Oscar’s hands weren’t so clammy anymore as he cupped Aaron’s face, thumbs brushing his cheeks, fingers sliding into the short hair at the back of his head. Their lips met, and it was strawberries in the spring, slush in the summer, hot chocolate in the autumn. Oscar kissed Aaron, and winter ceased to exist. His lips cushioned every blow Oscar had taken to his self-esteem, his eagerness chiseling away at every biting comment Oscar had ever received.
Aaron obliterated every ugly thing.
His lips parted, the coffee from the shop warming his breath as his tongue slipped between Oscar’s teeth. A soft whimper of a moan passed through Oscar, entered Aaron,lived in his body, an echo in a temple chamber, flickering a flame they had been stoking for weeks.
Oscar fell to the couch with a thud and Aaron landed atop him, the flat planes of his stomach pressing into the soft cushioning of Oscar’s, shirts rubbing against each other, the shiny fabric of Oscar’s gym pants swishing against the thick, rough cargo pants stretching around Aaron’s thighs.
His knitter’s fingers found the snags in Oscar’s hair and knotted inside them, exploring the curve of his neck, smoothing the tension in his back, climbing beneath his shirt and finding his warm skin, sliding through the folds of Oscar’s side.
To kiss him was to live, and Oscar felt immortal.
They flipped, and Oscar pulled away, looking down through short wavy strands that framed his face at a man he’d met once in a clinic, glasses on his nose askew, lips red and ripe from kissing, cheeks flushed.
“Aaron…I…” Oscar swallowed, courage dwindling a little as Aaron’s eyebrows rose, the air between them cooling as Aaron gasped in all the warmth. Maybe he wasn’t ready for it yet, maybe Oscar would scare him away.
Oscar didn’t want that.
He dove in, kissing him again, tasting him, taking the soft moans and gentle whimpers as confirmation that maybe Aaron felt the same, and if he didn’t, then he could.
They lay there kissing until Oscar’s mouth ached, until his lips felt almost numb, until he was inclined to stretch them back over his teeth, confirming he still had lips at all. He sat back on his heels, tilting his head to the side, eyeing Aaron and his disheveled hair.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Oscar murmured.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the clinic,” Aaron replied. His lips curved to the side.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have ghosted me to beginwith.” Oscar narrowed his eyes. He’d never brought it up, and now Aaron looked surprised, as though he didn’t fully understand. “You know…not getting my number from reception and then realizing only weeks later that you should have?” He cocked an eyebrow.
Aaron leaned back, gasping, pressing a hand to his chest as though he were appalled by the insinuation.
“Sir!” Aaron gaped at him. “No, you didnot!”
“I did notwhat?” Oscar asked. Aaron scrambled to sit on his heels, mirroring him, hands flailing about, shaking his head and muttering to himself. “Aaron?”
“You didnotfully date me for weeks thinking I’ddosomething like that!Oscar!”
Date Date Date
“Oh, wow, Oscar. Must be inbigtrouble.” Oscar scratched his head. “I mean, didn’t you?”
“Spikey,” Aaron groaned in exasperation. “We agreed you’d ask formynumber! I waited for you to text or call forweeks, and then I got to stalking because I knew there was no universe in which I had imagined our chemistry, that I couldn’t simply have made it all up in my head.”
“Sorry, what?” Something dropped in Oscar’s stomach, heavy as a rock. He thought back to the clinic, to those hazy moments before he’d been taken to the table. He remembered everything so well, so clearly, even if the rest was unclear. Even if it was a blur, Aaron wasn’t.
But maybe Oscar had been too lost in those blue eyes to make sense of anything remotely useful, like how they’d get in touch.
“Yeah, I thought you’d write me off forever if I just reached out, but I had to. I thought…I thought it would be tragic if I didn’t even fight for it, for the thing I had wanted for so long. I figured the worst that could happen was more ghosting, but I knew that couldn’t be it. I never got the courage to ask about it, but when we started talking, Iknewsomething else must have happened. I’m so glad I tried, that I risked it.” Aaron reached for him now, tugging on a strand of Oscar’s hair. “Not knowing you would have been…I’m glad I didn’t listen to my fears.”
“Yeah,” Oscar replied, leaning into his touch, turning his cheek into the palm of his hand. “I’m glad you didn’t listen to your fears, too.”
A moment later they were kissing again.
And for all the moments after that.
11
[GRAND]MOTHER KNOWS BEST
Grandma Peters lived in the kind of house Oscar had dreamed of having as a child. It stood on a winding street with pretty homes on either side, walled-in front gardens and brick sidewalks on which Oscar remembered playing with his sister and the neighbors’ grandchildren.
