I can’t believe the sword is made of… moon

Griffin smiled at the message when he woke up the next morning. Judging by the timestamp, Charlie had stayed up pretty late reading the book Griffin had lent him.

He mentally pat himself on the back – both for making it through their first lesson without mishap (well, further mishap after the brake incident), and for convincing a skeptical Charlie that Moonsword would change his mind about fantasy. While silly in concept – a barbarian finds a sword that falls from the night sky and uses it to vanquish creatures descending on Earth from the dark side of the Moon – Griffin loved it for its heart and campy charm. He hoped Charlie would too.

He was also acutely aware that Moonsword was rife with queer subtext. The barbarian joins up with a troupe of freedom fighters – all men – who live, and eat, and share quarters together. They brand each other joyfully, bonding to each other for life as they defend the night. He wondered if Charlie’s mind would race at the unspoken whispers between the lines like his had.

Griffin wrote him a message back.

It’s right there in the title, buddy.

He felt… weird about using the word buddy. Something about it felt right and wrong at the same time. It offered him a certain amount of distance or aloofness. But it also made him feel a twist in his gut – the same twist he’d felt many times before when being dismissed or teased by guys his age. He wondered if Charlie knew that feeling. He hoped he hadn’t just introduced him to it.

He sat up in his bed and immediately grimaced. Charlie had been right – he did have a bruise in the center of his chest.