A pleased little exhale escaped him as Selwyn pressed him against the door, and one of Art's hands moved to the outside of Selwyn's hip before he was even thinking about it.

This was, Art knew, the last chance he really had to back out of things. This wasn't the sort of thing he would be able to rationalize, if anyone asked him about it — he'd been faithful to Dez for years, there was nothing in his head making him do this, people who were unfaithful were really just hurtful to their spouses. He was better than that. He should be — had been — better than that. This wasn't even habit-flirting, like with Harriet Prewett (bad, but who could blame him) or Valerian (bad, but just letters.)

Dez loved him.

He wished that Selwyn had just kissed him, had taken this beat of having to decide away from him. Arthur couldn't pretend he wasn't involved here.

Dez loved him, but — they had not touched each other for months, and even when they had she was not pushing him against doors. A decade ago he would not have let time pass at all, would have just gone for it — and maybe that was what decided him, because he moved his other hand to the lapel of Selwyn's jacket, tugging him closer, and closed the space between their lips.

---

The following 1 user Likes Arthur Pettigrew's post:1 user Likes Arthur Pettigrew's post
   Angelica Selwyn