It's very late when James comes home, but Robbie is still awake. He's sitting on the sofa in his pyjamas, smiling at the telly.
"What's got you in such a good mood?"
"It's just nice to see some happy people in the news."
"What's that?" James asks.
"Programme on marriage equality in the States, and that Supreme Court decision. Aside from covering all the legal and political palaver, they're showing some of the newlyweds. There were two blokes in Texas, in their eighties, been together more than fifty years."
"It's about time they caught up with the rest of the civilised world," James says and sits down beside Robbie on the sofa. There's a montage of public celebrations, rainbow flags waving, and everywhere, faces bright with joy.
"What the-?" Robbie blurts out. "Is that a real copper?" The man certainly looks like a typical American cop in his blue uniform, handcuffs and radio hanging from his belt. Only he's waving his peaked cap in the air as he dances with one of the marchers, a man in a lavender t-shirt with a colourful logo. "Is that what the kids call twerking?"
"I think so," James says. In a dark club, their exaggerated pelvic thrusts and flailing arms might seem erotic. In the sunlit street, it's clear that these are just a couple of young blokes having a laugh. The dance ends. The marcher leans forward to give the grinning cop a kiss on the cheek before rejoining the parade.
"What do you suppose Innocent would say about that? On duty and in uniform, I mean."
James purses his lips. "The Chief Super does frequently emphasise the importance of community-oriented policing."
A snort of laughter is Robbie's only reply.
James murmurs, "As Virgil said, 'Amor vincit omnia, et nos cedamus amori.'"
"In the Queen's English, please?"
"Love wins."
"I don't have to be a Latin scholar to know you're leaving something out."
"Love conquers all, so let us surrender to love."
"Sounds like a wise man, this Virgil."
"If you'd care to join me in the bedroom, I'd be happy to elaborate on the topic," James says in a decent imitation of his stuffiest Cambridge lecturer.
Robbie shakes his head. "Nah, I'm not one for lectures. Prefer the hands on approach, myself."
James nods. "Aristotle observed in his Nichomachean Ethics that we learn by do―mpppff!" The rest of the quote is lost as Robbie's lips press urgently against his.
When they finally break off the kiss, Robbie says firmly, "That's enough Latin for now."
"But―"
"Don't see much need for English, either." Robbie leads James into the bedroom and proceeds to demonstrate just how much can be communicated without spoken language.
James has to admit that the demonstration is very convincing. For the next few hours, the only sounds that he utters are wordless moans of desire and delight, and it isn't until teatime the next day that he finally remembers to mention that Aristotle wrote in Greek, not Latin.