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Chinese leftovers, or orange juice of questionable vintage. But he eventually found some ingredients that did satisfy him, and he fried up eggs with cheese and served lots of buttery toast on the side.
    Travis half expected Drew to head home after breakfast. Instead, Drew peeked out the kitchen window to see the sun shining brightly, then made a gesture that Travis understood immediately. “You want to go for a walk? Sounds good to me.” He hid a smile and pretended not to notice when Drew snuck his last forkful of eggs into Elwood’s dish.
    The two men didn’t hold hands as they strolled down the sidewalk, but they kept their bodies close enough to occasionally bump shoulders. The sky was bright blue, the air was crisp, and every tree they passed showed off its autumn finery like a drag queen on stage. A paid holiday was always a nice thing to have, but this particular day truly felt like a gift to Travis, like something wrapped in shiny paper with a great big honking bow.
    There was a park just a couple of blocks from Travis’s apartment. Sometimes he jogged through it, but this was the first time he’d passed through at a leisurely pace, smiling at the little kids screaming on swings, stopping to pet a large dog with a happy tail, even sitting on a bench for a while with Drew and just sort of basking. Three old ladies sat on the bench opposite them, chatting away in Vietnamese. Travis smiled at them too. He didn’t feel restless. Didn’t feel like there was someplace else he was supposed to be.
    It was Drew who moved first, elbowing Travis to get his attention and then miming eating and drinking. Travis consulted with his stomach, which informed him that it was lunchtime. “Yeah, I could go for a bite,” he said.
     
     
    T HE staff at the café obviously knew Drew. The waitress brought him hot tea without having to ask and nodded when he pointed at his menu choices, which he made very quickly. Travis had to consider a while longer before settling on a steak sandwich with home fries. The food was delicious, and afterward nobody seemed to mind that they spent a long time sitting there, lingering over coffee and tea, reading newspapers and pointing out articles each thought the other might enjoy. The entire situation was almost absurdly domestic, and Travis was shocked at how desperately his heart clenched over it, how greedily his soul wished it would never end.
    But their time at the café ultimately came to a close, and they set off to walk a while longer. They stopped once in a bookstore—which carried several of Drew’s titles—and once at a bakery, where Drew bought a loaf of bread and some bagels. Travis purchased a giant chocolate chip cookie and shared it with Drew as they wandered.
    It was with considerable dismay that Travis realized they had arrived at Drew’s house. His mood changed quickly, however, as Drew dragged him inside. They sat on the couch, Drew messing around with his guitar and a couple of new songs.
    “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Travis said when Drew paused to tighten a guitar string.
    Drew frowned at him, not understanding.
    Travis waved his hands around vaguely. “The… this.” He wasn’t sure what words to use and was deathly afraid to use the wrong ones. “Being with another guy for… for a while.” He licked his lips nervously.
    Drew looked at him for a long time, his expression unreadable. Finally, he leaned the guitar against the couch, padded across the floor—Travis found his bare feet unaccountably sexy—and stopped at one of his bookcases. He pulled out a book, but when he brought it over, Travis realized that it was a photo album. Drew leafed through the first several pages, which were of a little boy with mischief in his blue eyes, and the boy’s father who looked much like Drew did now, and a woman in glasses.
    “What happened to your mom, Drew?”
    Without even pausing, Drew ran his hand across his neck.
    “Oh. She died too. How old were