Page 59 of Our Own Light

“I’ve never experienced this before,” Oliver said. “I know you probably have, but Floyd, it’s so special to me.”

“It’s special to me, too, Ollie.”

“Will you come by after work tomorrow?”

Floyd’s hand briefly brushed Oliver’s cheek before he lifted it to thread his fingers through Oliver’s hair again.

“I’ll come by every day if you want.”

“Yes, I want that.”

Oliver shut his eyes and let himself become lost in Floyd’s soft touches. Each minute felt like an eternity. In the very best possible way.

“Ollie?” Floyd asked.

“Mmm?”

“Why were you so sad before?”

“Oh...” Oliver opened one eye to see Floyd looking at him with so much sweetness that he couldn’t not be honest with him. “I was thinking about how horrible it is that no one would ever accept us. Outside of Effie, I mean, which is really saying something.”

Floyd’s face twisted up like he was struggling with some sudden rush of upset from the comment, but then, in seconds, his brows relaxed and his frown lifted like he had managed to force that bit of fury away.

“Dang, it’s been a while since I thought ’bout them kinds of things,” Floyd said. “What you said about us not being accepted, it’s true. How the world is, well, it’s harder for people like us.”

“How do you make yourself... feel at peace with it?”

“I been living with it for a long time. It bothered me more when I was a kid. Sometimes, it bothers me now, but not a lot.”

“Wow, I... I can’t even imagine trying to understand all of this as a kid. I mean, when I was a kid, I thought I was, well, I thought I was strange, but I was strange in all sorts of ways, so this was just one more thing to add to the pile of eccentricities, you know? Besides, I thought I’d eventually figure it out, but then, by the time I realized that I probably never would, I was an adult, one who was too busy hating his predestined future to worry too much about whether or not he’d ever kiss someone.” Oliver reached for Floyd’s free hand and squeezed it. “Sorry. We were talking about you. Was it hard for you, then, when you were younger?”

“It was,” Floyd confirmed. “I had Effie, though, and...”

“And what?”

Floyd was silent for a few seconds. His eyes became misty again. Finally, he choked out, “I had my friend, too.”

Probably whoever Floyd had kissed. Oliver wanted to pry. God, how he wanted to know more about this mysterious man who Floyd had kissed, but with the way Floyd was clamming up, Oliver knew that he wasn’t ready to talk about it. He wondered if Floyd would ever be ready. He really hoped so.

“I’m sorry, Floyd,” Oliver said. “For... whatever happened.”

He kneaded Floyd’s hand, hoping that his touches could soothe some of Floyd’s pain. Floyd took a couple of breaths.

“Thanks, Ollie,” Floyd whispered.

“Of course.” Oliver continued to massage Floyd’s hand for a bit before saying, “Did your parents know?”

“I confessed to them when I was eighteen,” Floyd confirmed. “After that, they sent me to live in the boarding house.”

Holy hell, it pained Oliver so much to hear how Floyd’s parents had treated him. Floyd was such a sweet man, one who deserved so, so much better.

While Oliver tried not to be so upset with what Floyd had told him, Floyd continued to stroke his hair, which was so Goddamn nice, but a little infuriating, too. Why was Floyd comforting him through this? It wasn’t right. Oliver should have been the one comforting Floyd. He had to fix it.

Over the next few moments, he racked his brain for ideas. Jeez, the only thing he could think of to try to help Floyd feel better was to try to make him laugh.

Oliver said, “Actually, that was kind of silly of them, wasn’t it?”

“Silly?”