Their evening plans were simple—a local seafood place called Byram’s for lobster tail and fresh oysters, then maybe a movie in Carytown. Vic wasn’t completely sold on the movie, but Matt thought maybe he could change his lover’s mind about spending two hours in a darkened theater.
By quarter to six, Matt was dressed and anxious to get to the restaurant. He’d heard Byram’s could fill up on a Friday night, and he hadn’t thought to make reservations. Calling now in the hopes of snagging a table would probably be too late. He smoothed the hem of the polo shirt he wore down into the waistband of his khakis and trailed into the bedroom to see what was keeping Vic.
His lover was dressed in a pair of jeans, nothing else—no shirt, no socks…even the jeans were still unzipped. As Matt came in, Vic
