Fate noticed the way Dante was looking at him. “Do you understand?”
“Are you speaking English? Hell, Fate, you can talk ‘til your blue in the face and it changes nothing.I’m still made of sulfur, brimstone, and fire. How could you care about someone like me, Fate? I’m a friggin’ freak.”
Fate looked at him for a moment, feeling sorry that his friend, the man he had come to feel so close to, had to go through this hell. “God, Dante, I don’t give a fuckin’ damn what you are, or what that is running around in your veins. I still feel the same, and I always will.”
“You ought to throw me out, Fate,” Dante whispered.
“Yeah, well, you know how stupid I am. Slow on the uptake, I always have been.”
The two of them chuckled for a moment, and then suddenly they got serious as they began to drift into each other’s arms, their lips meeting, and lingering in a hungry kiss.
“Oh, yes. Oh, God, yes,” Dante responded breathlessly as the two of them sank toward the bed.