Spark

Hugo looked up the few inches to meet Kevin’s gray eyes and tried to smile, but it probably came across as sad rather than happy. He couldn’t believe Kevin still thought of that day too. He wondered if Kevin’s mind ever drifted to the kiss in the wooded meadow when he was bored in a meeting, like Hugo’s had that very afternoon in the car. The corner of his mouth curled into something flirty, and he asked, “Oh?”

“Yes,” Kevin said as he thumbed a trail across Hugo’s jaw toward his chin. “I’ve thought about that day a lot, about our last kiss, and how I wish it never would’ve ended. Damn the rain. Would you mind if I showed you how I’ve always imagined that moment in the driveway would’ve happened?”

“No. I mean, yes, you can show me,” Hugo stammered, his heart beating hard against his chest.

Kevin’s smile lit up, and he looked so young then, the careworn lines that had appeared between his brows while talking about his father smoothing.

“So maybe this isn’t exactly how I would’ve said things back then, but this is how I wish I’d done it. Ready?”

Hugo nodded and licked his lips, drawing Kevin’s attention to his mouth.

“So pretend we’re standing next to my open trunk.” Kevin directed Hugo to the tail end of a car parked nearby. Kevin tilted his head left and right, shaking his hands out as if trying to get into character or get ready to spar.

“Hugo.” He somehow pulled youthful nervousness into his voice. “We should plan on getting together in a few weeks.”

“Sure,” Hugo answered, ready to play along with the conversation he barely remembered. He recalled the feelings he’d had, though: excitement about leaving Austin but sadness about leaving Kevin. “I can get a ride down to St. Peter, or you can come up to Minneapolis. It’s not that far.”

That drive never happened for either of them. Hugo auditioned for a play in the U’s theater department and was cast in a lead role as a freshman, something unheard of. He had no time to get together on weekends because he had homework to do and lines to memorize and blocking to learn and sets to help build.

“Seventy miles or so.”

That’s where Hugo remembered Kevin’s dad clapping his big hands and telling Kevin he’d better hit the road. Now there was only the sound of far-off waves to the left and traffic from the other side of the trees on the right, all peppered with exploding fireworks.

“I’d love that,” Hugo said, regretful he hadn’t taken the time to find a ride and just go. “I’ll make it happen,” he promised, and he wished he’d kept it.

Kevin looked at him with such intensity. Even in the darkness surrounding them, Hugo could see how blown Kevin’s pupils were.

“It’ll happen this time,” Kevin whispered against Hugo’s mouth, lazily closing his eyes as he spoke.

Hugo tasted Kevin’s breath on his tongue, remembering it, even with the faint scent of lemon lingering.

A silvery thread of his memory seemed to weave this moment to the past, pushing Hugo back into that world, filling him with all those emotions he had for Kevin when they were just boys.

Kevin was the only man Hugo had truly been in love with. He was the ruler every single boyfriend since had to unwittingly measure himself against. And none, not a single one, had ever gotten anywhere near.

Hugo took in a quick breath and pushed forward, capturing Kevin’s mouth with his own as his fingers threaded through thick blond waves and shorter razor-cut strands; his hands landed on Kevin’s neck and he squeezed to draw him closer. Hugo thumbed over Kevin’s ears, teasing the fine hair along his earlobes.

They fused their mouths, opening and closing, teeth nipping and tongues pushing against each other in an attempt to taste the familiarity that was new again.