This last was added hastily, for he was pretty sure he’d rather go painting with Clay than without. But when was Clay going to run out of patience with him? They’d kissed once, and while it had been a pretty knee-weakening kiss, a young man like Clay was hardly likely to stick around if that’s all that was on offer.
When Quint parked the truck, Austin looked over the side of the truck bed and saw that they were on the edge of what looked like a small cliff of rock, where the drop-off looked sheer and disappeared into darkness.
Above them was the dark outline of the shoulders of the mountains, and beyond a flat expanse of dark green grass melting into grey. The sky was clear and moonless, darker to the east, still pinked with sunset to the west.
Quint got out and walked around to the truck bed.
“Hand me some blankets, if you would,” said Quint. “You fellows c’n stretch out in the truck bed or join us on the ground. I didn’t bring chairs, on account of there’s no point craning your neck for a good hour waiting for the stars to fall.”
“Thank you,” said Austin as he felt Clay stiffen beside him. “I appreciate the offer, but being a city boy, I’m terrified of snakes and would rather stay in the truck, if that’s okay with you.”
“Suit yourself,” said Quint. He took the armful of blankets that Austin held out. “Frankly, it’s a smart man who’s wary rather than foolish around wildlife.”
As Quint walked off into the gathering darkness, Austin smiled at Clay and bumped Clay’s shoulder with his own.
“You covered my ass there,” said Clay, smiling back.
“I got you, bruh,” said Austin in the way he imagined the cool kids would say it, which just made Clay snicker.
Together they laid out the layers of blankets, using one that they rolled into a long pillow for their heads. Austin arranged himself in a comfortable position, and just after Clay arranged himself at his side, a slow, sweet silence fell.
There was no sound but the wind whispering past the edges of the truck. No sensation but the curl of woolen blanket beneath them. No sight except the sky above them, dark and purple-hued, clear all the way up to forever as the stars, one by one, came out.
With a sigh, Austin moved his head to one side, and Clay’s head gently moved against his, and they stayed that way for a good long while, waiting and watching. When Austin clasped his hands over his belly, Clay did the same. When Clay stretched his neck, Austin did likewise.
When the first shooting star pierced across the midnight-blue sky, Austin pointed, silent, open-mouthed. Clay, without a word, reached up and took Austin’s hand so they were pointing together. And when Austin dropped his hand to his side, Clay did not let go, but held onto Austin’s hand. And they stayed that way, holding hands like young lovers newly met, filling Austin with bubbles of expectation, zipping energy in his belly.
“Hey,” said Clay, whisper-soft in his ear. “There’s one. Did you see it?”
“Yes,” said Austin, though the sight that filled his heart was the glimmer of light in Clay’s blue eyes, a reflection of starlight in a cloudless and clear dark sky.
Clay, perhaps sensing that Austin was looking at him with as much awe as he viewed a shooting star, turned his head, and ducked his chin so they were close, foreheads almost touching, mouths only inches apart.
The warm whisper of Clay’s breath drew him close till they were kissing like young lovers at a drive-in movie, completely forgetting why they’d come, the movie unwatched as their lips met and tendrils of energy moved between them. Kissing Mona had never been like this, sweet and kind, though behind that kindness stirred something more, more energy, a drive, a heartfelt swirling that he wanted to let swallow him whole.
“You okay?” asked Clay, drawing back, the words moving his lips against Austin’s lips. “You’re shivering all over. Ought to have bought that Carhartt jacket I sent you the link for.”
“I will,” said Austin in response, though the words meant nothing in light of the warmth they shared between them, covered from overhead by a dark, nighttime blanket.
“Green to match your eyes,” said Clay, planting a soft kiss on Austin’s nose, so tender, full of affection and playfulness that Austin wanted to weep for all the lost years, the wasted years.
Why had he stayed with Mona when he could have gone out into the world and found Clay? But the last ten years, at least, had been filled with a responsibility for Bea, the bright, energetic bundle that had been placed in his arms only moments after her birth.
He’d borne that responsibility gladly, and would continue to do so. And maybe he should be grateful that he had this between him and Clay. The way Clay held his hand and kissed him on the mouth, full and proper, taking Austin with him into a swirl of delight that tingled across his skin and raced down his spine and circled him with warmth and energy, Clay’s scent, the perfume of him all around like a balm, a tender blanket of love and acceptance.
Clay drew back, took a breath. “Wow,” he said low, a whisper like poetry. “Nobody ever kissed me the way you do.”
“Nobody ever—” Austin couldn’t finish what he meant to say, as it overwhelmed him to think of it, that nobody had ever made him feel the way Clay did.
Instead of speaking, he rolled toward Clay, and tugged on Clay’s bejeaned hip to get him to roll towards him.
While overhead the stars streamed across the sky, he kissed Clay and held him close and closed his eyes and made a wish, that this could last. That he could find this kind of happiness in the morning. That he could be together with Clay, fully, and love him every way possible.
“You okay?” asked Clay, and if his words trembled, there was nobody to know it but the two of them, curled together in the truck bed beneath a nighttime of shooting stars.
“Yes,” said Austin, kissing Clay once more. He wasn’t entirely okay, but he would be, if they could be together like this always.
21
