* * * *
Back at Alex’s apartment, Jamie sat on the floor in
the living room, a paper plate overflowing with lo mein and rice
juggled precariously in one hand as he shoveled food into his mouth
with the other. He sat back against the couch, gaze riveted to the
TV screen where Alex had turned on the latest Star Warsfilm
because Jamie told him he hadn’t seen it yet.
Alex sat on the couch beside him, watching Jamie watch TV and
wondering what it would feel like to touch the smooth skin along
Jamie’s neck, just below where his curls stopped. At some point
before dinner, he’d discarded the mesh T-shirt, and his tank top
hung low along his neck, exposing more skin that Alex ached to
touch. What if I just reached out and ran my thumb along the
back of his neck?he wondered as he ate. Just a little
touch. I could say I was brushing away a piece of lint, fuzz, a
hair, and then I’d know if he’s really as soft as he looks. And
warm, and smooth, and—
Stop it.