Page 95 of The Bright and Hungry Future of Hawks

Did Ben enjoy doing all these things thattheyhad never done?

No, he didn’twantto know these things—heneededto know them.

And the possible answers terrified him.

He wasn’t a stupid man—despite the fucking rubbish he filled his head with for amusement—and he was very well aware that his life was as it was because he was afraid to make it more.

After four decades of longing, he had finally found something he genuinely wanted, and he was terrified to let the unforgiving universe know of his desire.

Wanting things got you fucked over.

But repressing desire got you locked in a box, writhing in painful confinement.

Affection, betrayal or farewell?

Ben had walked his horse out of the waves and dismounted. Aleksey followed suit, tense and unhappy, until finally Ben replied, “Nathan. He was called Nathan. He was a carpenter. He was putting new windows into the cottage for me.”

“Had he been there long?”Where any of his things in that cottage? Were you sharing your life with him?

“No. Why do you ask this now?”

This was not actually the reply Aleksey wanted. He pursed his lips for a moment, attempting to frame a question that he had been unable to successfully ask anyone his whole life, and Ben, studying him intently, immediately added with some asperity, “You already knew all about him. Of course you did.”

They began to walk their horses back toward the headland separating the two beaches at high tide. “I was curious when you would tell me, though.”

“No, you weren’t. Jesus. Is this about the job or is this about us? You think his death has something to do with…It was just a kiss. People kiss.Normalpeople kiss.”

“You think you are not normal?”

“I thinkyou’renot normal! With all due respect. Sir.”

It was just a kiss. Aleksey laughed. That was a forth possibility he had not considered. Affection, betrayal, farewell…and apparently just a meaningless gesture, the result of a wager.

“So, you think I will become a substitute Nathan for you?” The question was out before he realised he’d actually asked it aloud. He did not know what he would do if Ben said yes. Or if he said no, come to that.

Ben started a reply. Aleksey could not bear to hear it. Without thinking it through further, just thinkingI’ll probably be fucked either way, Aleksey finally put himself into his own game, a dark, as yet unknown chess piece on an uncertain board.

He kissed Ben back.

His kiss wasn’t cold and tentative at all. It wasn’t clumsy, either. He put his full and certain conviction into that joining of their mouths that one way or the other nothing would be the same again for either of them. He told Ben through the intensity of his lips that thismeantsomething.

And Ben responded.

Not treachery.

No goodbyes.

A savage return of tongue and spit that sent a stab of lust straight to Aleksey’s groin.

But something warm as well trickling slowly and surely through his chest. It felt like melting, and he did not understand it.

He wanted the fire, the urgency. These he was familiar with, safe.

But the thawing continued with each smile Ben Rider touched to his lips, each glance he made to where their flesh connected, every tiny change of position.

He needed to stop, to regroup, to be back in control.

No, he needed to kiss Ben again. So he did, and it was even better the second time: sea salt tang on stubble, breath mingling, smirking at awkward clashing, hands exploring each other’s skin.

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