Our wild explorations took us to a greasy diner on the outskirts of Queensbury. A few miles turned into ten and when I pulled my ancient Civic into a gravelly drive leading to the metal doors of Athena’s, I was starving.
I watched out of my windshield, through a soft drizzling rain, at the intimate camaraderie between Pete and Devon playing out amidst the vehicles on the lot.
Pete leaned in to Devon with puckered lips, pecking him on the cheek, his mouth wandering to Devon’s mouth—smooch, smooch—but Devon held him off with a hand to his chest.
The architecture of Pete’s bare muscular chest glinted with sweat and rain. His hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. He wrapped an arm over Devon’s shoulder, said something that made Devon laugh. The two of them headed to the main doors.
Dev
