The ball was still well underway when the President managed to slip out. He hurried away knowing that if she caught him leaving, Harriet would come after him. He thought he would fall asleep the moment his head touched the pillows in that big canopied bed. He hoped he would dream, dream not of Nikolai but of Rufus, the love of his life.
But instead he lay on his accustomed side of the bed, this time in the Presidential quarters of the White House exhausted but far too keyed up to sleep. He had heard the clock chime the three o'clock hour, knowing that morning was both too long and too short a time for his weary mind and body. He congratulated himself on his promise, in his inauguration speech, not to run for a second term. He did not think he could take another day like the past one.
"Ah, Rufus," Buchanan sighed aloud. He patted the counterpane next to him. "I don't imagine they would have let us share this bed. But I still miss you and wish you were here."
As he lay on his back with his hands folded prayerfully on his chest he thought he felt the edge of the bed sink under some pressure.
"But Jamie, I am here."
James stiffened. He dared not turn his head toward the familiar drawl. "Rufus?" he croaked.
Wilde Oats is an online literary magazine. It celebrates gay and bisexual fiction. It embraces the joys and agonies of life for gay and bisexual men, from hard gritty realism to wild flights of romantic fantasy.
Wilde Oats has gone through some big changes in recent months: we have moved to a new server and changed our appearance. The journal is published three times a year - in April, August and December. Between issues, you can find out what's happening, read snippets of new stories, see new artwork, and keep up to date by visiting us here.