer we got, the stronger the stench. So we moved as far away from the food court as possible and came across an expansive sitting area that was still decorated in the holiday spirit but somehow looked sad. The brightness of the neon tubes at the ceiling overshadowed the tiny fairy lights draped around the windows. A life-size cardboard cutout of Santa Clause ordered us to “take one,” but whatever candy was once in the plastic bowl he held was already gone. I spotted a map of the airport next to a Christmas tree, and we headed over to check out what attractions this place had to offer. The airport was only two stories high but spread out into a vast jumble of hallways.

“They even have a cinema here,” I pointed to it.

“And a swimming pool!” Conor glanced at me. “Life-saving to have that here!”

“You are right. A pool can be quite entertaining when you have so much time to kill,” I glared at Conor, who made a face as if I wasn’t right in the head. “It is decided then!”

I turned around and walked in the direction shown on the map. Conor didn’t move at all.

“You realize that this means we will have to take off almost all our clothes in front of each other?”