“Lucky that I died, then,” said Stanley, his mouth curling into a smile as though he wanted to make a joke of it. As Devon’s chest filled with a weight of something black and awful, Stanley’s eyes opened wide.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” said Stanley. “I mean Ididdie, but I don’t regret it, even though it was scary, because now I have you—don’t I? I have you and your metal laptop, which maybe you’ll let me use. I didn’t mean it like it sounded, but sometimes the words they just—you know? They get away from me.”
“As long as you don’t get away from me,” said Devon, and he meant it with everything he had. “I’m sorry you had to die—”
“Twice,” said Stanley, though there was a sparkle in his eyes as he said it, a true joke this time.
“Twice,” said Devon. He felt a rush of passion within him, as though he was being lifted from the inside into a place of happiness and light, but if only he could be together with Stanley. “And never again.”
“How do we stop time?” asked Stanley. “How do we keep it from taking me away again?”
Devon didn’t know the answer to this, although he had a feeling that the question would remain an open-ended one.
“What I do know is this,” said Devon. “We’ve been standing here for far too long, and you said yes to me before.”
“I did,” said Stanley. “I do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Devon turned off the lights in the living room, and the ones in the bedroom as well. He pulled Stanley to the bed and began to carefully undress him. He let the clothes fall where they might and held up his arms so that Stanley could undress him in return. It was a good thing he’d turned up the heat, though his skin shivered as Stanley ran his hands along Devon’s arms.
“You still have your underwear on,” said Stanley, announcing this rather like a seven-year-old who had no restraint on saying what he thought. “And I do too, so what are we going to do about it?”
“Let’s take them off,” said Devon, laughing beneath his breath in a way that felt new and sweet. “I’ll pull yours off if you’ll pull mine.”
He could see Stanley in the near dark, and traced the curve of his face with his eyes, put his hands on Stanley’s hips, and tugged. With quick, jerking motions amidst a tangle of arms and wrists, they pulled each other’s underwear off and then moved together in the dark. Their hips met and the long muscles of their thighs. Devon could feel the scratch of Stanley’s pubic hair, the curly wiriness of it. Their hard cocks trapped between their bellies. The quick breaths that lifted Stanley’s chest.
“You’re not afraid of me, Stanley?” asked Devon, wanting to besure, a tenderness rising in his throat; he would be willing to wait forever until Stanley wasn’t afraid.
“I’m not afraid of you,” said Stanley, kissing Devon’s throat. Devon lifted his chin to let him. “But some of the fellas talked about how when they came through Paris and they went with the whores—”
“Did you ever go, Stanley?” asked Devon, though he could barely speak for the feel of Stanley’s hands on his bare waist. “Did you ever go with one of those women?”
“I didn’t want them,” said Stanley. “What I’m trying to ask you is the fellas talked about taking a whore from behind so as not to get her, you know, in a family way. Are we going to do that, you and me?”
“Do you want to?” asked Devon. His face felt hot and his erection thumped against his belly, side by side with Stanley’s erection as they stood in the quiet darkness. He knew Stanley was waiting for direction, not because he was a good soldier, but because he was practically a virgin, and a lovingly delivered hand job on the couch wasn’t enough to make a difference.
“Do you want me to?” Devon asked now. “I’ll be gentle with you, so gentle, Stanley.”
“I know you will,” said Stanley. “But I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll show you,” said Devon. “Here, on the bed, like this.”
In the dark, Devon used his hands to guide Stanley to the bed, petting the length of his hip, his thigh, to gentle him and ease him into the moment. Beneath his fingertips, Stanley was shaking, only a little, but it was enough for Devon to take a moment when Stanley was on his belly to make long strokes along Stanley’s body, to kiss the back of his neck, to feel Stanley’s heartbeat from the pulse of blood beneath his skin.
“I’m going to take it slow, Stanley,” said Devon, his mouth whispering across Stanley’s cheek. “So slow, okay?”
“Okay,” said Stanley, and in his voice was a small, low quiver that pressed against Devon’s heart.
“Lay like this,” said Devon as he guided Stanley’s leg, brushing it over and over, as though soothing a wild young thing. It was better this way, rather than having Stanley on his knees, which might feelmore aggressive and certainly wasn’t what was wanted now. “I’m going to pet you and push my fingers inside of you, and get you ready.”
“And then we’ll fuck?” asked Stanley, his voice a little shaky, but full of brightness and the sweetness that Devon always saw shining in his eyes. “Like the fellas talked about with the whores?”
Devon laughed, pressing kisses across Stanley’s shoulders, running his fingers across Stanley’s shorn hair.
“Yes,” said Devon. “Like that, but only better because we love each other, you and I, and soldiers never love whores.”
Stanley turned in a sudden motion, twisting backwards so that he was looking up at Devon in the near dark. His eyes shone in the half light, bright sparks that drew Devon to him. He bent close and kissed Stanley, sensing that Stanley wanted to tell him something important.
