Chapter Sixteen, Part I

Still Valid

Not urgently. Not even properly at first. Jack’s mouth moves against his in slow, lingering touches, as though he has been awake for some time and has finally given up trying not to disturb him.

Adrian opens his eyes.

Jack is close enough that there is no room for the morning between them.

“Good morning,” Adrian murmurs.

Jack kisses him again.

“That was not a good morning.”

“No?”

“It was barely a sentence.”

“I understood it.”

Jack’s hand moves around the back of Adrian’s neck, drawing him closer.

The next kiss is deeper.

The hunger is still there, but without the impatience of the night before. Jack simply kisses him as though he wants to remember exactly how Adrian’s mouth feels.

Adrian’s hand settles against his chest. Jack’s heartbeat is already faster than it should be this early. Their bare legs are tangled beneath the sheet, their bodies responding to each other, but neither man reaches for more.

Each time the kiss seems to end, Jack catches his mouth again.

“You appear to have recovered,” Adrian says when Jack finally lets him breathe.

“Physically.”

Adrian raises an eyebrow.

Jack’s fingers move slowly over the back of his head.

“The rest of me may be permanently damaged.”

“That sounds serious.”

“It is.”

Jack’s eyes move over his face. There is humour in them, but something less protected beneath it.

“I’m still thinking about last night,” Jack says.

“So am I.”

“You know which part I mean.”

“I have several possibilities.”

Jack gives him a look.

Adrian’s mouth curves. “Yes. I know.”

Jack looks towards the pale light beginning to show around the curtains.

“No one has ever done anything like that with me.”

Adrian studies him.

“You told me.”

“I know.”

Jack’s hand remains behind Adrian’s neck, but his grip loosens.

“It wasn’t just that it was hot,” he says. “It was. Jesus Christ, it was. I’m probably going to think about it at extremely inconvenient times for the rest of my life.”

“That sounds like your problem.”

“It is definitely your fault.”

Adrian waits.

“But it wasn’t only that.”

The humour has gone from Jack’s face now.

Adrian touches the rough edge of his beard.

“What was it?”

Jack takes a breath.

“When you did that—when you kissed me and let me taste myself—there wasn’t any hesitation in you. You didn’t make it into something dirty afterwards. You didn’t look at me like we’d crossed some line we weren’t supposed to cross.”

“We had crossed several lines by then.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes.”

Jack’s eyes shift away.

“I’m used to sex being sex,” he says. “Good sex. Sometimes great sex. I’m not saying I’ve spent my life in a monastery.”

“That would be difficult to believe.”

“But there have always been parts people keep separate. Things you do, things you don’t do. Things you don’t look at too closely afterwards.”

Adrian’s fingers move slowly along his jaw.

Jack swallows.

“You made it feel like there was nothing about me you needed to keep separate.”

Jack blinks and turns his face slightly towards the pillow, but not before Adrian sees the sudden brightness in his eyes.

It is small. Almost nothing.

It affects Adrian more than tears would have.

He moves closer until their bodies are pressed fully together.

“There was nothing about you I didn’t want,” he says.

Jack closes his eyes.

For a moment, neither of them speaks.

Then Jack pulls Adrian into him and kisses him with enough force to take the breath from both of them.

Adrian responds immediately. Jack’s hand grips the back of his neck while Adrian holds his face between both palms, the last trace of sleep disappearing beneath the need to get closer.

Jack rolls partly over him. Adrian’s arms move around his back, holding him there. The weight is warm and solid, Jack’s chest against his, Jack’s thigh caught between his legs.

“We have to get up,” Adrian says against Jack’s mouth.

“I know.”

Jack kisses him again.

“We have a long drive.”

“I know.”

Another kiss.

“We have to leave the cottage in a reasonable condition.”

“That sounds optional.”

“It is not optional.”

Jack’s mouth moves along Adrian’s jaw.

“We could pay a fine.”

“I am not paying a cleaning fee because you refuse to leave the bed.”

“I’ll pay it.”

“That is not the point.”

Jack lifts his head.

“What is the point?”

Adrian looks at him.

For one suspended moment, neither of them pretends not to understand.

“The point,” Adrian says, “is that if you kiss me again, we may still be here this afternoon.”

Jack’s eyes darken.

“That doesn’t sound like a threat.”

“No.”

Adrian runs his hand slowly down the centre of Jack’s back.

“It is the problem.”

Jack lowers his head until their foreheads touch.

“I don’t want to let go yet.”

The honesty in it leaves Adrian without an easy answer.

He tightens both arms around him.

“Then don’t,” he says.

They remain that way for several more minutes.

Not sleeping. Not speaking.

Simply holding on until the light in the room becomes too clear to ignore.

Eventually, Jack pushes himself up.

“This is terrible,” he says.

“What is?”

“Being responsible.”

“You will recover.”

“I’m not convinced.”

Jack gets out of bed.

Adrian watches him cross the room naked, then follows him into the bathroom.

They shower together, but the urgency from the bed does not follow them. Jack washes Adrian’s back. Adrian runs shampoo through Jack’s hair. They stand close beneath the water, kissing occasionally.

At one point, Jack rests his forehead against Adrian’s shoulder.

Adrian presses his mouth into the damp hair above his temple.

They dress slowly.

Adrian puts on Jack’s shirt again.

Jack notices.

“You have your own clothes.”

“I know.”

“You packed them.”

“I know.”

“That is my shirt.”

Adrian begins fastening the buttons. “You are very observant this morning.”

Jack catches the front of it before Adrian can finish.

“Are you stealing it?”

“I prefer borrowing.”

“For how long?”

Adrian meets his eyes.

“I haven’t decided.”

Jack’s fingers remain closed around the fabric.

“Good.”

They make coffee and finish what remains of the bread and cheese. The cottage looks different with their bags standing by the door. Smaller somehow. Less like a place they are living and more like somewhere they have already begun to leave.

Jack carries the bags to the truck while Adrian checks the bedroom and bathroom. Adrian finds the small brass whale on the kitchen counter. For several seconds, he considers leaving it behind. Then he puts it in his bag.

Jack is waiting beside the truck when Adrian comes outside.

“You took the whale.”

“I did not want the next guests to suffer.”

“Very thoughtful.”

Adrian locks the cottage and returns the key to the small box beside the door.

The morning is bright and almost windless. Nothing about the coastline acknowledges that they are leaving it.

Jack reaches for Adrian’s hand.

They stand for a moment, looking at the cottage, the deck and the line of ocean beyond it.

“That was some weekend,” Jack says.

Adrian turns to him.

“Yes,” he says. “It was.”

Jack tightens his hand around Adrian’s.

“I’m not ready for it to be over.”

“Neither am I.”