“God, yes.Please.”
He chuckled. “Alright. I, uh, think I have enough for my portrait now. Thanks for talking with me. You going to keep thinking about my forearms?”
“I want to think about more than just that. Does that bother you?”
“No. I’m going to draw your hands. Sweet dreams.”
He ended the call, imagining Micah’s lips against his fingertips. Micah on top of him on that blanket in the graveyard, kissing the wine out of his mouth. His tongue slipping across Cosmo’s, glasses fogging with the heat of their quickened breath.
Micah would slide his palms across Cosmo’s and pin him to the ground. His always-a-bit-disheveled hair would fall into his eyes as he kissed the tender flesh of Cosmo’s throat, sucking it until it bruised…
Oh, but the heavy clouds above them were swollen and gray, and as rain dotted Cosmo’s face and lightning needled the sky, they’d rush to the nearby mausoleum for cover. Rain would pour through holes in the roof, bitter wind and dead leaves swirling inside. A pristine casket would sit inside the dim room, mahogany wood with a cherry red finish and brass handles.
He would open the casket and climb inside. Micah would join him and shut the lid. The heat of their bodies and warmth of breath would turn the confined space stuffy, and they were wearing far too much clothing. Gone, then, nothing between Cosmo’s bare skin and Micah’s.
As Cosmo slid off his underwear to indulge further into the fantasy, the phone jingled with a notification. He smiled. Hopefully it was an in-progress shot of Micah’s art.
The text was from an unknown number, and cold dread sank into his stomach as he opened it.
13
THIS USED TO BE THE FUTURE
Micah - Present Day
The phone sat on the drafting table and Micah stood before it, legs wide and fingers twitching like a gunslinger ready to make his draw. He was going to ask Cosmo to come over, and this time, he was going to let him inside. They were going to sit on the brand new couch Micah had used his emergency credit card to buy, and Micah was going to kiss him.
After they’d ended their call the night before, he’d set aside his full-body sketch of Cosmo in lieu of drawing his hands in detail. For more accuracy, he’d pulled up Cosmo’s Flashbulb profile and studied some of the pictures. As he’d drawn each crease of his fingers, each white moon on his nails and the highlight on the garnet cabochon of his ring, he’d thought about what Cosmo was most certainly doing at that moment.
Navigating potential new relationships was always tricky. Micah would bring up that he was trans before anything got too serious, and people usually understood. That was a concrete concept they could grasp. But broaching his asexuality often resulted in assumptions and offensive questions that he was tired of hearing.
It had been a relief to learn that neither his identity nor sexuality were a dealbreaker for Cosmo. Micah had a sexdrive, and sometimes he’d see a magazine ad of a man in nylons and high heels, or a woman who stared at the viewer like she wanted to step on their face, and he’d feel a tingle of something. But he was pretty sure it was more the concept that interested him than the person’s body. It was frustrating that he didn’t understand himself as well as he wished.
But oh, how he hoped that when he kissed Cosmo, it would feel more than just wet.
Snatching the phone, he typed:
He hit send, but was immediately met withMessage Delivery – Failed.Hmm. Cosmo must have used up his monthly allowance of emojis and been punished for it.
That was okay, Micah was eager to hear his voice again. He dialed his number, and a piercing three-note tone entered his ear, followed by, “We’re sorry, but the number can’t be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try again.”
A bolt of anxiety jabbed Micah’s heart. Had Cosmo blocked his number? That didn’t make sense. Their conversation last night had been… Well, it had beensomething, and specifically a something that they’d both enjoyed, even if it was for different reasons.
Micah could go to Cosmo’s apartment, but he didn’t want to show up unannounced or go anywhere that Cosmo’s ex might see him.
His Flashbulb app was still on Cosmo’s profile. He navigated to the message box and wrote:
Almost immediately, Cosmo responded:
How was that possible? The chances of him seeing Cosmo and Micah together at the cemetery or that French bistro seemed slim. It could have been at the gallery or Micah’s apartment, though. Micah had come to the gallery with flowers, and Cosmo had accepted them.
This was bullshit. He was not going to let some jealous douchebag get in the way.
Micah typed.
