“And then my dad called to ask about it, and I had to tell him. He didn’t handle that call well. He struggled and told me it was wrong, but as the years went by, he came around. I think my siblings helped a lot with that.” Wes almost felt bad for sharing. In some ways, his own experience made him feel like he was boasting…or bragging that he’d had it easier than Art. “I’m so sorry about yourmom.”
“Don’t be sorry. When she passed, I remember wondering if deep down somewhere in there she loved me or if she was so steeped in dogma that she justcouldn’t.”
Wes took Art’s hand. He wasn’t even sure what had led to the impulse…to soothe him, hesupposed.
Art gripped on and seemed to force asmile.
“No more of this,” Wes insisted. “I want that smileback.”
Art gave it to him, and that eased Wes’stension.
* * *
They didn’t releaseeach other’shands.
Art figured someone might walk by and see their gesture as meaning so much more, which would spread all sorts of rumors back at the community, but he didn’t care. He appreciated the handholding, especially because after what their conversation had stirred, Art had needed the comfort of a friend. However, as much as he figured they could be caught by someone like Carol—who would text the news back to other members of Heathrow until their walks became even more scandalous than they likely already were—no one approached, and eventually, they naturally let their grip slide. It was strange when not long after, a walking group passed by. Art waved to Lily and Deborah, both of whom would have surely been eager as could be to rush and share salacious details about something as revealing ashandholding.
“Too bad we couldn’t give them a show,” Wes said as they came up to thepond.
Without another word, he headed off-path toward the log they frequently took a break on since they’d discovered it. Art set his backpack on the forest floor as they sat together and shared a cup oflemonade.
Their little mallard friends were nowhere in sight, as sometimes was the case, and each time that happened, Art had this fear that would creep into hisawareness.
Wes took a breath and wiped the back of his hand across his sweat-soaked brow. “It’s definitely getting a lot hotter. A particularly nice June,though.”
“Yeah, we’ll be dripping our way on the longer trail inJuly.”
“But it’ll still be a nice walk,” Wes said before taking Art’s handagain.
Art blushed. Before Wes had arrived at Heathrow, blushing had been such a foreign experience to Art. He was used to getting worked up by the news or some injustice in his life that would stir his anger, making the blood rush to his face like that. He was even used to getting a little flustered or embarrassed in his day-to-day routine. However, blushing for this reason, because of the interest of a man, that was a whole other thing. It had been over a year since he’d even messed around with another man. But even then, it was just for them both to get off. There wasn’t any sort of attraction or interest outside of that. It was fun, but Wes conjured a sensation more like something he experienced when he was much younger…when he still had silly ideals and dreams about the men he messed around with…when he thought they could be more thanbastards.
“Well, this was an unexpected walk,” Artadmitted.
“Unexpected…andnice.”
“Yes, very nice.” Art knew they were both talking about much more than theirwalk.
Wes leaned toward him, studying his lips the way he had that day in thepark.
Again, Art felt the past and present collide as they sat there, his imagination replacing their history with them holding each other’s hand on that day… What if…what if they had shared something so simple then? What if he’d followed that impulse? What if they’d done what their hearts had compelled them to do? If there had been no societal rules or laws…if they had transcended the exterior world they were in and succumbed to their internalneeds?
He remembered so well how much effort it’d taken him to hold himself back as he desperately waited for Wes to make a move. But what if it had been different? What if he was back in that moment and could have it to do all overagain?
With that, Art lurched forward, pressing his lips againstWes’s.
A rush of sensation exploded within him, like fire searing across his face, pricking at his flesh. He pulled closer to Wes, as Wes’s tongue slid between Art’slips.
He hadn’t felt so deprived of affection until that moment when it seemed that his body was crying out from so much time without this sort of physical contact. Over the years, Art had convinced himself he was happy, that he didn’t need anything more. But that moment reminded him that there was so much inside him yet to be explored…that he could really feel aliveagain.
Wes cupped his hands around Art’s face, unapologetically kissing him. Art could feel them bringing their past full circle as he felt like the sixteen-year-old boy and the seventy-seven-year-old man in the same moment, seizing an opportunity he wouldn’t let slip away. He wanted it to last forever, but in his desperation, didn’t permit himself so much as a breath of air, and eventually, his body demanded it, so he pulled away and gasped, his body quaking as though it had to recover from the surge of energy that now pulsed throughit.
Wes leaned back, assessing Art’s face before he cracked another familiar smile, one that assured Art he wasn’t alone in what he’dexperienced.
“That was nice,” Wes said, catching his breath, and Art couldn’t help but laugh, though he wasn’t sure exactly why. Maybe because it had been so unexpected…or maybe because it had been so very expected, but some part of him just couldn’t acceptthat.
Regardless, as Wes moved close to him once again, he didn’t care. All he knew was he was going to kiss himagain.
