A Question of Taste

It didn’t start out as their first argument. It was a Sunday afternoon, the Florida heat creeping and humid outside. In their motel room, the AC was cranked up, the TV was turned low. Steven had one leg looped over Conrad’s thigh and he listened to the other man’s heartbeat, steady as a metronome. Oh, this feels so good. So right. Three months since the undercover operation. Three months of night’s in Conrad’s bed. Three months… together. Steven sighed and stretched. His contentment being in Conrad’s bed surprised him. As odd as it sometimes felt to wake in the night and realize that another man held him, there was something special and precious about this. He knew Conrad was dozing, could tell by his slowed heartbeat. Out of curiosity, Steven had counted one morning when Conrad was st