Then his lips were on Darcy’s, and the other boy cupped Oliver’s face in his soft hands. They kissed, with rain pattering their faces, with their hair wet and heavy on their foreheads, with their rain-slicked skin slipping against each other. They kissed as Oliver’s tears mingled with the rain, as his heart filled with so much happiness he thought it might just burst, as warmth bloomed in his chest and spread across his body, like a mug of steaming tea in the dead of winter.
