The brief pockets of time they shared together were always full of people. They were not visible to Thom, exactly, he was reminded of their existence when Jonny’s gaze strayed away from him to rest on some unseen person, briefly, then come back to Thom’s face. At first Thom’s breath hitched and he stumbled over his words when something like that happened; then he grew accustomed to it, continuing to speak, while some part of him studied Jonny.
They were walking now and Thom could not guess if Jonny were looking at people around them, or if he were busy with the logistics of dodging the oncoming bodies; one of them was talking, excitedly, and Thom wondered briefly how they knew where they were going; perhaps they relied on each other for direction, like fish following their neighbors blindly. Nevertheless they reached the point where they were to separate, and Jonny, who was walking ahead, turned to Thom with a precursory smile. They stood smiling for a second, because there were no appropriate goodbyes on their tongues.
“Want a hug?” Thom said, low in his throat, spreading his arms slightly, and leaning forward when he saw a small nod from still-smiling Jonny. Thom’s hands landed on Jonny’s spine, and as he allowed them to stroke lower – the first inclination of exploration – he felt Jonny twisting, following the movement of his hand, responding comfortably and naturally. It was, really, a moment of mutual movement, of flesh connecting with flesh in a mysterious dance of bodies; a lever raised or a switch flicked or a button pushed, and it occurred to Thom how easy it would be fit his body against Jonny’s.
Dragging his hands over Thom’s shoulders and down his arms before separating, Jonny straightened with an enigmatic smile.
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