“I love you, Carl,” he whispered.
Hearing this Carl began to sob. The desire for the complete connection, of utter surrender and closeness he used to have with Armand, the man who was right next to him, made his heart ache with the pain of love. He just let the tears flow.
Again hesitantly, Armand rolled onto his side, facing Carl. Then he put his arm around him and hugged him—and then he too began to cry.
“Don’t ever do that again, Carl,” he whispered. “Six days—it felt like an eternity.”
A convoluted tightness began to build in Carl in spite of himself.
“You seemed pretty busy,” he said, his voice strangled, “when I saw you last.”
“Hush!” Armand put a hand over Carl’s mouth, which Carl half-playfully tried to bite. They were silent for perhaps half a minute. “I just spread things around,” Armand said. “It’s the pirate way, you know. No rules.”
“You don’t believe in monogamy,” Carl said quietly, accusingly. He felt Armand’s shrugging response to this, then heard him sigh.