13
The following morning,Wes wanted to ring Art and tell him how much fun he’d had, but he knew that was silly—they were already going to see each other at breakfast—so instead, he hurried to getready.
There was definitely something between them—the excitement Art filled him with, the passion he ignited within Wes as soon as their bodies touched. Wes felt more alive than he’d felt in ages, so long it was hard to know just how long…to remember when his spirit faded, when he gaveup.
Art wasn’t there when he arrived at the cafeteria, and he checked his phone. He was a little early. They had stayed out late, he reminded himself as he worked to muster somepatience.
Grabbing his breakfast, he found a booth where he could keep a lookout at the entrance. Fortunately, Art came soon enough, and Wes felt the palpable relief of his presence. He stepped out of his booth and flagged Art down. When Art noticed, he grinned, his eyes beaming in the morning light flooding through the wide windowpanes around thecafeteria.
Beautiful, and each day, Art grew more and more beautiful tohim.
Art made his way through the buffet before sitting across from Wes, who inspected histray.
“Black coffee, two hot cakes, scrambled eggs…” He grabbed the pepper and went ahead and handed it to Art, who chuckled. “Nobacon?”
“They were out,” Artsaid.
“We’ll have to rectify this injustice,” Wes said, exaggerating his concern but starting to getup.
“No, no.” Art set his hand on Wes’s forearm. “It’s fine. I wanted to come and sit down anyway.” Wes stopped himself, and Art continued, “Something I wanted a little more thanbacon.”
“Sausage?”
“Oh, so vulgar, Mr. Brenner.” Art laughed the way he had the night before, with such ease, as though he’d stripped away some guarded part ofhimself.
Wes was all-smiles when he pulled his gaze from Art and caught something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see Kenneth Moore at a table not far away, glaring at them indignantly. Wes realized it was because of the way Art was touching him in that moment. He tried to look away quickly enough that Art wouldn’t notice, but Art apparently had noticed his surprise and caught Kenneth’s disapproving glare as well. He released Wes’s arm, but Wes grabbed his hand and kept it in place. He turned to Art and reminded him, “We’re not doing anythingwrong.”
It was something he had to remind himself from time to time, especially when so much of their lives had been spent being told these things were wrong. He reflected on Art’s hesitation at that bar. He understood it. He’d lived a similar life of persecution and pain, but why the hell should they spend the remainder of their time in the world oppressed by ignorantbastards?
Though Wes had said the words, it was clear that Art’s disposition had transformed because of Kenneth’sdisapproval.
“Don’t let him take this from us,” Wes whispered. “Not after everything we shared lastnight.”
“I’m only upset we didn’t sharemore.”
Wes assessed Art in his polo, which was tighter than usual. He wondered if Art wore it because he was feeling surer of his appearance than normal. He hoped that was thecase.
His thoughts shifted to the previous night, when he’d had the impulse to push past his weariness and tear away at Art’s clothes. It was a reminder that, at the end of the day, they were two animals and had impulses and needs they could only deny for so long. However, Wes was glad he’d resisted those impulses, because he wanted it to be incredible with Art. He wanted to be alert and fully present, not just them pushing their bodies through familiar motions to reach that intense climax. He wanted it to be the true culmination of everything they’d discovered with one another, and most importantly, to do everything in his power to make it impressive forArt.
Art shook his head, as though he needed to physically shake away the disapproving look Kenneth had offered. “This has all been so unexpected,” Artsaid.
“For both ofus.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment before Wes said, “We might want to finish our breakfast because I could spend the whole time just looking into youreyes.”
Art started to smile, but then his expression turned serious, as though he realized how serious Weswas.
“Would you like to go for another walk this morning?” Wesasked.
“I would really enjoythat.”
They finished their breakfast, and once again, walked together, taking the short trail back through the woods, around the pond. They didn’t stop at their log this time, but continued on, both moving at a quicker pace than normal. Wes scrolled through his phone, checking out the news, and they bantered some about the headlines that caught their interest, neither bringing up the date from the night before, as though neither wanted to spoil the magical occurrence it hadbeen.
“I don’t see our friends,” Wes said, searching around for themallards.
“I’m sure they’re around heresomewhere.”
Wes could feel Art continually glancing at him and smiling, and finally, in one instance, Wes turned back and offered a grin in return, and Artlaughed.
