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No, that was just too much to bear.
Their relationship was temporary. Luca knew that. He had no choice but to know that. The man might be sweet and affectionate and comfortable, but in just a few short weeks, Artair would wander off on his next adventure.
Without a phone.
Without a contact.
And without Luca.
And the only thing keeping him going was knowing that they still had what was left of the summer.
So please, just let me have that. Just give me that time before I lose you too.
And yet, for as long as Luca stayed silent, Artair just kept looking at him.
Ceding him the space.
Asking for his answer.
And so, eventually, he gave one.
“Because it’s real,” said Luca, his voice peaking. “Because most people live their lives thinking that anything they don’t understand is scary. That anyone they don’t understand is an enemy. And worse, there are so many people out there hiding who they really are—bottling it up tight and never letting it breathe. And all the while they’re screaming on the inside. Screaming for a single moment of truth. Screaming for one expression of actual emotion. Screaming for one solitary second of reality.”
Luca couldn’t stop himself now—damn the consequences.
If Artair wanted to know why he cared, this was it.
This was him.
Unfiltered.
Unedited.
“Out in the suburbs, a dad thinks the new twink intern is hot, and has no idea how to process that. Mom wants the pool boy, and six of his friends, to all take turns knocking a baby into her. Grandma loves the feeling of latex washing up gloves way more than anyone else. Grandad puts on a wig when the wife is out and has never felt more right. And none of them—not a single fucking one—talks about any of this. None of them sees this stuff in their papers or their cable news or anywhere. There are millions of people, living their lives, from cradle to grave, keeping all of these things hidden. They’ll deny themselves a lifetime of exploration and joy and discovery of their true desires, all because it isn’t normal to talk about these things. And worse, they’ll persecute other people—good people—because they’re so fucking terrified of the secrets inside themselves.”
Luca’s face was red now. A tear he couldn’t control fell down his cheek.
“And it’s wrong! And it’s hateful. And it’s repressive. And if I do nothing else in my life, I want to make it easier—just one tiny bit easier—to talk about any of this stuff. To help people not feel ashamed. To show that there are people out there who deserve to be respected. To tear down the fucking mainstream and rebuild it with something better!”
Luca didn’t meet Artair’s eye. He couldn’t. His chest was pumping hard, and it would be too painful to see his expression.
His pity.
His fear.
His confusion at why any of this shit mattered in the slight?—
The lips came hot against his own.
Luca met them. Gratefully. Greedily.
When Artair spoke, it from somewhere deeper than Luca had managed to explore. Artair’s cheeks were wet.
“You are so fucking amazing, Luca,” Artair whispered, before tackling him to the grass.
It wasn’t like any sex they’d had before.
There was no playfulness in their union—not because it wasn’t welcome, but because it wasn’t fitting. Because laughter and teasing and jokes might somehow minimize this moment.
