It’s nearly dark. My brain is trying to work to understand all of the day’s developments. I’m struggling to untangle the knot of my emotions, too. But through it all, there’s a pleasant, post-orgasmic hum, soothing the raw edges of my nerves.
Beside each other, Elliot and I drink creek water beneath a darkening sky, and it feels good to have him there.
“There are real world considerations,” I add. “Complications that we should discuss.”
“Sure,” Elliot says. He leans forward, a glint in his eyes. “But the real world is pretty distant. I think we can keep it easy.”
“Easy,” I repeat.
“We can just have fun,” he says brightly. “Because everything is hell, and we might die.”
I smile. “It does seem simple when you say it that way.”
Elliot leans forward and surprises me by brushing a soft kiss over my lips.
“Take your time, Hank,” he says softly. “I get that you’re a deliberate guy. And for now, let’s just get back to our cliff.”
Elliot stands and offers me his hand, and when I take it, he pulls me up. We’re both naked, damp, and carrying our wet clothes.
“If the wood in the shelter dries off,” I remind him, “we can still have clams tonight.”
We keep holding hands. “Cool,” he says, and we take off down the path toward home, side by side and wobbling on our unsteady feet the whole way.
