They shared a cigarette in the darkness. There was a little light from the streetlamps that shone through their bedroom window. It made the smoke look like cloud dragons. Dylan ran a hand idly up to Owen’s chest, gently flicking his nipples.

“That was pretty good, for a first time,” Dylan said.

Owen snorted. “First time?”

“Well, give me a bit of a rest, but I’m not done loving you yet. Hand me my pants, will you?”

Owen reached down and grabbed them. “What for?”

Dylan stubbed out the cigarette and reached into his pants pocket. He pushed the pants aside and took Owen’s hands. “I have something else for you.”

“No,” Owen said. “You already gave me a beautiful ring,”

“That was part of your Christmas present, turkey,” Dylan said. “This is something else.” He dropped something cold into Owen’s cupped palms. Covering them, Dylan leaned over and kissed Owen softly on the lips. “I want you. I want to wake up next to you, I want to fall asleep with you, I want to love you.”

Owen’s heart sped up; it felt as if his blood began to pump thickly. Where was this going? Was Dylan going to break up with him already? He had heard these words before, and they had always preceded the breaking of his heart. Had the other shoe fallen so quickly? Shit, he should have moaned more, or maybe dressed better, or—

“I want to live with you,” Dylan said.

Jolted out of his speculations, Owen looked down. In his cupped palms sat a small silver key ring. On the key ring was a small lock and key charm. Owen looked up at Dylan, who said, “I had these made at the same time.”

Owen picked them up. “What are they keys to?”

“My apartment. I love you, and I want us to live together. It’s not home without you.” Leaning forward, he kissed Owen again quickly. “Will you live with me, Owen?” Dylan asked.