Arthur felt another jolt of excitement-dread as Selwyn’s hand closed around his wrist. This was the point where things would shift, he knew — he could leave now and it would still be like nothing had ever happened. He would be just another man who almost cheated on his wife. There were plenty of men who almost cheated on their wives and didn’t. He could leave now and still be — not a good person, he had passed that point a while ago, but an alright person. Someone he could live with.

He let himself be led out of the main room of the party. As soon as they were out of the main room, Art had an impulse to push Selwyn against the hallway wall and kiss him — guilt over Desdemona quelled it, but not enough to have him pulling away. Instead he was hovering close to Selwyn, closer than he would have stood under other circumstances, close enough to catch the smell of his cologne again.

”Where are you taking me?” Art asked, tone a little playful — in a rich person big country house like this one, Selwyn could be leading him anywhere, but he had a suspicion as to the type of room. He knew where he would be leading Selwyn, if this was his house — if he was the sort of person who did this regularly. (He wasn’t supposed to be the sort of person who did this at all. He wasn’t unfaithful. He’d flirted with Valerian but that had been habit — had that just been habit? had it meant something? — but if he touched Selwyn, actually touched him, then he was the sort of person who would be unfaithful.) 

(Except — if he wasn’t an unfaithful person he would have backed out a while ago, right?)

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