The introductions that come with a new relationship remind Edwin of coming out: it never seems to end and every time, he needs to explain who and when and how. There's also a similar anxiety: will they judge him for choosing Vincent, for choosing someone feminine and radical? Being gay made him not the right kind of man, but a feminine partner might make him not the right kind of gay, for some people. Even if they don't mind that, Vincent can be a lot, with his brand of humour and confrontational nature.

At least the biggest hurdle has been taken and his family accepted Vincent without opposition. Only Ellen is still a little reticent because Vincent makes him so anxious, but she also mentioned afterwards that Vincent seemed to genuinely care about Edwin. The second biggest hurdle would have been Vincent's family and friends, but Vincent says Edwin has already met everyone who matters. Not because he doesn't care about his parents, but introducing Edwin might stretch the limits of their tolerance. Edwin is relieved because similarly, he has no desire to test his parents' tolerance by confronting them with someone who goes against every notion they have of what a man and a relationship should be.

That leaves Edwin's friends, so when his first friend group is planning a beer tasting, he asks if he can bring Vincent along.

"Of course!" Patrick replies. "We'd love to meet him."

"He might be different than you expect," Edwin warns. "He's very ... outspoken. Flamboyant. Not like us."

"As long as he drinks beer, he's welcome," Maarten jokes. So that's that.

On the second Sunday of March, Edwin drives both himself and Vincent to the brewery. It's a nice day on the cusp of spring and Vincent has put on loose-flowing lilac pants and a blouse with lace edges and pearl buttons. The colour of his eye-shadow matches his pants and his dangling earrings and simple golden bracelets complete the ensemble. It's a dazzling outfit and it's about as feminine as Edwin has seen Vincent. He only wishes Vincent hadn't chosen to look like this when meeting Edwin's friends. Edwin's very masculine friends.

He's probably doing it on purpose, making a point, wanting to stand out. Edwin shouldn't care, so he keeps his anxieties to himself, but he cares. He cares what his friends will think, what the people of the brewery will think. He doesn't want to tell Vincent what to wear and he wants him to be happy, but he wishes that Vincent for once would take Edwin's feelings into account and stop provoking for just a day, this one day. He knows Vincent sometimes dresses more conservatively than this, but he will have an audience today, so of course he dressed over the top.

Only Chris and Jacques are already there when they arrive, and Edwin breathes a sigh of relief. They're such calm people that he can't imagine they will judge Vincent for how he's dressed, and Edwin for being in a relationship with him. They're the sorts of people who read books and newspapers, who will be up to date with all the right words and ideas.

The introductions are indeed totally unremarkable and they strike up small talk while they wait for the others. They arrive all four at once and Edwin realises they must have shared a car. Patrick holds up his hand in greeting when they're still a hundred metres away and as they approach, Edwin clamps down on his anxiety. It's stupid anyway. He shouldn't care what's going through Patrick's head right now, or Robert or Maarten or Paul. Even if they're his friends, he shouldn't care what anyone thinks.

"Hey," Patrick says, "so you're Edwin's guy." He looks Vincent up and down and shakes his hand and the others do the same in their turn. None of them say a word about how Vincent looks, but maybe they're too polite for that. Even someone as blunt as Maarten wouldn't do that.

Patrick has booked a guide for their tour, so they go inside and someone leads them through the brewery and the brewing process. Edwin and Vincent follow at the tail of the group and Robert falls back to talk to them, asking Vincent polite questions about his job, how they met, all the standard stuff.

"You met Patrick on Grindr?" Vincent exclaims. "Darling, why didn't you tell me this? This is gold!"

"I thought it was what all the gay people did if they wanted to meet other men," Edwin says defensively, but he's smiling. He can see the humour of it now, when he hasn't opened Grindr in months. It's a small miracle Grindr was where he found his first gay friends, who so readily absorbed him into their group.

Patrick turns around. "What about me?"

Vincent puts a hand on Edwin's shoulder. "I just heard you found Edwin on Grindr. Tell me, on a scale from 0 to 10, how big was your shock that he wasn't looking for a hook-up?"

"Vincent," Edwin complains, but he's laughing and Vincent kisses his cheek to pacify him. Edwin quickly checks, but of course no one bats an eye. They're all gay, except for the guide, who's talking to Chris, Jacques, Maarten and Paul. Who knows, maybe even the guide is gay or bi.

"8," Patrick answers. "He was fully clothed in his profile picture, so that gave it away." They all laugh and Vincent kisses his cheek again.

"You're so precious, pumpkin."

Edwin huffs, but his face heats up. He'll take being 'precious'. "You're a menace."

"And proudly, darling."

They catch up to the group and Edwin tries to listen in earnest to the guide, but he keeps getting distracted by Vincent brushing against him. Every time it happens, he checks surreptitiously who is looking at them, what they might be thinking, and every time, he berates himself for doing it. In front of them, Chris and Jacques are even holding hands, casually and comfortably, as if they show affection in public all the time.

Maybe they do. They've been together for a long time, so maybe they've stopped caring about other people's judgement. Or maybe it's because they feel safe here, surrounded by gay friends. Here, with these people, it's not out of the ordinary to see two men holding hands. It shouldn't be out of the ordinary to hold hands anywhere, but here, it is normal. It would stand out more if he was holding hands with a woman.

Here and now, Edwin could hold hands with Vincent and nobody would bat an eye. Perhaps Edwin should hold hands with Vincent. What if it's something Vincent expects? He's never mentioned it, but it's a thing couples do. Edwin did it countless times with Ellen, but barely ever with Vincent. He was afraid they would attract ridicule from homophobes, but he also didn't know what he was expected to do with a man. He doesn't want to treat Vincent as a woman.

He reaches out and grazes Vincent's palm to signal his intention. Vincent turns to look at him and pulls up an eyebrow. Edwin sort of shrugs and grasps Vincent's hand more firmly. Vincent shakes his head with an amused smile, but he raises Edwin's hand to kiss his knuckles before letting their hands dangle. A blush creeps up Edwin's neck and he can't look at Vincent, but somehow Vincent's hand is grounding and reassuring and affectionate.

It rushes through him, that he can do this. Right now, he, too, is showing his sexuality to the world and nothing bad has happened. Maybe Vincent will tease him more later when they're alone, but Edwin finds he doesn't care. Vincent doesn't want to make fun of him; he's just showing affection. He's even stopped doing it as much in front of other people.

At the end of the guided tour, they get to taste a bunch of different beers. Vincent signals that he's going to the bathroom, while Edwin and the others claim a large table in the bar-like room. The server brings them the menus and an assortment of nuts to start them off. Edwin peruses the menu, but he can't decide what he'll drink without consulting Vincent who'll do the drive back. It's Edwin's car, but maybe Vincent is willing to drive.

Robert and Maarten are debating which cheese and meat platter they should order, when Edwin looks up and sees Vincent in the hall, but an employee is blocking the doorway.

"Sir, you're only allowed here if you have a ticket for the tour. You need to book in advance."

"I'm here with a group. If you will let me pass?" Vincent moves to get past the man, but the employee steps in front of him.

"Sir, don't make a scene. You need to buy a ticket."

"I have a ticket, dear. Don't assume that I'm lying."

Edwin stands up. "Patrick? Can you show our ticket? They're not letting Vincent in." As they cross the room, the conversation continues and Edwin speeds up. Vincent looks annoyed, but the employee is trying to loom over him.

"Can you show your ticket? Where is your group then?"

"Here," Vincent states, and he gestures at Patrick and Edwin.

"This man is part of your group?" the man questions and he looks between Vincent and Edwin.

"Yes," Edwin says, and he grabs Vincent's hand, taking position next to him, shoulder against shoulder. "That's what he told you."

"This man can speak for himself," Vincent asserts, and he tightens his hold onto Edwin. "Don't assume that I don't belong here just because I look like this."

"I was only doing my job. It was nothing against you."

"I'm sure it wasn't." Vincent turns away into Edwin. "Let's go, darling."

"You types always think that you're the victim when you're treated just the same as everyone else," the employee says against his back. "Everyone is so sensitive these days." Edwin falters in his steps with the shock of that claim. Vincent clearly had a reason to be annoyed. There's a front office, for fuck's sake. Vincent couldn't accidentally wander in here without a ticket.

He moves to turn back and say that, but Vincent blocks him. "Ignore him," he murmurs.

"What's going on?" The server who brought their menus has inserted herself into the small circle of people, looking between all of them.

"This man assumed my partner didn't have a ticket and insulted him for being annoyed," Edwin says.

"It was a reasonable assumption," the man argues. "I'm not ruled by political correctness or my feelings."

"Apologies, sir," the server says. "I'll mention it to our manager."

Vincent shakes his head. "Leave it, darling. We just want to enjoy the rest of our afternoon."

"Of course. I'll be with you to take your order in a few minutes."

They sit down and Edwin holds on to Vincent's hand, uncertain if he's reassuring himself or Vincent. Vincent leans in and says in a low voice: "You don't need to save me, sugar. I can defend myself."

"I know," Edwin replies. How could he not know? Vincent has never been too shy to tell someone off. "He needed to know I agreed with you. That you're not just ... sensitive. I don't know why you stayed so calm." The anger is still brewing inside him. If it had been him who had gone to the bathroom, the employee would never have questioned him. He couldn't stay silent in the face of that. He didn't want the man, Vincent, anyone, to think he agreed with the employee, that what he said was okay, just because Edwin stayed silent.

"There's thirteen a dozen of his type, honey. This was barely anything."

That doesn't make it better. Why didn't Vincent tell him? Did he think Edwin would dismiss him? "Is that why you were so quick to distrust me? If you deal with this all the time, no wonder you assume the worst when you meet someone new."

Vincent laughs. "Never would have thought I'd hear you say that, back then."

"I have learned."

"So you have, darling."

The server comes by and Vincent orders a Tripel, to Edwin's surprise. He sticks to a pale blond beer himself, so he can still drive them home. He doesn't know why he's so surprised at Vincent's choice. For some reason, he'd expected Vincent to pick one of the fruity beers, something light and sweet and feminine. He's never seen Vincent drink beer, but he assumed, that Vincent's choice would be feminine. That Vincent would be feminine in every aspect of his life.

The thought turns sour in his stomach. Isn't that what the employee did? The man assumed that Vincent was an outsider who couldn't be part of their group, that Vincent was too sensitive, that Edwin only defended Vincent because he was ruled by his emotions, by political correctness. Because Vincent is feminine, because Edwin is gay. As if emotions and treating people respectfully makes their choices wrong. Lesser.

It's not so different from this thought Edwin just had, that Vincent would pick a sweet beer because he hasn't developed the palette for strong and bitter beers, and strong and bitter is better. Masculine. If it's not, why didn't Edwin pick one of the fruity beers? He likes sweet things well enough, but he didn't even consider it because he knows it's feminine.

More than anything, it's the absurdity of this thought that strikes him, that clears up what Vincent has been telling him for so many months. Maybe he doesn't like make-up or jewellery or feminine clothes. But why draw this line between masculine and feminine beers? Why police himself on something so inconsequential? He's among friends, among gay friends. Not one of them would care.

Up until this point, he had never truly understood what Vincent meant with 'internal bias', but this must be it: the hidden assumptions that you never question, but are rooted in stereotypes and judgement. He'd always thought it was simple, not being sexist or racist or homophobic: don't be a dick and use the right words. If there was anything to learn, there was a clear end point in sight. But if he never questioned this small thing, what more wrong assumptions has he never questioned? What more things has he refused to do or done, just because?

If he views this small thing as the lesser choice, just because it is feminine, what does that say about his general views on femininity? He'd always thought Vincent's femininity was abnormal, even if he'd learned to accept it. But if this one unquestioned line is so artificial and absurd, how many more things are artificial and absurd? Maybe it's not a big deal if he doesn't make it one. Here, among his gay friends, his sexuality is normal; among Vincent's friends, his femininity is normal. Vincent has been telling him that he shouldn't care what people think, that he shouldn't conform to anyone's ideas, and this is what he meant: there is no normal. It's all artificial lines, feminine and masculine beers.

To the employee, Edwin wasn't normal either. He might not have cared they were gay, until he judged them too 'sensitive' for taking Vincent's side. If they should be 'normal' for such people, how long until they should be straight?

Edwin looks at Vincent, who is talking to his friends about sports, as if nothing happened earlier. He will tell him in the car, that he really, truly gets it now.

He will stop caring what anyone thinks.