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: : : IN BED, IN THE DARK, Paul puts his arms around Scott, pulls closer to him. He presses his face against the nape of Scott's neck and inhales through his nose.
—You smell nice, says Paul.
—What do I smell like? Scott asks, sleepily.
—You smell like you.
—Describe it, says Scott.
—I can't describe it, says Paul. He breathes again. —It's partially your shampoo—
—Hemp-enriched, Scott murmurs.
—Yes, darling, I know. But it's also just you—the smell of your body.
—My B.O.
—No! Paul says. —Not B.O. It's not like pungent—it's just—
—You like the smell of my B.O.
—OK, Paul says. —Yes.
—You're nice, Scott says.
Paul squeezes him tight.
—I'm so happy, Paul whispers. Saying it feels terrifying.
—Mmm.
—You have to promise me, Paul says.
—OK, Scott says.
—You have to promise that you won't leave me.
—No, Scott says. —No leaving.
—I don't want to go back, Paul says. —To who I was. Before you. I can't go back to that. That loneliness.
—No, Scott says.
—I couldn't go back.
—No.
—I'm so scared that you'll leave me, Paul says.
—But I promised.
—I know, says Paul. He gives Scott's neck a little kiss. —But people change—
—No, Scott says. —No changing.
—OK, Paul says.
—OK?
—OK.
Paul listens to Scott's breathing grow deep. He holds him. He holds him. No change. That's what he wants. Give him this night as a perfect loop and he will stay inside it forever, happy. He does not need to know what the future holds. He knows that the future is where things complicate. He wants things to stay uncomplicated, like they are now, him holding Scott, breathing in his smell. Scott smells nice.
The next thing Paul knows, it's morning.
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