Hot Head

Loretta threw up her hands. “What is it about men on Thanksgiving. If you’re gonna be gay, couldn’t you at least like musicals or opera? Jesus.”

“Sorry.” Griff realized he’d just apologized for the hang of his testicles and felt like an idiot.

“Did you—” Dante sat up “—just call me sir?” An impish grin smeared across his face until he was beaming.
Griff sputtered, wanting to protest, then gave up. “I think I did.”
Dante’s erection jerked between them. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”
“You are a kinky son of a bitch, Anastagio.”
“You—” kiss “—have—” kiss “—no—” kiss “—idea.”

Dante rolled his head to meet his gaze and melted. Griff smiled, and Dante pressed a kiss under his jaw, whispering against the skin, “God. You make me so fucking happy I’m gonna split open.”

“Why?!”
Dante smacked him and scowled. “Because I love you!”
There it was, out in the air. Griff’s eyes got wide. The words had come out angry, but Dante had meant them. He couldn’t open his perfect mouth and swallow them back. His face softened, and he looked right at Griff so there was no mistake. “In love, I mean. With you. For so long.”
Griff smiled and couldn’t stop, even though he had to look down at his own lap to whisper, “Me too. I love you too. Like I thought I’d die from it.”
Dante smiled and stole a kiss. “Well, thank fuck for that.”

“Get back here.” Griff licked his lips and sighed, content for the first time in, well, ever.
Thank you, thank you, for every inch of him. For every minute.

“Dante, open your eyes. I’m right here. Look.”
Dante grunted, squirming closer.
Griff lifted an inch and spoke right into his mouth. “We should never be farther apart than this.”

For the first time in his life he understood why the Bible called sex “knowing.” Everything was different. Now he knew Dante. He’d known Dante. And wonder of wonders, Dante had known him right back. They couldn’t forget, only they didn’t know how to deal with the knowing. Yet.

people should not be punished for loving and hoping and holding their hearts open.

Griff raised his own beer, readier than he’d ever been in his entire life to laugh about nothing special with the only person who would always be special to him.