Page 35 of Keep

“I noticed. I liked it.”

“I don’t think Shelby ever liked the—she always went straight for the mouthwash.”

“I’m not Shelby.” Something in Chad’s voice—not sharp, but definite. A line drawn.

“No. You’re not. I’m sorry.”

“And for the record, I love the way you taste.”

“What’s it taste like?”

“Come here and find out.”

Chad crawled back into his lap, and Hank cradled him—this lean, warm weight against his bare skin—and they kissed. Hank tasted himself on Chad’s tongue and was surprised to find it sweet. Not cloying.

“Wow,” he said. “I taste pretty good.”

“You do.”

Hank held Chad against him—clothed torso against bare chest—and felt his breathing slow for the first time in what might have been hours.

“And now that you’ve robbed me of my virginity—” he began.

“Oh, that was just the opening act.” Chad stood, pulling Hank to his feet. “Where’s the bedroom?”

“Down the hall.” Hank pointed, then realized he was pointing while naked and recently undone. He dropped his hand. “I’m pointing while naked. I apologize.”

“Don’t.”

“Do you—I have—there are supplies.” Supplies. He’d said supplies, as if they were preparing for a weather event. “Condoms and... lubricant. In the bedroom.”

Chad’s eyebrows rose. Delightedly. “You went shopping?”

“I may have. Anticipated.”

“This I have to see.”

Hank made a quick detour to the bathroom. Splashed water on his face. Gripped the sink. Stared at his reflection—flushed, sweating, beard damp—and thought: This is who you are now. Try to act like you deserve it.

When he entered the bedroom, Chad had already removed his shoes and socks and t-shirt. He was working on his belt buckle when he looked up.

“Hey,” Hank said. “What if I wanted to undress you myself?”

Chad’s smirk suggested this was charming but impractical. “Want me to put them back on?”

“Absolutely not.”

Hank crossed to him and kissed him, hands finding the sparse blond hair on Chad’s chest. He’d been wanting to touch it all night—had caught glimpses at the bar, at the gallery, every time Chad’s collar shifted. And there, on Chad’s left shoulder: the tribal tattoo. Hank traced its edges with his thumb. He’d seen it peeking from under sleeves. Now it was fully his to look at.

“You’re beautiful,” Hank said, and then was embarrassed by how plainly he’d said it. “It’s just difficult to process that someone who looks like you would be attracted to someone who⁠—”

“Stop.” Chad kissed him. An interruption and an answer. “You tipped thirty percent and looked at my face. That’s a low bar, but here we are.”

“And I paraphrase Shakespeare while standing around naked.”

“Burly and naked.” Chad ran his hands down Hank’s sides. “I stand by burly.”

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,” Hank offered, because apparently his brain’s emergency response to vulnerability was to quote Romeo and Juliet.