9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Floyd

On a Saturday toward the end of June, Floyd and Ollie walked together to the company store. Ollie wanted the two of them to take a train to Charleston, have an adventure. Normally, Floyd would have resisted the urge to travel to the city, mostly because it was too much of a hassle, especially when it came to converting scrip over to United States currency. It was a pain in the rear end to figure out how much you'd need to change over at the company store in order to buy whatever it was you wanted to buy out there.

Complicating matters, the exchange rate wasn't too good. If a miner was feeling bold (or foolish), he might want to borrow from his future self—to request a loan, of sorts, from his future paycheck, and exchange that money over so that he could spend it in the city. If a fella kept this up, he'd end up in debt. Floyd had seen it happen a few times. Coal companies were probably happy when it did. Miners who owed the company money couldn't very well leave, could they? Luckily, Floyd had never needed to borrow money from his future self, even to cover necessities, which also happened to folks sometimes. He never borrowed for entertainment purposes neither, even taking it so far as to avoid changing scrip over entirely. He thought it best to stay away from all that. But...

Lord help him, how could he say no to spending time with Ollie? If Ollie wanted to explore the city, Floyd supposed he'd have to explore it, too.

Floyd and Ollie approached the counter where Charlie was reading a newspaper.

"Morning, Charlie," Floyd said. "I need to change some scrip over."

" You?! " Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow. "Now that's new." Floyd prepared himself to receive some sort of lecture, but instead, Charlie held up a finger and walked away toward the windows. After resting his hands on his hips, Charlie looked up like he was searching the sky. For what, Floyd didn't know. After another few seconds of this, Charlie returned to the counter. "Strange. There ain't no pigs flying out there."

Floyd snorted. "You're worse than Effie."

Ollie arched an eyebrow. "Jeez, you weren't exaggerating when you told me you never leave Rock Creek, were you?"

"Nope." Floyd tossed a little cloth poke onto the counter. "In there's twenty in scrip. How much is that in dollars?"

Charlie dumped the tin-colored coins out onto the counter to count them.

"Yep, twenty." He opened the register and proceeded to count out paper bills. "That'll earn you an even fifteen."

"Wait, wait, wait," Ollie said in rapid succession. "Floyd, no, keep your scrip. I hadn't realized you would lose that much money for the exchange. I have plenty to cover both of us."

Charlie whistled. "Wow, that's some friend you got there."

Floyd ignored Charlie's comment.

"I ain't taking your money, Ollie."

"You lose five dollars!" Ollie protested. "I've been told that's nothing to sneeze at."

Through a brief flash of envy, Floyd had to fight to keep a straight face. Of course Ollie been told , because Ollie wouldn't know otherwise. He had come from money. He still had money. Sometimes, it felt like Ollie was a little boy playing pretend out here in the mines.

"Well, fortunately, I ain't sick," Floyd said before turning his attention back to Charlie and holding out his hand. "I'll take the fifteen."

Floyd heard Ollie let out an irritated huff beside him.

"What are you planning on buying?" Charlie asked.

"Probably a phonograph or whatever it is they got in the stores nowadays. We need a new listening device. Effie's sick of my sad banjo playing."

"Good luck to you. I know them things are expensive."

"Fifteen should cover it. Ollie and me want to see a picture, too. Maybe I can pick up a new toy for Jo if there's extra."

Ollie tugged on Floyd's sleeve. "Come on," he said, voice rife with irritation. "I think the next train will arrive soon."

Floyd shoved the empty cloth poke back in his pocket and folded up the bills.

"Have a nice Saturday, Charlie," Floyd said, sliding the paper money into his wallet.

After that, Floyd and Oliver walked across town to catch the train. Floyd could still sense some tension between them. He knew Ollie wasn't very happy with him for refusing his offer. But Floyd took care of his family his own self. If they needed a new listening device, he would be the one to buy it. Ollie could keep his money, maybe buy more of them fancy suits he liked so much.

Minutes into their train ride, Ollie still looked pretty mad—his brows furrowed slightly and a scowl on his face. Meanwhile, most of Floyd's earlier upset had since faded away. Now, instead of feeling bitter about Ollie's expensive suits, Floyd found himself thinking 'bout how nice Ollie looked in them. He wondered if a compliment might lift Ollie's mood.

Floyd tapped Ollie's foot with his own.

"I know what you can spend your money on," Floyd said before leaning in close, hoping to sound playful. "How about another one of them fancy suits? I like seeing you in those."

Ollie pursed his lips, hopefully to keep himself from smiling. Feeling confident that his plan was working, Floyd tried again.

"You look real nice today, Ollie. I ain't mention that to you yet."

Ollie's cheeks flushed. "Floyd, I know what it is you're trying to do."

"What is it you think I'm trying to do?"

"You're trying to make me forget about the fact that you snubbed my offer back there."

"I wasn't trying to snub you."

"Why wouldn't you let me pay for you today? I mean, I'd even prefer to buy you the phonograph myself, especially if it would mean that the two of us could listen to music together."

"I wasn't raised to take charity."

"It's not charity." Ollie lowered his voice to a soft whisper. "I wanted to treat you. Especially now that I'm aware of the fact that you're being taken advantage of by the coal company like this. I can't believe I had never really paid much attention to the exchange rate before."

"Not like we'll be heading to Charleston every weekend."

"Not if Donohue Coal and Steel has something to say about it."

Floyd tried not to react to Ollie's tone. He hated when Ollie talked about life in the coal town like he actually knew something about it, like he was really living it. Because Ollie wasn't living it. He'd never really be living it, not like everybody else in Rock Creek. Because Ollie had plenty of money. He was still an outsider. Still new to mining, too.

Which was one of the reasons why Floyd always made sure to take care of him in the mines. Whenever they needed their blast powder, Floyd took it upon himself to handle it, making sure Ollie wouldn't be in harm's way. Whenever they were assigned a new tunnel, Floyd ventured in first, test lamp in tow, to check for the so-called asphyxiant gasses and confirm that it was safe. He needed to keep Ollie safe. Like he ought to have kept Matt safe all them years ago.

Floyd's chest tightened at the thought of Matt.

Ignoring the upset, Floyd scooted closer to Ollie. He wanted them to have fun in the city. He couldn't let Ollie keep sulking about the money, and he couldn't let himself start to sulk about Matt neither.

"Just have fun with me today," Floyd said. "Don't worry about Donohue Coal and Steel. Worry about spending time with me."

Floyd waited for Ollie's response. He hoped Ollie would let it go.

"Fine. I'll try not to worry about Donohue," Ollie relented. "Can I at least pay for the pictures?"

"Mmm . . . yeah, I suppose."

"Thank you." Ollie's face lit up, the wrinkles on his forehead finally fading while his eyes brightened. "And thank you for the compliments. You look very nice, too. Fantastic even."

"Yeah, I like this suit." Floyd studied the light gray sleeves. "I wear it to church a lot."

"Well, I think it's officially too tainted for church now."

Floyd smiled, already aware of what was a-coming.

"Why's that?"

"Because it has me thinking some very un holy thoughts."

Floyd let out a puff of air. "You're really something, Ollie."

"So are you, Floyd."

Floyd tapped Ollie's foot again. Ollie tapped his back.

Soon, they arrived in Charleston. Floyd and Ollie spent the majority of their time doing something Ollie called "window-shopping," where they walked by a bunch of stores real slow-like and talked about what they seen on display and whether or not they'd ever buy any of it. It was a little strange since Ollie could probably buy every single item if he wanted to, but it was fun, too. A couple of times, Ollie made comments about the prices of some of the items—boots and men's shirts and the like—and seemed keen to point out that they cost less in Charleston than in Rock Creek. More evidence, he said, that the company was taking advantage. Comments like that had Floyd's heart hammering, fury about the past and worry over the future swirling in his chest like a storm, but Floyd managed to fight the feelings back. He really wanted their special day to stay special.

At one point, they walked past a toy store, and Floyd seen something Josephine might like—a box of building materials called Lincoln Logs—but thought that he should make sure he'd have enough left after the phonograph before trying to buy it. They passed a hat shop, too. Floyd could tell that Ollie was fighting the urge to go inside. He wished he could sneak away and buy Ollie one of them hats. He'd have loved to see Ollie's face light up when presented with a new one. But, of course, he'd never have that kind of money, especially not after buying the phonograph.

Around noon, they had lunch in a restaurant, which Floyd hadn't never done before. It was a real treat, especially since it was with Ollie. They had the same sandwich—brisket, mustard, and pickles—which they both really liked. After that, they saw a picture called The Kid , and it was a thrill to spend so much time laughing like that. Being in the dark with Ollie was romantic, too, even if the film wasn't a romantic one.

Finally, once the movie was over, they found a music shop, one that sold phonographs and records and even instruments, too. Unfortunately, none of the models they had cost less than twenty dollars, which was something Floyd had not expected.

"How can they be so expensive?" he wondered aloud, scratching his head. "Last one we had cost me fifteen. I thought they might be even cheaper now."

Ollie touched his arm. "Let me ask the owner. Maybe they have more in the back."

While Ollie talked to the owner, Floyd stood there staring at the little white price tags. Twenty. Twenty-two. Thirty! How could people afford these?

Ollie returned, wearing a frown.

"He says they stopped carrying some of the cheaper models last year."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure," Ollie said. "I'm sorry, Floyd."

"Guess I'll have to save up some more."

Ollie huffed in irritation. "You'd have had enough if it hadn't been for the exchange rate," he muttered.

Anger zipped through Floyd's veins, hot and fast like lightning. Why was Ollie so keen on talking about Donohue Coal and Steel? Every comment Ollie was making kept reminding Floyd of the past—of the conversations he'd had with Matt about them needing to leave the coal industry. Floyd was already aware of the problems with these coal companies. Ollie wasn't telling him nothing new. But no matter how bad things were, Floyd couldn't never leave. Not when Matt hadn't never been able to. Thinking of the fact that Matt hadn't never made it out, Floyd's heart started beating wildly. Pretty soon, it was pounding so doggone ferociously that he couldn't keep himself from showing how flustered he really was.

"I thought we weren't talking 'bout the coal company no more," Floyd spit, his voice stern.

"Jesus Christ, Floyd, why are you so upset every single time I mention the many, many ways in which the coal company is cheating you? It's not like I'm saying it's your fault. It's Frederick fucking Donohue's! And Don Chafin's, too."

"Hush up, Ollie!" Floyd said, the volume of his voice startling even to him.

Ollie looked unfazed by it.

"You're being so... so ridiculous about this!" Ollie exclaimed, and Floyd's hands started to shake. "Look, Rock Creek is a fine place to live, but I know there have to be better towns out there, towns where companies can't fucking mandate that you work past lunchtime even if you've filled your car early, towns where companies can't short you because they feel like your car has too much rubble, towns where companies aren't charging miners an arm and a leg to replace a broken carbide lamp!"

Floyd's nostrils flared. "I like Rock Creek! I worked hard to build a life there!"

"But there are better—"

"So, what, Ollie, you want me to up and leave? Are you saying I chose wrong? Are you telling me that I ain't taking care of my family?"

"What?! No! Of course not!"

"After everything we been through in McDowell, me and Effie are happy to have a home in Rock Creek. Donohue's nicer than some of them other coal operators out there, trust me ." Thinking of the man who had hurt Effie, Floyd's stomach tightened, and he swallowed hard, fighting the bile that was rising in his throat. "Effie... Effie knows that, too."

"Floyd—"

"You think you're so smart because you been to college, but I know we got it better than a lot of other miners in West Virginia. Did you know that Donohue only stocks them short-range explosives in the company store now? He came by a couple years ago and made a big speech about it, saying it was safer, saying he wanted to make things better for us," Floyd said. "And we got them test lamps now, too. And plenty of other things. I'm not risking what I have—what my family has—by moving somewhere else. I can't move somewhere else. I can't leave the coal industry. I can't—"

Floyd's breath shook, and suddenly, the world started to spin. Squeezing his eyes shut, Floyd had to hold back tears. Not only were his hands starting to tremble, but his whole body was shaking too. He couldn't stop thinking of poor Matt. Smart, caring, loyal Matt who had never made it out, who had never realized his future. Who had never realized their future.

While Floyd was lost in his upset—trapped in visions of the past—Ollie took him by the forearm and led him outside. Dazed, Floyd let Ollie take him far from the store and over to a bench. Floyd's breath was still shaking when he sat.

"Floyd," Ollie said softly. "Deep breaths. Slow."

It took a whole bunch of breaths before Floyd could calm himself. Once his body stopped trembling and thoughts of Matt and the coal companies finally faded, Floyd was left feeling completely and utterly embarrassed about how fast his emotions had spiraled out of control. Shame trickled up the back of his neck, turning his ears hot, and he leaned forward to bury his head in his hands. Ollie rubbed his back.

"I never meant to upset you like that," Ollie said softly.

"I know," Floyd managed to say in return.

He wanted to tell Ollie what had him so flustered, but the shame he was feeling had wrapped itself around his throat, strangling him and preventing the words from coming.

"How can I help?" Ollie asked.

"I need... I need some time," Floyd choked out.

"Do you want me to go, then?"

After a pause, Floyd managed a nod. But only barely.

"Should I wait for you at the train station?" Ollie asked.

Eyes tearing, Floyd shook his head.

"I feel so bad leaving you, but if that's what you need..." Ollie rubbed his back a couple more times. "I'll see you back in Rock Creek, then?"

Floyd stayed hidden behind his hands as Ollie walked away. He waited on the bench for a while—maybe a whole hour—feeling horrible for losing his temper with Ollie. Poor Ollie hadn't meant no harm. He was only trying to help. Golly, what a mess this was. Why hadn't he been able to keep himself from falling to pieces like that?

After Floyd spent some time wallowing, he started toward the train station. On the way, he purchased the Lincoln Logs for Josephine and a summer dress for Effie. Last, Floyd stopped at the hat shop and bought the nicest, most expensive hat he could afford.

Traveling back to Rock Creek, Floyd kept bouncing his leg and shifting in his seat on the train. He hoped Ollie would forgive him for yelling and for saying that he needed some time to himself.

Shortly before supper, Floyd arrived home. After presenting his family with their gifts, he told Effie what had happened between him and Ollie back in Charleston and asked her if he could head over to Ollie's once they were finished eating so that he could try to patch things up. Effie was supportive, as she always was, and even told Floyd not to worry about tucking Josephine into bed. But then, when it came time to leave, Floyd suddenly felt too nervous to follow through. He needed a little more time to himself, a little more time to come up with the right words to say. So, he read Josephine a bedtime story and stayed with her until she fell asleep.

By the time Floyd came back to the living room, Ollie had come over his own self and was sitting on the sofa.

"Hi," Ollie said with a half-smile that pulled at Floyd's heart.

Floyd tried to smile back. "Hi."

Effie excused herself and left for the sewing room, saying she had to patch up one of Josephine's dresses. Floyd sat beside Ollie on the couch.

"I'm so sorry for everything I said earlier," Ollie said. "It wasn't my place to criticize the town like that."

"It was your place. It is your place. You live here, too."

"I'm not a real miner."

"You are a real miner," Floyd said. "And I'm a real lunkhead."

"You're not a lunkhead. I only call you that because I'm... well because I'm a lunkhead. I shouldn't have kept hounding you about the coal company. You're content with your life here and I have to respect that. God, I knew that already. But I couldn't stop myself."

"You were only trying to look out for me. I know that now. I was too thick to see it before."

"I would never try to suggest that you made the wrong choice for your family. Ever. I can see how hard you work to take care of Effie and Josephine. I know you want what's best for them. I want you to be happy, Floyd, that's all."

"I am happy." Floyd took Oliver's hand and kissed it. "Especially now that you're here." He shifted closer to Ollie on the couch, shuffling over until their thighs were pressed against each other's. "And I need to tell you why I reacted like that."

"Oh, Floyd, I can tell that whatever it is must be hard for you to talk about. It's fine to keep it to yourself. Really."

"Nah, I want to tell you. I want to make sure you know why... why talking 'bout the coal company can be so hard for me." Floyd took Ollie's hand and kissed it one more time. "I've mentioned the man who I was with before you. But I never told you..." Floyd inhaled a shaky breath. "I never told you that the two of us were planning on leaving the coal industry together, but then he..."

Floyd couldn't even make himself say it.

"Did he pass?" Oliver asked, his voice warm and kind.

Floyd swallowed. "Yeah." He kissed Ollie's hand a couple more times. It was like having Ollie close was keeping him tethered to the present. Without Ollie's touch, Floyd thought he might slip into the past and become lost in those horrible memories again. Golly, it was still so hard to talk about Matt. "I can't never leave the coal industry. Because my friend... well, he wasn't never able to leave."

"So, me reminding you of how much better you might have it if you ever left is making you feel like I'm... like I'm pushing you to leave, maybe?"

"Something like that."

"Oh, Floyd, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Ollie. I know you never meant no harm." After a moment, Floyd squeezed Ollie's hand and stood. He started toward the hat rack. "I bought something for you." He took the brand-new navy-blue fedora off the rack and sat back on the couch. "Here."

Slowly, Ollie reached for the hat.

"You bought this for me?" Ollie asked, his soft voice filled with wonderment.

"Yeah. I wanted to say sorry for everything—for losing my temper and for making you come back to Rock Creek by yourself."

"Oh my God." Ollie turned it around and around in his hands, running his fingers over the wool. "It's perfect."

Floyd took it and fit it atop Ollie's head.

"You look real handsome, Ollie," Floyd said with a smile. "You always do."

"Thank you."

Ollie snatched Floyd's hand and squeezed it. They sat there for a while, playing with each other's hands. Floyd wanted so badly to kiss him, to kiss this wonderfully sweet man who he cared about so much. And who cared about him so much, too.

But somehow, he still wasn't ready. Even though he wanted to be.

***

One week later, Floyd was building a little miniature log cabin on the floor with Josephine while he was waiting for Ollie to stop by. Ollie and him had been spending time together every single day after work, sometimes over at Ollie's house, where they'd hold hands and talk, sometimes over at Floyd's house, where they'd play checkers with Josephine and Effie. It was nice to see each other so much. Only problem was they hadn't kissed yet. And it was all Floyd's fault. Ollie had been real patient, too. Floyd could tell how much Ollie wanted them to kiss. Heck, Ollie probably wanted them to try other things, too.

But every time Floyd considered kissing Ollie, he'd think about Matt and then his stomach would start feeling funny—like the copperhead had come back—and he hadn't managed to push past the upset to make himself kiss the man he liked so much. Whenever Floyd let himself imagine what Ollie's lips would feel like on his own, whenever he thought about how nice it would be to pull Ollie onto his lap and be intimate with him, the snake would writhe in his stomach to torture him some more, making him feel sick.

Finally, close to Josephine's bedtime, Ollie came over. After Floyd put Josephine to bed, he and Ollie and Effie talked for a little while. At one point, Effie and Ollie took to arguing about chess strategies, which was fun to listen to, but when Floyd told them they should play, Effie protested, claiming that Floyd would pick up the rules simply by watching, which he thought was a bunch of hogwash. He'd seen her play a little here and there over the years. He still couldn't make heads or tails of it without her explaining more about the pieces and how they moved. More likely, Effie knew that chess took a while to play and wanted to make sure Floyd and Ollie had some time to themselves before it got too late. Sure enough, after only a little while longer, Effie excused herself to the bedroom.

And Ollie and Floyd were alone. Ollie tip-toed his fingers across the couch toward Floyd's waiting hand, and when their fingers laced together, Floyd hummed happily to himself. Ollie hummed back, too, and the sweet sound made Floyd's breath catch. Golly, Ollie was so sweet and so fun.

After a couple of minutes of them talking 'bout work and smiling big, silly smiles at each other, Ollie asked Floyd if he could have some coffee. While Floyd was busy in the kitchen grinding up some coffee beans Effie had roasted earlier, Ollie called to him from the couch.

"Hey, Floyd, what's this?"

When Floyd turned to face him, it was like the whole world stopped, and had it not been for the constant ticking of the nearby clock, he would have thought that maybe time itself had ceased to exist, too.

Because Ollie was holding Floyd's most treasured possession—Matt's old coin-collecting book. Floyd's throat tightened.

"Am I not supposed to see this or something?" Ollie asked, a playful edge to his voice. When Floyd only managed to stare wordlessly in response, Ollie's small smile fell away. "I'm really not supposed to see this, am I? Jeez, I'm sorry."

Before Floyd could tell Ollie what it even was, Ollie scrambled to set it on the coffee table, and then he folded his hands in his lap. Floyd tried to swallow.

"It was under Dog Race," Ollie said, pointing accusingly at the board game box.

Seconds ticked by.

Finally, Floyd managed a soft, "It was Matt's."

Golly, he hadn't said Matt's name in what felt like forever. Not outside the confines of his own head.

"Oh..." Oliver looked back at the book. "Was Matt the man who you, uhm, the man who—"

"Yeah," Floyd interrupted. "Matt Parsons. He was my... my best friend. He was... my everything."

Saying Matt's name had somehow caused the earth to start turning again, so Floyd crossed the room to sit next to Ollie.

"He collected coins," Floyd said, picking up the book. "Before..." He paused, the words catching in his throat. Even though Ollie knew the truth now, Floyd still couldn't manage to say it himself.

"Before he passed," Ollie finished for him, his voice filled with empathy. "Gosh, Floyd, I'm sorry for bringing him up."

"Nah, it's fine," Floyd said, forcing himself to flip open the book and face the rows of silver and bronze. "He was real proud of these."

Ollie looked on, his hands twisting in his lap.

"I can see why. Not that I know anything about coin collecting. But, you know, coins are supposed to be valuable. I think. Sorry. I'm nervous."

Floyd tried to smile. "Don't be."

"I think I've seen that one before," Ollie said, pointing, but clearly taking care not to get too close. "Is it an Indian Head penny?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Which one was Matt's favorite?"

Ollie's words rang in Floyd's ears. Which one was Matt's favorite? Tears sprang to his eyes, clouding his vision. He couldn't yet tell whether it made him happy or sad to hear Ollie ask about Matt so openly. He thought maybe it was both. Regaining composure, Floyd tapped the Flying Eagle penny.

"He liked this one a lot."

"Do you know much about it?"

"Not really. I think someone in Bramwell sold it to him. Some wealthy fella."

"He must have paid a bundle for it."

"Well, he might have traded something instead. Matt collected other things, too—stamps and pocket watches."

Ollie's tentative smile broadened. "It sounds like he was an interesting person."

Floyd inhaled deeply, breathing in Ollie's words. He let them expand in his chest, their warmth comforting him and calming him and settling that nervousness in his stomach.

"He was. He was a real interesting person," Floyd said, smiling back. "Like you, Ollie. You're real interesting, too."

"Well, that's... Floyd, that's probably the nicest compliment I've ever received." Ollie scooted closer and looked back at the book. "Which one is your favorite?"

Floyd had never thought about that before. He turned this over in his head for a bit before pointing to one that was so old, so faded, there was no sort of picture left anymore, only what looked to be the number 1754, but even that was sort of unclear.

"Probably that one."

Ollie's warm laughter clutched at his heart. "Why?"

"It's sort of mysterious."

"Mysterious? Floyd, it looks like trash," Ollie said, still laughing, but even more than before.

And that laughter bubbled up right inside Floyd's body, making him laugh, too.

"Yeah, a little."

"Oh God, it's a near-perfect metaphor for us, isn't it? You think I'm this mysterious and interesting person, but really, I'm trash."

Floyd snorted and shoved Ollie with his elbow. "Stop."

But that only prompted Ollie to keep poking at himself. If only Floyd could make himself stop laughing, he'd have told Ollie not to talk about himself like that.

"I'm an obscure, silver-colored, unreadable coin," Ollie continued. "I came into town looking exactly like that coin there. Don't tell me that thing belongs in the coin book. I mean, there are real fucking coins in there, coins worth money. But, you, Floyd Bennett, took one look at me and thought, ‘Gee, there's something wrong with that fellow. He's clearly running away from some kind of cushy life, behaving like a pompous windbag and clamoring about the proper housing for a man of his stature, a stature which was... let me see... an unmarried, childless man, so, yes, clearly someone who deserves the best of the best, and oh Jesus, he has so many hats! Oh well. Guess I'll keep him.'"

Holy heck, Ollie was so stinkin' funny. He was witty and smart and unique and strange and so many other words, words that only Ollie would think of because Ollie knew a lot of them. And Floyd loved that about him. He loved that Ollie was different. So, yeah, maybe Ollie was a little like that silly, unreadable coin. But Floyd loved that coin. And Floyd thought that, well, maybe he was starting to love Ollie, too.

"Ollie," Floyd said, snapping the coin book shut and setting it on the coffee table. "Don't insult yourself like that. I know you're trying to be funny, and you are funny, but you're so many other things, too. Wonderful things."

Ollie let out a long breath. "Thank you, Floyd. I know I'm not supposed to say things like that anymore, but, well, I've been saying them for what feels like my whole life. It's a hard habit to break."

"I know, but you're wonderful, Ollie. You're funny and fun and kind and handsome. And I like you so much." Floyd reached up to cup Ollie's cheek. "Can I kiss you now?"

"Yeah?" Ollie said, raising both of his eyebrows in surprise. "Alright, yeah, of course."

Heart pounding, Floyd leaned in close, stopping when their noses only barely touched. He waited, silent and still, for the snake to bite him. But there was nothing. Only Ollie's soft breathing. Floyd was close enough that he could feel the little puffs of warmth with each of Ollie's exhales. He could smell the sweet smell of sweat clinging to Ollie's skin, too. Closing his eyes, Floyd waited for fear or shame or sadness. But still, there was nothing. Nothing except want. He wanted to kiss Ollie. He wanted it so much.

Slowly, Floyd nuzzled Ollie's nose, savoring every moment of this beautiful closeness. Ollie sighed sweetly and that little sound provided the nudge Floyd needed to touch their lips together.

So he did.

They kissed. And kissed. And kissed. And when their tongues brushed against one another's, Ollie sighed again, and Floyd thought that he could listen to that tiny sound forever, like it alone would fill him and keep him whole and happy and alive.

Ollie's hand found Floyd's thigh, sending little tremors of want coursing through his body, making him shudder.

"Oh God, Floyd," Ollie murmured between kisses. "I want you."

Ollie saying those words was like him igniting a blasting cap. Without a second more hesitation, Floyd let his other hand fall to Ollie's waist, and then, in a flash, he pulled Ollie onto his lap. As soon as Ollie was settled, he started to rock his hips. Feeling Ollie's hardness pressing up against him, Floyd's own cock stiffened too.

With a needy whimper, Ollie continued rolling his hips and said, "I can't tell you how many times I've thought about this."

Floyd's cock twitched, and only a few thrusts later, it was practically throbbing with need. He knew that they ought to stop. He knew they ought to wait—for real love confessions, maybe, or, heck, even only for more privacy—but he couldn't make himself stop. He couldn't make himself wait. Floyd moved backward to lie back on the couch, pulling Ollie with him. Once Ollie settled on top of him, he started rolling his hips some more, and Floyd moaned into his mouth.

Breaking their kiss, Floyd whispered, "Ollie, you made me so hard."

"Can you come like this?" Ollie whispered back, continuing to rock against him.

"Yeah. You?"

"God, yes," Ollie said, and Floyd could feel him pressing more firmly with each thrust. "I'm so close."

Floyd had to fight to contain a moan, his body burning for release. Each thrust of Ollie's hips was bringing him closer to the edge, and soon, there came that familiar tingling sensation, the one that meant he was close.

"Almost," Floyd rasped, his voice low and husky.

Ollie clutched onto Floyd's shoulders. His thrusts became harder, rougher. Feeling Ollie's strong hands pressing against him, firmly holding him in place, Floyd let out a pleased grunt. He was surprised to find that he liked the way Ollie was on top of him like this. Liked the way Ollie was in control. Gosh, it felt so right. He'd let Ollie keep thrusting with whatever pace and intensity he wanted.

That's it, Ollie, Floyd wanted to say, but embarrassment held him back. He hadn't never been this intimate with someone before.

More and more strange comments flitted into Floyd's mind, but he couldn't make himself say none of them out loud. Still, Floyd said them in his head, enjoying the fantasy of it.

That's right, I'm yours. Show me I belong to you.

Ollie kept thrusting.

Make me finish for you.

With Ollie's next thrust, Floyd bucked his hips and came. One low, hushed moan escaped his lips.

"Jesus, Floyd," Ollie whispered, moving his hips faster.

Seconds later, Floyd felt Ollie's body shudder and cut off Ollie's accompanying moan with a kiss. They continued to kiss for a while longer, love-drunk and spent and happy. Overcome with a fierce tenderness, Floyd reached up and ran a hand through Ollie's beautiful, soft hair. Ollie smiled against his lips. And Floyd smiled too.

But their untroubled bliss was short-lived. Because finally Floyd had the sense to remember where they were. Carefully, he pushed against Ollie's shoulders, breaking them apart. They sat up.

"We can't never let that happen again," Floyd said, a little more sternly than intended, mostly upset with himself, not with Ollie. "Not here."

"You're right," Ollie said. "I'm sorry." He nuzzled Floyd's nose. "I lost myself in you."

Floyd turned these words over in his head. He liked the comfort they brought with them. He really had lost himself in Ollie. With their truth, Floyd found he could forgive himself a little.

"I lost myself in you," Floyd repeated. "I like that."

"I won't let it happen again."

Ollie's apologetic tone awakened a sympathetic sadness in Floyd's heart. Because they had both been lost in each other's touches. Ollie hadn't acted alone.

"Ain't your fault. I enjoyed myself too. I thought I was making that clear when we were in it." He kissed the tip of Ollie's nose. "We got to be respectful of my family, is all. Can't have Effie or Jo walking in on that kind of sinful behavior."

"I know." He climbed off of Floyd's lap. "I understand."

As soon as Ollie settled next to him, Floyd pulled him in for a short kiss. He couldn't hardly believe he hadn't even kissed Ollie yet a few hours ago. It felt so natural now, like they had been kissing for years.

Ollie pulled back and said, "I had so much fun, sweetheart."

Floyd's stomach fluttered in the most wonderful way.

"Sweetheart?"

"What do you think? I can alternate it with lunkhead."

"I like it."

"I know it's not exactly the most unique nickname, but you're my sweetheart, Floyd. You're the sweetest person I've ever met."

Floyd laughed a little. "You're too nice to me sometimes, Ollie. I'm sorry I ain't thought of a better nickname for you yet."

"I love the way you say ‘Ollie.' It's the only nickname I need." Ollie shifted and tugged at his pants. "Yeesh, I'm not looking forward to my walk home."

"Do you want to borrow some clothes? I can sneak into the bedroom and find some."

"Nah. It's a short walk."

"Yeah, that's true."

"I should head out."

"Are you coming to church tomorrow?"

"How are you asking me about church right now? Did you forget about the fact that we finished fucking each other? Or, kind of fucking."

"Well, I'll be there. Even though we... effed each other through our clothes."

Ollie laughed. "Jeez, that's adorable. One day, though, sweetheart, I will coax some very naughty words out of you."

"You can try."

"I will." Ollie smiled wolfishly. "I can't wait."

Blood rushed to Floyd's cheeks. He couldn't wait neither.