Queer bent bastard

“Yeah, it is,” he responded with a grin.

Just then, Kent came wandering to the kitchen. “You guys doing okay?” he asked.

“We’d be doing a hell of a lot better if you guys were in here helping instead of standing outside the patio doors gawking at us,” Kyle responded.

Kent just stood there for a second before his face lit up like a five year old’s on Christmas morning. In an instant, he had Kyle wrapped up in a smothering hug. A minute or so later, when he finally released him, Kyle gave him an equally big grin and asked, “Do you always grab people who are holding sharp knives and hug them? ‘Cause if you do, one of these days you won’t have to worry about having kids anymore.”

“Shut up and hand me those onions,” Kent replied, laughing. He then looked up at me and as tears momentarily reappeared in his eyes, he mouthed, ‘Thank you.’ I just smiled.

About an hour later, we were picking our steaks off the barbecue and sitting down at a picnic table on the deck. Anyone walking in on us would have thought we were all tapping into some spiked punch. The air around the table was absolutely festive. Everyone was laughing and joking and giving each other a hard time. Kyle was right there in the middle of it all. That was one more thing to take note of: he was definitely NOT shy. After we finished eating and cleaning up, everyone grabbed a drink and flopped down on the lawn. We were all in that ‘I just ate the best meal of my life’ mode, and just lay there quietly looking at the stars.