Page 101 of Our Own Light

Oliver could tell by the look on Floyd’s face how much that meant to him. After one more brush through Oliver’s hair, Floyd hooked his hand around the back of Oliver’s neck and pulled him in for a soft kiss on the lips—an unspoken “thank you.”

Maybe a few weeks ago, Oliver would have left it at that. His insecurities would have prevented him from wanting to really follow through with that promise, especially if it involved talking about the person he had come to think of as a bit of an adversary. But Oliver had overcome much of that. After all, Floyd had spent the last half hour trying very hard to impress upon Oliver just how much he cared for him. Now it was Oliver’s turn to show Floyd the same.

“Sweetheart,” Oliver began, his heart beating faster in his chest, feeling both excited and scared to have Floyd talk about the love that he had lost, “can you tell me about him?”

Floyd sat up on his elbow. “Really?”

“Yes,” Oliver said. “Please.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything. All I know so far is that he liked to collect pocket watches and stamps and coins. Oh, and that he was a miner.”

Oliver watched Floyd’s hand come up to stroke his chin, which was such a fucking lovable habit of his. Oliver knew it meant that Floyd was being thoughtful about his response.

Floyd eventually said, “He was shy. Quiet.”

“Quieter than you, even?”

“Yeah,” Floyd said with a snort. “Hard to believe, huh?”

“Nah, you’re not so quiet. Only compared to me, maybe.”

“Matt was blunt, too.”

“Wow, if you’re calling him blunt—”

“I know.” Floyd was chuckling now, which made Oliver feel so happy. God, he loved hearing Floyd be so open about Matt like this. “Hm, what else can I tell you?” Floyd ran a hand over his face and hummed. “He had this real coarse hair. Copper color.” Suddenly, Floyd had a strange look about him, like he had only just realized something important. “Copper color. Jeez.” He started to laugh.

It was making Oliver smile even more. “What?”

“Ah, I can’t tell you.”

“Come on, yes, you can.”

“Don’t laugh.”

“Well, that I can’t promise, especially now that you’ve told me not to!” Oliver started chuckling. “See?”

“Well, when I met you, I kept...” Floyd snorted. “I kept having this stomachache whenever I was with you. I think it was because I was feeling bad about liking you. Whenever it happened, I would...” Floyd pointed a finger at him. “Don’t laugh.”

“Alright, alright, tell me.”

“I’d imagine that there was a snake in my stomach, like a copperhead.”

“Gross,” Oliver said, laughing a little.

“It’s real hard not to shove you right now,” Floyd warned, though from the way his whole face was lit up with happiness, it was clear that he was having fun. “Anyway, I think I pictured a copperhead because of Matt. You know, his copper-colored hair. Like Matt was mad about me liking you.”

Oliver wrinkled his nose. “Well, that’s a little sad. I feel bad if Matt is up there in heaven hating me for being with you.”

“Oh, he ain’t mad now,” Floyd said, taking Oliver’s hand and kissing it. “No more copperhead.”

“Phew.” Oliver squeezed Floyd’s hand. “Well, so, tell me more about him, then.”

“Hm, well, he liked everyone. Or... I need to think of how to say it. Sexually, Matt could have liked anyone.”

Oliver thought for a moment. “Do you mean that Matt thought men and women were both attractive?”

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