Just holding his hand shouldn’t have given Garrett an erection, but it did. Warm and strong, Eron’s hand wasn’t that much bigger than his, but big enough to engulf it. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe and comfortable, his hand in Eron’s.
Garrett had watched westerns with his grandfather on Saturdays, but had never actually paid to go to see one in a movie theater. Garrett probably enjoyed the music more than the actual film. There were parts where he closed his eyes and just listened as the orchestrations painted a picture of the American Old West that only an Italian composer could.
Garrett was in the middle of one such meditation when Eron settled his shoulder against his own. Garrett sunk deeper into his seat and enjoyed their touch, just like at the diner. Only Eron co
