Page 120 of Ancient History

TWO YEARS LATER

In the spot where I was standing, ancient Romans conducted regular market activities thousands of years ago. There was a whole civilization doing the same things we did today: running errands, going to market. Gladiatorial fights were essentially ancient football games with extra blood splatter.

I walked around the ruins, eroded blocks of tan rocks that had once housed advanced structures. Patches of grass grew around stone pathways. Tourists milled about around me, headphones in on their audio tours, taking picture after picture. I didn’t need pictures. I just wanted to experience being here.

I closed my eyes and imagined being a Roman back then conducting business at the market. What kind of conversations did they have? Did ancient Romans smalltalk and have petty grievances with each other like us modern folk did? What would they think about us treating the crumbling remnants of their market as a historical landmark?

Warm, assured hands massaged my shoulders.

“Whatcha thinking?”

“Just wondering about our ancestors.”

“And if they really used bathhouses as gay sex joints?”

I spun around and kissed Hutch quiet. The man had gone full tourist with a Rome T-shirt and fanny pack. Bud had insisted he wear one since wallets could easily be pickpocketed.

Yes, somehow, by the grace of God, Hutch made a fanny pack sexy.

“So what is the official word on Romans having gay sex like it was nothing?”

“You are obsessed with Roman bathhouses.”

“I’m a curious learner.”

This guy. I wasn’t much better, though. When we watched sports on TV, ninety-nine percent of my comments were about the players’ asses.

“Roman men were allowed to have same-sex sex without being ostracized from society but only if they took on a dominant role. So basically, Romans were bottom shamers.”

“Nothing to be ashamed about.” Hutch gave my ass a surreptitious squeeze.

From his fanny pack, he pulled out a bag of Skittles and poured candies into his hand. He picked out the greens and yellows and handed over the rest to me.

“You can eat any color you want,” I said. “You don’t have to keep doing this.”

“I know I don’t.” He smiled as he popped a green Skittle into his mouth.

Once the bag was empty, and we washed the sugar residue off our hands, we continued ambling through the market ruins as I continued to explain what market life was like in ancient Rome. He did his usual thing of spinning my wedding ring around my finger while caressing my palm. Sweet and sensual. We got married three months ago in Aguilar and Clint’s backyard amid blooming, fragrant apple trees.

When I first decided to save up money for a trip to Rome, I never thought I’d be coming here on my honeymoon. We waited until the school year was over to visit.

“Speaking of bathhouses, did you know that the town Bath in England got its name because Romans had built bathhouses there? They also built over 55,000 miles of road that still exist in the UK.”

Hutch had gotten used to me droning on during this trip. I was his own personal tour guide whether he liked it or not. He pretended to act interested and never tried to shut me up.

“Please tell me if I’m rambling,” I said self-consciously.

“I love when you ramble. You’re passionate about this stuff, and I love seeing you in your element.”

That was how I felt listening to Hutch talk about soccer and watching him on the sidelines at games. I wasn’t a sports guy, and I’d never seek it out on my own accord, but Hutch’s passion rubbed off on me.

“I can’t believe I’m here.” I craned my neck around, still pinching myself that I’m in Rome. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Quite literally. Hutch contributed to the travel fund, helping us get here faster.

“Where to next?” he asked.

“You mean for lunch?”

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