It had been a long time since I’d had nothing to do.

The hotel had kept me plenty busy, and even when I was off work, I was usually so exhausted that bed with a book felt pretty much like paradise to me. And before the hotel, there were always parties to go to—my world had been so full.

It didn’t feel quite so full, now.

Sean was at his parents’ retirement party, likely watching Adrian take over the company in style. Vanessa and Ethan were out at a pumpkin patch and then off to a party of their own. I was at home alone, sitting on my couch with an old movie on TV, wondering when the hell life started to feel so empty.

After everything I’d been through getting clean, I felt that meeting Adrian again was some cosmic sign. It seemed so improbable that he would come back to town at all, let alone want to be with me. But somewhere in the past few weeks, I’d grown used to it. Even when I lay in my bed, all I could think of was the night we’d shared, and how caring and attentive he had been.

And then I’d remember the past week, and fill with guilt, and rage, and ultimately, a bitter sadness. And as I watched the hero and heroine on my TV screen kiss, finally ending up together after so long apart, all it did was make me cry.

I was sick of crying.

The truth was that I had to have some form of catharsis. I had to honor the memory of the times I had with Adrian, and then let them go.

I wiped my cheek hard with the palm of my hand, pulling in a deep breath. I already felt stronger for having made the decision, and now, I just had to put it to rest. I had to mourn the life I always wished I could have with someone like Adrian and then really, actually move on.

I crossed over toward my room and rummaged under my bed, extracting one of my larger sketchbooks. I stuffed it in my backpack along with my best pencils, and then before I could think too long or talk myself out of it, I left home.

I had never really even made a proper decision on where I was going to go. It was almost as if my body had just decided, and I was following suit.

I knew that it was in a lot of ways stupid to go by the Terrance Hotel. I could think of a handful of people who would probably be outwardly hostile to me if they even saw me on the premises. But I knew a place at the hotel where most people would never go, would never even think of slipping away to.

And so I made my way through the back alleyway, to the service lot, and then hopped over a row of flowers into the garden. Part of me expected to feel strange, being back, but really it just felt right.

I had always loved this garden. Something about it felt safe, even though it was so close to the source of so much turmoil. I could hear the faint sounds of the party going on inside, but I was sufficiently isolated from it. It was cold enough outside that no one was even in the back courtyard at all.

And so I put up the hood of my jacket, sat down on the grass, and pulled out my supplies. It still wasn’t too late, but the moon had come up over the skyline. It was just a crescent, silver and glowing over the city below.

But I wanted to draw a harvest moon.

For an hour, I sat and sketched. Weeks ago I’d sketched Adrian in bed for a few minutes, but this was the first long, dedicated session of drawing I had done in years.

I let myself work, completely absorbed. And something magical happened, without me even knowing it: I started to forget everything about the world around me. I forgot this was the Terrance Hotel, my former employer. I forgot about the pain that was my relationship with Adrian, and forgot that a big party for him and his parents was going on right near me.

All I thought about was the satisfying glide of my pencils across the paper.

And after a fair amount of time had passed, when I looked down, I saw a drawing that approached something beautiful.

It was rough, sure. I’d need to spend much more time on it before it became anything special. But I had drawn the garden in front of me—as I saw it in memory, as much as how I saw it in real life.

Most of it looked pretty true to reality: the trees, the rows of hedges and the magical quality of light that filtered through down to the grass. The stray stars that could be seen in the night sky, and the flowers that lined the edges of the clearing.

But there were a few things that I drew from feeling, instead of from reality. There were two figures at the bottom of the page, sitting near each other with a wine glass at their side.

And there was a harvest moon. Big and bright and almost yellow, low at the horizon. The moon from ten years ago, so different from the one there tonight.

It was how being in the garden felt to me. And I realized after I’d finished that it was exactly what I wanted it to be: a love letter to the idea of what Adrian and I could have been, but never would be.

It was something beautiful. Because real life couldn’t quite be that for me.

I set the sketchbook down next to me and I lay back on the cold grass, looking up at the night sky. I could see my breath in the air, but despite the cold, I knew I needed a moment’s rest.

It was the last time I’d be in this garden, and I knew it.

I lay for many minutes before I heard the faint sound of a door opening and shutting in the distance. I couldn’t tell where it had come from, but I knew it didn’t make much of a difference. No one came to this garden at night.

But a few moments later, it was unmistakable: the sound of someone crunching through leaves on the grass. I sat up, listening intently.

“Fuck,” I muttered, reaching over and stuffing my pencils into my backpack. As I was about to put my sketchbook in my bag, I heard a gasp from behind me.

I turned to see who was behind me, knowing that it was probably security.

“Oh my God,” I said. Adrian was standing there, in a suit and tie, with a glass of wine in his hand.

He was staring at me, equally shocked, and silent.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, standing up and walking back toward the parking lot.

“Wait,” he said, and when I turned back he’d taken a few steps forward, holding my sketchbook in his hand. “You left this. And… Jesus, Josh, you’re here.”

“I know,” I said. “I shouldn’t be.”

He shook his head slowly. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

I faced him, taking in a slow breath.

“Josh, I’m so sorry, and I mean that in every way possible,” Adrian said, shaking his head slightly as he took another step closer to me.

“You don’t have to apologize—I understand, you’re doing what you need to,” I said. “We don’t have to do this right now.”

“You deserve so, so much better than the way I have treated you. Afraid of my own fucking shadow, afraid of everything.”

I shook my head. “I know you’re… in the public eye, you need to appear a certain way. Seriously, Adrian, I’ve come to terms with it. I know you are going to find a wife. I’m okay. And I’ll be okay.”

“I’m not going to find a wife,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure everyone affiliated with the Terrance Hotel is well aware of that, after tonight.”

I furrowed my brow. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Josh, I need you to know that I’ve never felt for anyone the way I do about you.”

I sucked in a breath of cold air. “Don’t do this,” I mumbled. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I wasn’t even supposed to see you tonight—I’m just meeting Sean after the party—”

“And I didn’t think I would see you,” Adrian said. “I came out here to get a moment alone, to think about whether I should come over to your apartment and fucking beg for you to take me back.”

I stopped cold, just watching him. Beg for me to take him back? What the hell was he talking about?

“Adrian, we both know we can’t… be together. We can’t be anything. I’ve come to terms with it.”

“Maybe I haven’t,” he said. “And who says we can’t be together?”

I puffed out a sharp laugh. “You say it. Your parents. The hotel, the management, the goddamn investors that no one ever shuts up about—”

“Fuck ‘em,” Adrian said, his gaze unwavering. “Any investors who aren’t okay with me loving another man are probably already revoking their funds, as we speak.”

“What the hell happened tonight? What do you keep talking about?”

“I told them, Josh.”

I was silent, not quite understanding what Adrian meant.

“I told them everything,” he said. “I mean, I didn’t say that I loved your cock in my mouth, or that when you kiss me I feel like I’m on fucking fire, or that I’d never felt more at home than in your bed… but I told them that the most important person in my life was another man. And that I wasn’t willing to change that to fit their mold.”

I couldn’t speak for a few moments. “You… you told who?” I whispered.

“Everyone,” he said, gesturing back at the building. “Everyone.”

He couldn’t possibly mean what I thought he did. Could Adrian Terrance really have… come out, publicly?

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered. “You did that... for me?”

“I did it for myself,” he said. “I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again. God, Josh, I know you should hate me—”

“But what about… about the hotel, about all of it?”

“The hotel is going to be just fine,” Adrian said, shaking his head. “It always would have been just fine. I was just scared of everything—scared of my parents, the community, my own damn tail. It was nothing but my own cowardice. And when that hurt you, I couldn’t fucking take it any longer.”

“I can’t believe you did it,” I said.

“I did it because I love you,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact, but emotion pouring from his eyes.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“I think I’ve always known that I loved you, but I couldn’t put it to words. And I know you need to leave, and that your life will be better without me in it. But you have to know that I love you, Josh. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

I felt my throat getting tighter, and I swallowed hard.

“I know that I should have told you earlier about the layoffs. But I was fighting for you, Josh. I still am—”

I shook my head, searching his face. “I know. I know it wasn’t your fault, anyway. I just… when I left, last week, I thought I’d never see you again. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me, after the photos.”

He shook his head. “There was no one I wanted to see but you,” he said.

I felt like I was floating somewhere above the garden, looking down. I couldn’t believe any of this was real.

“I could never have done what I did tonight without you.” He reached out, squeezing my hand in his. His hand was warmer than mine, and it felt too comforting. He gave me my sketchbook with his other hand, and I took it.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. “You should paint it.”

And then he let his hand drop, and he turned to walk away.

I knew that if I were smarter, I should have walked away. I should have let it go, let him go, and moved on.

But I couldn’t do it. No matter how much pain there had been in the past, I knew that this was different. That if I turned and left, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

“Adrian,” I said, closing the distance between us. And when he turned to face me, I dropped my backpack to the ground, wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and pulled him in. I kissed him hard, a kiss that meant so much more than any other.

I kissed him to tell him I forgive you. To tell him that I believed in him, that I was willing to put in the work to build trust with him. That he was worth it.

He pulled me in so tight as we kissed, and after a moment, I tasted the faintest saltiness. I pulled back, seeing that a tear had fallen from his eye.

“Josh—you don’t have to—” he whispered.

“I think I do,” I said.

His eyes still had the slightest bit of worry.

“I love you, Adrian,” I said. “You’re a piece of work, and I know you know it. But I can’t fucking help it, either.”

He laughed softly, kissing me on the neck. “I am going to build trust with you, Josh, and I know it isn’t going to be instant. But if you’ll let me try….”

“I will let you try,” I said.

Another lone tear fell on Adrian’s cheek. “I should have done this so long ago. For God’s sake, why didn’t I do this months ago—ten years ago—”

“Everyone needs to take their own time,” I said, reaching to wipe his cheek with my thumb. “You don’t have to be ashamed of that.”

He shook his head. “But all that time without you….”

“We both needed to grow,” I said. “Lord knows I needed it, in so many ways. You’re not the only one who made mistakes, you know.”

He nodded. “I’m tired of living with mistake after mistake,” he said. “I don’t want to do it alone anymore.”

I took a deep breath. “Neither do I,” I said. I caught his lips in a kiss again, and for the first time, I felt totally and completely whole with Adrian.

There was still fear. There was still so much growing and building of trust that would need to happen. But he was finally there was an honest, true version of himself, and that was the only groundwork I needed.

And I wanted to show Adrian exactly how much I cared.

“Come home with me,” I said.

There was zero hesitation in his eyes. “There’s nothing I want more.”

I’d been naked in bed with Adrian before, and the first time had been hot and desperate.

Being under the covers with him on this cold night, my heart was liable to burst. I’d torn every piece of his suit off as soon as we got to my room, and he’d stripped my clothes off me one by one, kissing every inch of my body as he went along.

But now, both of us naked under the sheets, warming each other up, it felt like so much more than it had a few weeks ago. Because Adrian was really here with me—the real him, not someone who was afraid to be who he really was. It almost felt like being with a new person entirely. I knew every inch of his body, but now I felt that it was really mine.

I’d always been drawn to Adrian but I never could describe it. For a while I’d wondered if I’d only been wanting what I knew I couldn’t have—a man who was unavailable, closed off to feelings, unable to commit. But I realized now that all of those things were only a blockade, only something that kept me at an arm’s length away from him. Now that all those barriers had broken down, this only felt more special. Instead of just wanting Adrian, I now was allowing myself to need him.

It was a scary thing to admit—the fact that I felt I needed his touch, needed to feel what only he could give me. And that I needed to know Adrian was okay, too. For so long, I had worried about what was going on in his head. But now I knew that he’d been open and honest with me, and I could take care of him in a way I truly knew how. I could be close to him, I could love him, and know that he needed it as much as I did.

I ran my hands along the planes of his body as he lay next to me, from his chest to his hips, palming along his cock. I relished every sigh and moan that he gave me, and when I squeezed his hip, he rolled toward me, pulling me in his arms and kissing me deeply.

I could feel his cock along the side of my body, sliding against me, only making me need him more. I wrapped my hand around him, stroking him gently, but not for any purpose other than to feel him. He moaned softly at the touch.

I hadn’t known just how much I’d missed him the past week until now.

“God, I needed this,” I whispered, dipping to kiss him against his chest, still stroking my palm gently along his cock.

“I think I’ve always needed this,” Adrian said, his voice low and muffled, as if it was hard for him to even form words. “Needed you.”

“I didn’t think that was possible,” I whispered, kissing back up to his neck, the soft skin right above his shoulder.

I felt his thumb on my chin, tipping my face up to look at him. “Are you kidding, Josh?”

I shook my head softly, and he sighed, frustrated. “I was so dumb not to tell you every little thought I had about you. How badly I wanted you, how fucking hard it’s been to sleep every night since you left. I thought about you every moment, Josh.”

He pressed his lips to mine harder, as if he needed to show me how he felt.

And I needed to show him that I was here, too. That if he was willing to do the hard work of being open and honest, then I would give him all of me.

I turned over until I was on top of him, straddling him as our cocks slid against one another. He reached his hands around me as I rolled my hips, and he gripped my ass, stroking his fingers along me. I watched him below me, and he watched me just as intently, gazing up at me as his fingers slowly found their way to my hole.

I moaned a little, biting my bottom lip as he finally pushed against me. I dipped low again to kiss him, and as he stroked his fingers along my hole gently, it became clear I was going to need more.

“Jesus, Adrian,” I whispered, rolling my hips forward against him again.

“Hmm?” he hummed, pressing a little harder against me. I knew he was teasing me—he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Will you fuck me?” I asked, not breaking my gaze as I pushed my ass just a slight bit backward, against his hand. And the groan of pleasure it elicited from Adrian was almost enough to make me come right then and there.

“God, yes,” he said. “I will fuck you whenever and wherever you want.” His face had become flushed and he wet his lips as he stared up at me, and I teased him a little more, sliding my cock along his with a few more grinds of my hips.

“I want you inside me,” I said, watching the reaction on Adrian’s face, loving every last moment as I drew this out. Finally, I licked my thumb and reached down to swirl it against the tip of his cock, and he shuddered underneath me.

“You’re gonna kill me, Josh,” he said, laughing softly, taking a long breath in. “You keep touching me like that and I’ll come before I’m even inside you.”

I took my hand away, rolling off of him and over toward my bedside table. I retrieved my lube and a condom, and when I turned over again, Adrian was looking at me, his head propped up under his hand.

“I love you,” he said simply, his eyes sweet and pupils wide.

“I love you too, Adrian,” I said.