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“This should give us about twenty minutes. I’ll stay awake and will attempt to keep it burning.”
I reach for my phone, and it’s only six a.m.
“I can’t go back to sleep, Xan. This is sleeping in for me. But I don’t want to get out of this heat.” He opens the blankets for me, and I slide next to him and scoot closer to his body. “Man, your body brings the warmth. Who knew I’d ever think of you as someone who could heat me up?”
I about choke on air because part of me wants to heat up more of him than just the little bit of warmth my body emits.
“Fuck, that came out wrong. Don’t hold it against me.” He chuckles. “So, what do you want to do since we’re both awake?”
Rubbing one off would be an inappropriate response, and I stay quiet.
“Not sure, Farmer. What about you?” I ask.
“I spy, maybe?” he answers.
“What the hell do we look like? Fourth graders?”
“Um, okay, Mr. Grumpy Pants. How about twenty questions? You go first,” he demands.
Again, we’ve moved up a few grades, but this still seems juvenile. “Fuck, Farmer, what’s next? Truth or Dare?” I ask, a familiar tease accompanying the flirt. It’s how I used to tease and flirt with David and only David.
“God, I hope not. Knowing you, I’d be outside in my boxers for thirty minutes.” Clark takes a second to adjust, rolling over toward me, and his face is so close to mine. I could kiss him. Fuck, just because my dick has forgotten he’s my mortal enemy doesn’t mean I have.
“I would only make you stay out there for ten minutes, and I’d give you my scarf.” A smile slowly appears on his face. And it’s fucking handsome.
“Okay, so I guess we’ll stick to twenty questions—the adult version concerning things about us—with three, we can refuse to answer,” I add because the guy will be invasive, I’m sure. “And what happens here stays here. And no one needs to know we’re using the other to stay warm, got it, Farmer?”
“Your secret is safe with me, Xan.”
He doesn’t make secret plural, and I need clarification. “Secret, just one?”
“Well, I mean, all of them, but the biggest secret of them all.”
I cock my head to the side and examine his gaze. It’s different. “And what is said secret, Farmer?”
“That you’re not always an asshole and can be a pretty decent man, but don’t worry, we can go back to hating one another as soon as we’re rescued.”
I wonder to myself. In the past twenty-four hours, it’s as if twenty years of bad blood have been erased. Is that possible?
“And you’re not such a cocky prick yourself, I’d say, Farmer.”
His wink gets me again, and my cock pulses next to him. Oh, fuck, can he feel it?
“Okay, I’ll go first,” he announces. “Have you always known you were gay?” Clark asks.
“You’re going for the whammy right away, right?” He swings his head lazily up and down without hesitation.
“I thought I’d get the most evasive questions out of the way first. Now, will you pass, or will you answer?”
It’s an easy question because I’m an open book about my sexuality. “I knew early on that I didn’t see girls in the same light as boys. But by thirteen, when everyone had first girlfriends, I’d kissed Logan Finley in the broom closet. And from there, I knew I was gay. Just not bi but all the way gay.” I pause, and his face is blank of expression.
“Logan Finley, like one of the other wide receivers on our high school team, and went on to win the Heisman?”
“That’s another question, asshole. But yes. He’s actually out and proud. He lives with his husband and they adopted a little girl last year. We’re on social media together. It’s one reason he never went on to the pros. He felt his life as an out and proud gay man was more important than playing pro ball. Ten years ago, there were no gay men out of the closet in most sports.”
“Man,” Clark begins. “That sucks. I never thought of it in that way. Someone may be unable to live their dream because of who they love?”
I examine his expression again and there’s a sadness that overcomes him.
