Swift as a Coursing River | Ongoing

26. First steps

After dinner, Vincent stays for several more hours. They clean up together and Edwin is high on the domesticity, a warm body next to his, brushing hands, kissing just because he can. Vincent flirts and jokes and if Edwin thought he would stop blushing once his feelings weren't a secret, he guessed wrong. He might blush more, if that were at all possible, because Vincent doubles up on the innuendo. He draws a wet hand down Edwin's back and Edwin shivers. Edwin goes to change his shirt and Vincent drawls: "You're not taking it off in front of me, darling? Pity." Edwin shakes his head mutely and disappears in the bedroom before he combusts.

They sit on the couch with the TV on and Vincent slings a leg over Edwin's lap and loosely circles Edwin's shoulders with his arms. He kisses Edwin's neck up to his ear, down his jaw. Edwin's hands glide over Vincent's back, the muscles of his legs, up his stomach and chest, and Vincent pushes into the touch. They make out, wet and warm, ignoring the TV.

Vincent's hands stay away from anything more intimate — sexual — than that and Edwin is grateful for it. He doesn't know if he could push Vincent away, when it's on offer, but he doesn't want to go so fast. He wants to process, not rush into anything he'd regret. Hell, he might be rushing now, driven by lust. Sure, he wants Vincent, everything he can get, but is it a good idea? He never expected he'd get a relationship, and that's quite different from quietly pining. Vincent can be kind and thoughtful, larger than life, but his fire can burn as much as it can warm. He's a man. The first man Edwin has ever dated. He's only ever dated — properly dated — one woman, and he married her. Vincent has dated many people. He might have expectations. He thinks he might scare Edwin off. Maybe he wants to scare Edwin off and is only humouring him. Attracted to his body, but not his mind.

No, that's just the jitters and doubt of a new relationship. His first new relationship since he was nineteen. His first relationship with a man. He's chewing in circles again. You worry too much, Ellen would say. Something about how Vincent couldn't possibly dislike him, he's very likable, but she's Ellen. Of course she thinks that. Still, he shouldn't be so anxious. Vincent teases him, he knows that. He jokes, but he wouldn't lie about this. If he says he is willing to try serious, he means it. He won't scare Edwin off. This won't be the thing he can't handle. He's gay. He can date a man. Be out with a man. Even one like Vincent, who is loud and visible and unapologetic and everyone will know. People will judge, but Edwin shouldn't care. He can stop caring. He was out today with Vincent. People probably assumed. Judged. He wore nail polish. Caroline removed it last Sunday, but he can recall how it felt.

If he could do that, he can do this.

***

Edwin stares dubiously at the pottery wheel in front of him. He has a lump of clay, wet and soft, but he hasn't touched it yet. He's supposed to make a bowl. The instructor demonstrated a few minutes ago how to drive the wheel with your foot and mould the clay with your hands and she made it look easy, but it can't be that easy.

He glances to his right, where Vincent is testing out speeds and letting the wheel spin for a few seconds at a time. Of course Vincent is not afraid to try. He can make jewellery. That's probably more dangerous if something goes wrong than this. The only danger here is that they will get dirty. That's pretty much a guarantee, in fact. He doesn't want to ruin the brand-new jeans he put on after much internal debate. Vincent's appreciative look when he opened the door was worth it, though.

Vincent — wearing a tight, short-sleeved shirt that leaves his forearms distractingly bare — senses him looking because he stops and his eyes jump to Edwin's unmoving wheel and then his face. "You're not going to make a bowl by admiring me, darling. Even if I am much prettier than that lump of clay right now."

"I know." He's going to try. In a bit. It wouldn't be fair to Vincent if he sat here like a grump. It was Vincent's idea, but he said yes. He wants Vincent to enjoy this and if he doesn't stop scowling, Vincent will be annoyed. He thought he might be able to enjoy this, that he wouldn't completely suck at this and he would have fun. He can try new things. New things that are outside his comfort zone. Open mind, and all that.