Page 53 of We Are Just Us

Kieran leaned against the counter, mug warming his hands. Rory sat at the small table, one leg folded under him, looking annoyingly composed for someone who’d just had morning sex and borrowed his neighbor’s T-shirt.

“So,” Kieran started, then stopped.

Rory waited, patient.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Kieran admitted. “The...morning-after conversation.”

“We could skip it,” Rory offered. “Pretend everything’s normal.”

“Is this normal?”

Rory smiled faintly. “I don’t know. Is it?”

Kieran set his mug down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are you...out? Like, publicly?”

Rory’s expression didn’t change, but his posture shifted, subtle, almost imperceptible. “Define publicly.”

“I mean do people know you sleep with men?”

Rory raised an eyebrow. “Do people know who you sleep with?”

Kieran’s jaw dropped. Then closed.

“Seems like a strange thing to broadcast,” Rory said. “I don’t really want to know who my friends are fucking. Do you?”

“Fair…point.”

“I sleep with people I’m attracted to,” Rory continued. “Sometimes they’re men. Sometimes they’re not. I don’t make announcements, but I don’t make apologies either.”

Kieran nodded slowly. “But not everyone knows.”

“No,” Rory said. “Not everyone. The people who matter do.”

“What does that mean?”

Rory leaned back in his chair, considering. “It means I won’t lie if someone asks, but no one does. I also don’t volunteer the information unless it’s relevant.”

“So you’re...what? Selectively out?”

“I guess,” Rory said, shrugging. “I don’t think about it in those terms. I just live my life. If people figure it out, cool. If they don’t, also cool.”

Kieran absorbed that, turning it over in his mind. It made sense, in a way. Rory wasn’t closeted—not in the traditional sense. But he also wasn’t waving a flag.

“And what about me?” Kieran asked.

Rory’s gaze sharpened. “What about you?”

“Where do I fit into your...selective disclosure policy?”

Rory stood, crossing the small space between them until he was close enough that Kieran could smell his shampoo.

“You,” Rory said, pressing his finger against Kieran’s chest, “are not a secret. If that’s what you’re asking.”

Kieran’s chest loosened. “Okay.”

“But I’m also not going to parade you around town like a trophy,” Rory continued. “I prefer medals anyway. And you sunburn too easily for a parade.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Kieran said quickly.