God, it’s perfect. It’s everything Anthony has wanted since he laid eyes on Gabriel across the atrium earlier that evening. The tension of earlier is gone, as is their misunderstanding, or disagreement, or impasse—whatever it was that they could not quite say to each other. All that matters is this pleasure, which requires no words, and begs for no explanation.

Anthony doesn’t want it to end, but desire drives him on. He moans, trembling as he grows desperately close to the edge.