Word Count 250
Who Let the Boys Out
Horatio was first, this time. Archie had just time to see as well as feel Horatio’s smile come lazy and dazzled, but Archie was caught in the shuddering gasp, forward, forward, and his own eyes had to close.
There had been time for everything this time. A brilliant blue day, the aching end of summer, time to dawdle through streets they knew, to singing and drinking, and foolish joy, to mutton chops and wine, and a bed clean and wide.
Time for this, last and best of all things. And now Archie rested his hot face on the cool side of the pillow. There was time for their bodies to remember how to fit together in a real bed, and to rest. Archie’s left foot upon Horatio’s right, and Horatio’s hand over Archie’s hip.
“Hmmm?” He was almost asleep.
“That song about the dogs --”
“The dogs that got out?”
“It wasn’t about dogs at all, was it?”
Horatio’s voice was plaintive and outraged. He had liked the song. He had not actually been singing, but Archie had. There had been hand gestures too. Only Horatio, Archie thought, could be so outraged, with his hair sticking to his mouth, and his mouth red and swollen still, and the place on the bed between them damn well sticky and damp.
“‘A doggie is nothing if he don’t have a bone...’ Archie hummed against Horatio’s wrinkled brow.
“No, not really about dogs.”
***** I hope the Baha Men will forgive me. *************