Benjamin woke up early the following morning, feeling content. A dim light seeped in through the window. John had rested quietly all night, and was still sleeping next to him, his head resting on his shoulder. Ben leaned over and touched John’s forehead with his lips. It was cool.
He smiled, tenderly stroking his hair, remembering the time he’d stayed at Jack’s sickbed, in Montserrat. Jack had had an infection that threatened to take him away from Benjamin.
How could he lie there, next to John, without getting swept up in that old, but never forgotten, love? But whether this man was Jack or John, he took Ben’s breath away.
The bustle out in the street had picked up when John finally stirred. Benjamin smiled at him, his eyes filled with light and energy.
“Good morning! How’s my favorite
