By Fae Sutherland, Marguerite Labbe
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Ricky shook his head. He didn’t feel like getting high. He didn’t want to socialize much either. Charlie chatted with them, talking about the day’s march and the possibility of more rallies tomorrow. Ricky shifted, restless with the desire to be alone. He glanced over his shoulder, but it was hard to see far with the bonfires. He nudged Charlie with his shoulder. ” Charlie gave him a grateful look and nodded. They excused themselves, grabbed an extra blanket and their backpacks and headed away from the fire.
Only love, pleasure and two people who were beginning to think maybe changing the world wasn’t as important as changing their own corner of it. Ricky would be happy with that. He and Charlie, on the open water. Charlie playing his guitar and singing to him, making love whenever the urge struck. No drafts and no one to tell them they shouldn’t. “Maybe, when college is over, we’ll do that. ” He lifted his head and found Charlie smiling at him. Ricky reached up to touch a finger to his mouth. ” Charlie drew Ricky close and twined his arms around him.
He had chalked it up to them getting high. ” Ricky opened his eyes and met Charlie’s gaze. Their lips still touched and Charlie’s tongue slid provocatively over them. ” It wasn’t a question anymore. Ricky knew, with a burst of instinct, he was right. Charlie smiled, a mysterious curving of his lips. ” He slid his hands under Ricky’s shirt again and arched sinuously against him. “You’re better than any high, better than the feeling I get when I put the words together the way I intended. ” Ricky’s breath hitched, his heart tumbling as Charlie’s lips lingered over his jaw and his tongue flickered against Ricky’s pulse.