Clef stepped closer to Steve, closing the gap between the two men. The champagne flute separated their chests from touching as Clef leaned into Steve’s left ear. He whispered, “I mean no harm. I’ve never meant any harm. You have a loving and faithful man at your side. Forever faithful to you. Even in his past. Gio and I have always been plutonic. Know that. Nothing has been romantic between us. He is meant to be with you. Here and now. In your future together. Always. He is the man of your dreams, or as they say in this place, your Prince Charming. You have him. Keep him. Hold him. He is yours. He has always been yours, Steve. Always. Never doubt that. I only wish the two of you a happy-ever-after. I only wish you to love and cherish each other.” Clef gently kissed his cheek, slowly pulled away.
“Thank you,” Steve said, misty-eyed, unsure of what had just happened. “I appreciate that.”
Again, Clef bowed. “I bid you farewell. I bid you love.” He slowly turned around and walked away, vanishing within the heap of guests, floating there for a second like an illuminating firefly, then gone, instantly.
It was Gio who broke the lethargic and sweetened moment. He drew his full attention to Steve. “Dance with me, husband.” Then he pulled on Steve’s right arm and squeezed the man’s hand within his own. “Let’s celebrate our love. The mix of us.”
Steve couldn’t reply, being gently drawn into the dancing crowd of men and women by Gio. He listened to cheers around him, guests being excited for their marriage and the promising future that the two men would share together. Steve bumped into all of the attendees at the Nightingale Hour. A gentle elbow jab here. A shoulder nudge there. But no one cared, letting him pass to the center of the meadow, near the mellow brook again, a silver midnight overhead.
And there, against Gio’s bare chest, a plain of muscle and thin fur that he had kissed many times, adoring, face to face with the man, he began to sway to the hollow and drumming music, staring into his almost-black eyes, falling there, lost, but having no struggle, and in love with Gio. So in love. Love. Mixed.
THE END
ABOUT R.W. CLINGER
R.W. Clinger is a resident of Pittsburgh. He has a degree in English from Point Park University of Pittsburgh. His writing entails gay human studies. His work includes Just a Boy, Skin Tour, Skin Artist, Soft on the Eyes, Pool Boy, The Last Pile of Leaves, The Weekender, Cutie Pie Must Die, Frat Brats, Panama Dan, Spoil Me So, The Shower Police, Splash Boys, and several stories with Starbooks Press. For three years he has held the position of managing editor for the literary magazine The Writer’s Post Journal. Visit him online at rwclinger.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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