Page 42 of After His Eulogy
“I…“
“Yeah.”
He comes. He comes with my forehead against his and his hand on the back of my neck and his cock in my hand. His cock pulses against my stomach. His whole body does the long quiet release. His mouth is open against mine, not kissing, just open. He says, quiet, almost not a word, “Oh.”
I keep going. I keep going for a few more seconds and then I cannot keep going and I come too. My forehead against his. His hand still on the back of my neck. My hand still on him. I make a sound I have not made in years and he says into my mouth, “Yeah. Yeah.”
I collapse onto him. He takes my weight. He is breathing under me, slow, and his hand is on the back of my neck and his face is wet against my temple.
After. I have pulled out. I have dealt with the condom. I have come back. I am lying on my side facing him. He is on his back. His face is wet and his eyes are closed. His chest is rising and falling. His hand is on his stomach. His other hand is on the bed between us. I look at his hand. It is open. It is open the way it was open on the bench, the way it was open on the bed last week. Palm up, waiting for me to take it. I put my hand in his. He closes his fingers around mine. He does not open his eyes. We lie there. After a while I say, “Are you okay.”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, Reed.”
“You…“
“I know.”
“Was it…“
“It was what it was.”
“Yeah.”
“It was good. It was a lot. It was good.”
“Yeah.”
“I am okay.”
I just look at him.
He opens his eyes. He turns his head. He looks at me. His face is still wet. He has not wiped it. I wipe it with my thumb. He does not flinch. He looks at me.
“I have not done that,” he says.
“Cried.”
“Cried like that. While… yeah.”
“Okay.”
“I do not want to make it a thing.”
“Okay.”
“I think it was a thing my body had to do.”
“Yeah.”
“I am not going to apologize for it.”
“I am not asking you to.”
“Okay.”
