Dave laughed nervously, grimaced. He looked as if he wanted to ridicule Sid's assumptions, but he did not.
Then he stopped laughing. His emotions became more balanced. He wanted to take another sip, but the can was empty. He cursed under his breath and crushed the can.
Slowly, Sid realized that he shouldn't have asked that if Dave was talking about himself. If so, Dave's heart must have been heavy with pain, yet Sid had to know.
"Dave ..."
"Yes," he admitted. "Fuck it all. So you know why I hate gays? Do not look at me like this. I don't need pity. "
"It's not ... it's not pity, I ..."
It wasn't really pity, it was sincere, real pain to feel knowing that a dear friend has gone through something terrible. It was more than compassion. It was... feeling pain together.
