Michael is standing with Alex on his doorstep. They are at the end of what might be considered a date but neither one of them has dared utter that word. Two hours ago, Michael had texted Alex one simple line.
And then a picture of a casserole dish filled to the brim with lasagna – perfect cheese crusted corners. Alex’s favorite. Also, an apology. Maybe a bribe.
A few days ago, they had argued. Loudly and in public. Shouting words they had never meant to say to one another. Harsh sneers followed by frustrated tears. But everything finally out in the open. And in front of half the town, no less.
They never take the easy route. And they never will.
When the picture had popped up on his phone, Alex had almost deleted it. Instead, he’d set the display facedown and gone to take a quick shower. Hoping that by the end, the warm water would have coaxed Michael’s text from his memory.
So, he’d gotten redressed. Danced back and forth over his threshold. But eventually, climbed into his Explorer and driven to the junkyard. Michael sitting on his steps waiting.
And that smile. That perfect fucking melt-your-heart smile.
Alex knew he was in trouble.
They’d been nervous as they ate. Darting glances and accidental knee bumps. Small sideways smiles and sharp inhales. Anxious exhales. Some laughter – a few shared memories. And Michael asking to drive Alex home. Reminding him he was overdue for an oil change.
Michael was always ready with the perfectly placed lie. Alex’s oil changed only three weeks previous. A mutual grifting.
The ride home is quiet. Michael’s leg bouncing and Alex tapping his fingertips along to the radio. There’s a mile between them, but they both know that’s not going to last. Alex cracks a window to air out some of the tension. Michael rolls his shoulders, stretching out his stiff muscles.
The minutes tick by. The sun sets. The moon rises.
Michael is standing with Alex on his doorstep. They are at the end of the night and the beginning of what comes next. Alex shoves his hands into his pockets and focuses on the ristra hanging just over Michael’s shoulder. Neither one has said a word.
‘Uh, well, I guess this is goodnight.’ Alex licks at his lips and places his hand on the doorknob. ‘Thanks for dinner.’
‘Yeah. Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.’ He kicks at Alex’s doormat.
They lock eyes for a split second and then Michael turns away as Alex pushes his door open, disappearing inside.
Back in his truck, Michael grips the steering wheel tightly, listening to his heart beat against his ribs. He doesn’t want to end the night like this. For his part, Alex is slumped against his front door. Breathing deeply and trying to convince himself to go to bed. But he also doesn’t want the night to end like this.
That pull – that need – that want – that desire. That cosmic thing that connects their hearts with invisible string. The moon and stars and that nighttime abyss. They do not want the night to end like this.
Michael slides back out of his truck. Alex turns back towards the door. Michael raises his hand to knock. But Alex beats him to it. And now they are face-to-face again.
And the night ends like this.
They stare at each other for a beat. And then Michael steps forward and Alex opens his arms. Their mouths find each other after such a long time, and it is exactly like coming home. Alex’s hands find salvation in Michael’s curls. And Michael considers dropping to his knees in absolution.
The night ends like that but the morning begins like this.
Lazy kisses as the sun slants through the window. Muttered I love yous as hands caress the softest places missed most. Tangled thighs reuniting after a tiresome, overlong journey. That mile between not fully traversed. Not yet. But it will be. Because they have all the time in the world.
Their past at an end. And their future just now beginning.
