ALEX FINDS HIM ALONE, eventually, in the kitchen, restocking the beer in the fridge.
“I’m glad you came,” Paul tells him, offering him a cold bottle.
Alex takes it. “Thanks,” he says, both for the drink and for Paul meaning it.
Paul regards him in silence for a moment. “How are you?”
“Here.” He doesn’t know any other way to articulate his current state of being in all its forms.
Paul laughs, loud and surprised like he sometimes does. Alex grins back at him. Paul’s smile stays and his eyes meet Alex’s and linger. Alex knows he’s doing the stupid squinchy-eyed thing that so many people apparently find attractive. He turns his head away a little, not sure what he should be expecting or wanting out of tonight yet.
“Hey, no.” Paul raises his hand and presses two fingertips, dry and warm,
