“I’m not sure about anything right now.”The honesty in that makes me ache.And there it is. Gay sex Something raw. A heartbeat. His hands are light, deliberate, his movements slower than mine, lingering just a little too long over my shoulders, my hips.And he, unlike me, also dries my soft cock.We dress in silence. That final surrender.I close my eyes.And for the first time in years, I feel a little less haunted by the ghost of Marcus.I get to the coffee shop earlier than usual the next morning.Not on purpose, I tell myself – but maybe it is. And maybe – for this moment – that’s enough.The silence stretches between us – soft, not awkward. A promise, maybe. My reflection in the window startles me. I think I’m starting to.”“I wasn’t just a secret with Marcus. She says it can’t be healthy to look at naked men all day.”“Which painting is it?” I ask, pushing past the flicker of discomfort to follow the thread.“The Adam and Steve one,” he says, grinning. I was looking for my Adam.”He goes quiet. I’m kind of glad I am.”I raise an eyebrow.
