Grayson shrugged. “There’s no real way to prove emotions like love unless it’s written down—like, if there was a love letter. Otherwise, you could never prove it. There are plenty of late-nineteenth- and early-twentieth-century photographs of men being affectionate—tender, even—and it doesn’t matter. It’s about what you can prove.”
Grayson thought for a moment, realizing something that had always been in his mind but he’d never spoken aloud. “There’s no room in queer history for same-s*x romantic love or intimacy that isn’t also provably sexual.”
“And they don’t do that for straight couples?”
“No.”
“So what if we did it differently?”
“How so?” Grayson was already thinking about it, though—the logistics of it and theory behind it.
“I don’t know, what would you do if they were straig
