Page 101 of Pride High 2: Orange

There weren’t many surprises. The small room dedicated to books—shelves lining the walls—seemed extravagant. How many people had their own library? When reaching the bedroom, they stood silently in the doorway, considering the possibilities. But only for a moment.

“Amazing!” Cameron said as he rushed toward the bed. “This is all hand-carved! Just look at the amount of detail. Chateauesque, I believe the style is called. Unless it’s actually from the sixteenth century. And check out those lamps! I bet they’re French too.”

“Careful,” Anthony said, “or you’ll blow your load too soon.”

Cameron turned around and laughed. “Sorry, but he’s been holding out on me. There’s some great stuff in here!”

“I don’t see many photos though,” Anthony said with a frown as he pivoted in a slow circle. “Here or anywhere else in the house. Not of his husband anyway.”

“You mean Lover Boy? I’ve never seen him either.”

“You haven’t met?”

“Nope.” Cameron sat on the bed and bounced a few times, as if testing it. “Charles is very protective of his husband. He has some sort of high-profile career. A public position, he called it once.”

“Like the mayor or something?” Anthony asked.

Cameron shrugged. “No idea. But that’s the reason I’m not supposed to come over without calling first.”

There had to be a photo of himsomewhere, even if they had to start searching through drawers. But that would be a poor way to repay Charles’s kindness, so Anthony decided not to go looking.

Once they finished touring the house, they went to the kitchen, where Anthony tried his best to make dinner special for them both, even if most of it came out of a can. He found some fresh parmesan to grate over the spaghetti and lit a pair of candles on the small table. Cameron put a record on the old phonograph in the living room during this. Conversation was stilted as they began eating, perhaps because the evening had so much riding on it. They would remember this night for the rest of their lives, with any luck. Eventually they relaxed and chatted about the sort of things they usually did, in between laughing and making jokes.

They moved to the living room afterwards. Cameron played museum curator, pointing out different pieces that he liked or explaining the woodworking techniques that were used to create certain details. Which might sound boring to most people, but Anthony thought it was hot. He adored Cameron’s enthusiasm and was endlessly impressed by all the things he knew. What an incredible guy! Anthony couldn’t think of anyone else he wanted to have his first time with. Not in this moment.

The old record they were listening to came to an end, the silence deafening. They looked at each other with transparent longing.

“Just a second,” Cameron said. “Charles isn’t into technology, but I noticed a radio in the kitchen that has a tape player.”

Anthony had seen it too, attached to the underside of a cabinet. He waited in the living room, surrounded by treasures from decades before he was born. As much as he liked it here, he wished they were in a place of their own. Not their respective bedrooms, but somewhere new that they had created together. Their own house, small and humble, for them to fill with all the memories they would make.

New Order’s “Ceremony” began playing from the kitchen, making him feel one step closer to that dream. It was their song. He was grateful Cameron had thought to bring the mixtape along, because now it really did feel like home. His boyfriend reappeared in the living room and walked over to embrace him.

“I’m so grateful we have this night together,” Cameron said while nuzzling their noses together.

“Me too. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, even before I knew where we’d stay. I was worried it wouldn’t happen at all. Thank god it did because…” He took a deep breath, anticipation swirling inside him. “I’m ready.”

Cameron looked deep into his eyes. Then he reached for the hem of the black thermal shirt that Anthony wore, as if wanting to pull it up and off.

“Notthatready,” Anthony said as he backed away. “I mean Iambut… Do you mind going first?”

Cameron tilted his head in confusion. “I’m pretty sure this has to be a team effort. I’m tired of doing it alone.”

Anthony laughed at himself. “Obviously. It’s just that…” He wasn’t crazy about his own body. He’d always been the kind of guy who wore a T-shirt in the swimming pool, even as a kid. Anthony didn’t long for big muscles. Doing push-ups wouldn’t help, because what he wanted was elusive. To the point that even he didn’t know the answer. But he wasn’t satisfied with himself. That much was certain. “I’m kind of shy,” he said lamely. “About how I look.”

“I love skinny guys,” Cameron assured him. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll put on a show. But first…”

He swept Anthony up and carried him to the emerald-green couch. After plopping him down on it and leaning in for a quick kiss, Cameron retreated a few paces. With a playful grin, he grabbed his sweater and pulled it over his head. The shirt underneath tried to go with it, exposing abs before he tugged it down again.

“Was that a six-pack?” Anthony said, already starting to salivate.

“I do a lot of sit-ups,” Cameron said. “And right before I picked you up, I did so many push-ups that my arms still hurt.”

“Show me,” Anthony said.

“Fine, fine,” Cameron said with a playful smile. The muscles of his torso stretched as he slowly stripped off the shirt. Then he tossed it aside.

Anthony took in the strong shoulders, the round biceps, and two beautiful pecs that weren’t as large as Omar’s, but were tighter and more defined.