They woke up early the next morning, still intertwined, and Mike could have spent the rest of the day right there, stroking his hand over Stephen’s flat belly and wondering if they were done with the clinic now, if they could have the answer they wanted at last, if they could start their future instead of just talking about it. Maybe the autumn would bring more than just the new term this time.
But Stephen complained, because the sod was a complete freak with an inability to just be for more than twenty minutes at a time, and so Mike was roused from his happy post-coital stage, and bullied back out into Barcelona.
Well, sort of.
They spent the whole day at Montserrat.
The monastery was beautiful. The views were stunning. They took a cheesy selfie with the Spanish countryside rolling aw
