Page 54 of Big Britches
“Yeah, I know.”
“Why are people so goddamn mean? Why should the color of a person’s skin even come into question, or who they sleep with for that matter?”
“It’s an age-old question, T. One I suspect will never be answered.”
“It’s not fair.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“If I could turn this town into a haven for the underdogs of the world, I would–Black, white, straight, gay, Mexican, Asian… whatever.”
“That sounds more like Atlanta.”
“Yeah? Well, it shouldn’t have to be. Diversity’s what makes our country great. It should extend to small towns as well.”
“You’ll get no argument from me–” Barb said, voice lilting, “–but how on earth would we ever begin making such changes?”
“Well, first we–wait a minute. I see what you’re doing here.”
“Who, me? I’m not doing anything. Just listening.”
Twelve
“Move in with us.”
They were spooning in bed, Titus on the outside, Pedro snug in his arms. Pedro had often wondered if sleeping soundly this way, so entwined, was possible. Over the past two months, he’d discovered it not only possible but that it aided his sleep. Nights away from Titus, in his lonely room at the Hawthorne House, sleep was much more difficult. He wondered if Titus was experiencing the same.
“Mm. What time is it?” he asked.
“Four-thirty.”
Pedro groaned. “Why are you up? We have at least an hour and a half.”
“I don’t want to sleep,” Titus whispered warmly in his ear. “When you’re here, I don’t want to miss any of it. I can sleep later.”
“Do you not sleep well when I’m here?”
“I didn’t say I can’t sleep. I said I don’t wanna.”
Titus’s thick arms constricted, squeezing Pedro tighter. He felt the smoothness of Titus’s chest pressed to his back, the warmth of his groin against his bottom, the scruff of his chin on his shoulder. His smell and his heat enveloping, swaddling, lulling Pedro back toward slumber’s grasp.
“Did you hear me? I want you to move in with us.”
Pedro’s eyes fluttered open again. The moon was bright outside, shimmering through the sheers of Titus’s bedroom window. He felt Titus’s cock swelling, snaking naturally into the crevice of his ass and nestling there like a bratwurst in a bun. The lure of sleep had been tempting, but Titus’s pull was far stronger.
“I heard you,” Pedro answered. “I’m just–I’m not sure.”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything. I don’t want to be in this bed again without you.”
“From what I’m feeling down there right now, it’s less about me moving in with you and more about you moving into me.”
“Mm.” Titus grunted, crushing their body’s tighter, grinding his pelvis forward. “Always. But right now, I just want to hold you. Pretend you’re not gonna to get up and leave me in two hours and that I won’t see you again until tomorrow night. I just want to hold you and keep you here forever.”
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Maybe. I don’t care. Be happily ever after with me, P.”
“Like in a fairy tale?”