They'd been friends, and then they'd been rivals; competing for Nina's attention.

Then, he'd sniggered unkindly at the picture in the paper... trying to ignore the odd flare it produced in his chest. He'd thought it was disgust (told himself it was disgust)... but really it was the lie. The one that crept up in the night and urged his hand towards a confused, throbbing, shameful erection.

Whatever. It didn't matter. He was straight. Deniz was straight. Until suddenly Deniz wasn't, and Tim could not stop thinking about him. Couldn't stop watching them together, and feeling that roaring flare.

Fuck.