Page 125 of Walking Wounded

Luke smiles into the next kiss. “It’s not the same as with a girl, you know.”

Hal breathes a nervy laugh. “I may have…uh.” He breaks off when Luke nips his ear. “I may have watched some things.”

“Oh!” Luke barks a laugh. “Look at you,” he says right in his ear. “All dirty with your research porn.”

“I’d like to see your browser history,” Hal shoots back.

“No, you really wouldn’t.” Luke licks one long stripe up his neck that draws an unintelligible sound from Hal. “Alright, you ready to touch and not just look?”

Hal palms his ass and drags him close enough for Luke to feel the rigid shape of his erection. “What do you think?”

Luke ducks out of his grip and takes off for the bedroom. “Race you!”

The bedroom seems different now, because it isn’tHal’s room. It’stheirs.

He flings himself down on the bed face-first and shimmies his hips the best he can, feeling light and giddy. “Okay. Hop on.”

Hal smacks his hip. “You’re not as cute as you think you are,” he says, but his tone says he thinks Luke isadorable.

“Ugh. Come on. Why do I have to do all the work? You did watch the porn,” Luke teases.

“Okay, fine.” The bed dips as Hal climbs up, and then lies down directly on top of Luke’s back, covering his hands with his own.

“Oof, you’re heavy,” Luke complains. But it’s nice, really, Hal’s weight pressing him down into the mattress in a complete, but undemanding way like this. He thinks this must be why dogs love those Thunder Shirt things so much: the feelings of safety and closeness. He can feel the last of his nerves dissolving. When Hal starts to move, he quickly says, “No, I like it.”

Hal breathes a chuckle against his ear. “You just like to suffer.”

“It’s my shtick.”

“I thought sarcasm was your shtick.”

“That too. I’m a man of many shticks.”

Hal wiggles a little, like he’s getting more comfortable, but it lessens the pressure on Luke’s ribcage and he knows it was a squirm for his benefit.

“Hey,” Luke says, sobering. His voice drops by degrees, so the last word is just a whisper. “Were you serious? About…You weren’t just saying it?”

“I would never joke about that,” Hal says, gently. “You know that.”

“Yeah.” And he does, but there’s a part of him – that old cynic that’s lived in him since childhood – that has trouble wrapping his brain around Hal’s all-out honesty. It’s just somuch.

“So,” Hal says.

“So?”

“You didn’t answer.”

“You didn’t ask. You just said you wanted to do it.”

“Oh my – Okay.” Hal shifts off of him, stretches out on his side, and Luke rolls over so he can look at his face. His familiar, sweet, exasperated face. Hal takes a breath and grows serious…except for his eyes. Those are dancing a little, and he can’t help it. “Okay, ready this time?”

Luke nods.

“Lucas Phillip Keller. Will you do me the great honor of marrying me?”

Luke fights the urge to slide off the bed, press his face into the rug, and bawl his eyes up. He’s never expected to hear these words, and they’re punching him hard in all his tender, unguarded places. His underbelly is sliced wide by the brutal honesty of Hal’s question. He means it – Hal means it. That he wants to marry him. Matching rings and picket fences and labradoodles. Adopted babies and a joint bank account.

He takes a shaky breath and realizes he hasn’t answered, that he’s been silent too long, just staring at Hal.

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