the whipcream parlor

Billy’s hands were full of the fabric of his sweater as he waited in the airport terminal. He was surrounded by wives and girlfriends, husbands and children of the soldiers who were slowly emerging from the thresh hold. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to act like these women, wouldn’t be able to throw his arms around the man he loved as he walked through. There was protocol and having to hide and all things that came with being involved with a gay man in the military. But Billy’s heart was so full and he was so anxious to see Teddy again after countless months of worry and letter-writing. The idea of not being able to get more then a ‘welcome home’ slap on the back until they got back to their apartment was torture. But Billy would resist if it meant keeping Teddy’s cover up.

And then he saw him. Tanned from the desert sun and hair looking lighter then he remembered, but it was him. Billy shot up out of his seat, but resisted the urge to throw his arms around Teddy’s neck and kiss every inch he could. Teddy’s eyes found him, and Billy didn’t have time to be disappointed at not being able to kiss him, because in only a moment Teddy had thrown down his rucksack and wrapped his wonderfully strong arms around Billy’s back and shoulders.

Others stared and as Billy was kissed and kissed back the man of his dreams -his loyal soldier- neither of them really cared.

“Welcome home, T.” Billy whispered into the sandy smell of the crook of Teddy’s neck. Teddy smiled against Billy’s hair.

“I’m home, B.”