[Featured in FreetheLGBT: Diverse Literature reading list and Humor: Young. Dumb. Full of Fun list]
Colin Mitchell, a photographer at a well-known store, Snapshot, is openly gay--mostly. His ideal experiences are sexcapades that are always subtle, n...
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"You're sure you don't wanna come with me?" Peter asked one more time, crossing his hands behind the headrest of the seat. He stretched his body out, breath hitching at the dull ache that spread through his body when it brushed a little too hard against the seat.
Colin replied, "I'm sure." He glanced at Peter, watching as he adjusted himself before his eyes fell shut briefly.
They were in the parking lot behind the venue of Marcus Hall's party. A hotel. A renowned one, judging from it's outlook. It screamed five star with its overly-complicated architecture.
The glow from the lights lined up around the lot streamed in on one side of the car. Colin's. His head lolled to Peter's direction and he bit on the insides of his cheek, mind wandering.
They were still here, minutes after Colin had pulled in, just sitting in silence, staring and thinking about God knows what. If not for the occasional drunk people that stumbled there from the hotel as they yelled profanities, or the ones that arrived with crates of drinks and flashing lights from all the selfies, they'd have slipped into some sort of altered state.
But for the courtesy of the patrons, they were still very conscious.
"And are you sure you don't want to go back with me?" Colin whispered.
"I'm sure."
Colin sighed, plucking Peter's hand and clasping it in his. His thumb danced on Peter's skin, doing a lonely tango while his eyes took all they could of Peter's highlighted face.
"Then why are you still here?"
"I don't want to be the dweeb who attends parties early. I can't just be standing around without a purpose." Peter's face scrunched up, revealing one of his infamous scowls.
Colin rolled his eyes. "You're attending that party without a purpose."
"Who said?" he paused. "I have one."
"What could that possibly be? To impress him."
Peter clicked his tongue. "To stress you out, since you don't want to tell me what happened with Marcus."
"So this is all on purpose."
"Yes."
From the corner of Peter's eyes, he saw Colin sit up, felt Colin's circling thumb lift off his hand, the warmth slipping. Immediately, he wanted to stop Colin's hand from leaving his, but the brunet already had his hand on the steering wheel, drumming his warmth onto the inanimate object.
Silence came again and Peter checked the time on his phone, immediately forgetting when he turned off the screen. He checked again. It was way past the time he had decided to appear at the party but who was keeping track anyway?
"My ass is sore," Colin mumbled, not knowing whether to stop the smile the threatened to turn his lips up. His hand stopped, moving to run through the messy pile his hair was in.
