The kind one leans into the boy with secrets and the air bends around them, thick with something warm and sacred. They kiss. Right there in the kitchen like it means something.
I nearly stop singing, I’m so shocked.
This doesn’t look like sin, it looks like truth. Like they never have to hide anything from anyone. When their lips part, both of then smile. I see it. Desire, real and holy.
Exactly what I want.
I feel it, so far inside I almost miss it.
The first crack in everything I was ever told about sex.
Boys like them were beaten and sent away. Master Prophet preached how they were broken. Touched wrong. Possessed. Sinners who could infect the rest of us, like mold on bread.
But the way the two of them lit up? It didn’t look sinful. Didn’t look wrong. It looked like something I want but never thought I’d have.
I manage to keep singing, but my voice’s gone strange in my throat. I’m not jealous. I’m not sure what I am. Except maybe even more unsure of everything. What else did my people lie about?
After the set, I pack and get my money. I walk home fast before someone asks too many questions, keeping to the shadows with my hands in my sleeves to try to stay warm.
When I reach the shop, I climb the broken stairs past the plywood still nailed across the windows. I sleep with my stolen coat on. Breathe fog when I wake. Count the days since I ran.
Figure out how much more I need to save to get to Seattle. Or Portland. I’m too close to Idaho to feel safe.
As I fall asleep, I remember the way the boys looked at each other like their love wasn’t forbidden. They weren’t afraid to be judged for loving each other.
I’m still frightened beyond belief.
Of being found.
Moreso, what I might do if I stop hiding.
Tonight gave me something I didn’t expect.
Hope.
I’m not safe—
Maybe someday, I will be.
Until then, I need to unlearn everything I thought I knew.
twelve
Linus
Three Weeks Later
Liam’slegsarehookedover my shoulders.
His eyes are half-closed.
I focus on his gorgeous, thick cock. Watch it bounce on his belly as I thrust deep and unrelenting. Pre-come oozes out of his crown.
“Fuck, Linus.” His fingers curl around the edge of the mattress, knuckles white.
He’s close. I brace one hand beside his head and wrap the other around the base of his cock. “You’re takin’ it so good for me, love. So fuckin’ good.”
His hips lift to meet every push, greedy and desperate. We’re coated with lube. The wet sounds of us fill the room.
