Page 8 of Love Is…

“My point is,” Hal says. “We help each other out. Without expectation, without keeping score – it’s what we do. Whether it’s a roast beef sandwich, or something bigger.”

“Or something as big as being a dependent on your taxes,” Luke mutters.

“You do understand that I’d die for you, right? And you’re complaining that I’m paying for stuff until you get your book published.”

Luke’s brows shoot up. “I…” Speechless for once.

Hal lets go of his hand, and Luke looks disappointed until he realizes it’s so Hal can come around the counter and put his arms around him. Luke feels small like this, when he’s worried, all sharp shoulders and narrow ribs, his breath warm against Hal’s throat when he tucks his chin over his head. His heart beats a nervous rhythm against Hal’s palm.

It’s amazing, always, the way touching like this, holding each other, takes Hal back, all the way back. He’s both a child and a man when he’s with Luke. He’s light, and happy, and he has the assuredness of history to ground him. It’s a dizzying, overwhelming feeling, to love someone so completely, in every way possible, and to feel that same love returned.

When he speaks, his voice is low, and gentle, just for the two of them, too precious to risk losing into the cold space of the entire room. Right into Luke’s ear. “You know you’re the love of my life, right? And my best friend. I’ve loved you my whole life.”

Luke shivers and presses his face more firmly into Hal’s throat; his lashes tickle against his pulse.

“You meaneverythingto me,” Hal says, smoothing a hand up and down his back, the hard knobs of this spine. “So it kinda hurts my feelings when you act like you’re a burden on me. Like I’m gonna get sick of you.”

“Oh,” Luke says with a quiet gasp. “I don’t – I’m sorry.” He kisses Hal’s throat. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“You should be,” Hal says, smiling. The warmth in his chest threatens to go nuclear and melt him from the inside out.

Luke sniffs. “The chicken’s burning.”

“I’ll make more chicken.”

And he does.

And it’s almost as good as Luke’s mama makes it.

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