The rainbow snippets rules are simple: post six sentences from a WIP having to do with gay/lesbian/any variate there of stories. I’m happy to break the rules, so it’s nine this time.

This is from Like People, a historical novella, taking place at the very end of WW2, I just sent to Manifold Press, and they accepted it.

No edits yet, so read at your own risk.

It had been such a good day, that day in the spring of 1943. He had been stupid enough to think that enjoying a bit of sun and fresh air… Fuck it. He was horny as hell, the water in the creek was cold but refreshing and the farmer’s son from Bavaria looked…approachable. In fact, he had been downright inviting, and since invitations by handsome men were far and few between, he had considered it worth the risk. Not too clever, but achingly beautiful he had been, the farmer’s son from Bavaria. He kissed as if no one had ever told him that kissing another man was perhaps the worst of all. Animalistic rutting could be almost excused when no woman was to be had, but such tenderness as he had shown was unacceptable.  But Karl had accepted it. Not an hour later, the farmer’s son had died in a partisan attack.