“I turned to face him. He shut his eyes and pursed his lips. Everything went slow motion as I pressed my mouth against his. His gentle warm lips filled my head. My body dissolved and I was only lips, pressed against the flesh of his. I could have stayed there for the rest of my life… I caught sight of his face – fresh, with chocolate-brown eyes, and a small, almost undetectable smile.”

– Holding The Man, Timothy Conigrave