Several Days of You

He had to drag his feet on the way back to the car to make it look like he didn't want to go. He didn't want to go, but he had to make it look good. Good enough to hear that exasperated sigh, then the sound of someone scrambling to his feet and running. He grinned where his lover couldn't see his face, and relaxed just before his lover got close enough to tackle.

Bo caught himself as he stumbled forward, laughing despite his intention to keep the joke up. Or maybe laughing because he'd kept the joke up -- he didn't know, rightly, and if his lover asked him what he was up to all he'd be able to say was "I wanted you."

Wanted him to come with Bo, wanted him not to leave -- any of those things, maybe. Maybe something else. Bo felt, lots of times, that there was too much about this that he didn't understand. Things that other people, like his cousins and his uncle, would have understood easily.

But the fact they always seemed to understand things that he didn't wasn't that which made him feel apart from his family. It wasn't that which divided him from his family. He didn't know what it was, really, just that in those quiet times when he was alone and thinking, he knew he was different from them in ways that weren't the obvious ways.

He laughed again as he was spun around, losing his balance as his lover tried to hard to turn him, not expecting so much assistance. He grabbed onto his lover's arms, catching himself, threatening to bowl them both over into the side of the car.

"You--" his lover began, then stopped, shaking his head.

Bo laughed again.

Roscoe grinned back. "You have to go."

"I know," Bo told him. And he did. He moved forward just a little, and Roscoe met him, lips pressed in another hungry kiss. The one after that was softer, a lot like the one they'd used to say good-bye with, a minute ago. Before Bo had played around and teased Roscoe to come after him for one more.

Roscoe was looking at him, and Bo paused. This was a serious look, but he wasn't worried it would suddenly turn bad. Just serious, like one more kiss and they'd go on their way. Roscoe shook his head, like he was bewildered about something. All he said, though, was, "You look like sunshine, you know that?"

"I what?" Bo laughed again. "Because of my hair?" He'd been told his hair looked like a lot of things, from corn to spun gold to... well, the girls in high school got real poetic sometimes. He still didn't understand it. But he liked the way Roscoe said it, so he smiled back and Roscoe just laughed, and Bo kissed him.


Previous Story: Samhain