by Aiden Bates
"Oh. Him. Yeah." Brantley took away Allen's modesty pillow. "Yeah, I missed what we had together. I didn't think you'd take me back, so I tried to move forward. Every time I tried to kiss him, I saw your face. I couldn't do it. I tried. I did, but it wasn't going to work. I wanted you too much."
Allen bit his lip. He shouldn't let this happen. He should be angry, or something. He couldn't remember anymore. "I have something I need to tell you."
Brantley peeled the blanket back to Allen's hips and bent down. His soft lips touched the skin of Allen's belly, still mostly flat. "I heard." He kissed Allen's belly again. "I'm happy. I'm not here about the baby. The baby kept me from chickening out, but it's not why I'm here. I'm here because I love you. I don't want to lose you. The thought that I could get sent back to Jamaica and never get a chance to tell you made me sick, Allen."
Allen stroked the side of Brantley's face. "Are you sure you want this—want me? Us? I don't want you to be trapped, Brantley." He swallowed. "You're amazing. I don't want to hurt you. And I don't want to tie you down."
"You couldn't." Brantley huffed out a little laugh. "Being scared tied me down. That's not going to go away right away. I'm not going to be… I'm not always going to be comfortable about things like making out in public."
Allen blushed. "I'm honestly not a big fan of public displays of affection, either. A little handholding is fine. We can paw all over each other later, in private."
Brantley waggled his eyebrows. "We're in private now." He ran his hand up Allen's thigh, outside of the sheet.
Allen took in a sharp breath. It felt nice to have Brantley's hands on him. Was it just hormones making him overly emotional, or were those same hormones driving his desire to new heights? Or was he just over-analyzing everything, again? He knew he had tendencies in that direction. He should just let himself go and enjoy the moment.
He trusted Brantley. Brantley was there for him.
Brantley peeled the sheet away. Allen didn't stop him. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He looked into Brantley's eyes and reached out until Brantley bent down and kissed him again. He could feel every bit of Brantley's body as it rubbed against his. The hard line of his cock, wrapped in the warm cotton of his jeans, made perfect friction against Allen's bare skin.
Brantley found the lube without much trouble. He left it on the nightstand, accessible and available so they could find it when they needed it. Then he got rid of his own clothes. Allen lay back with his head against the pillows and watched, breath bated, as his lover removed garment after garment. Tomorrow, they could worry about putting them away. They could worry about getting the rest of Brantley’'s clothes from his house, too.
Or maybe Allen was getting ahead of himself again. He focused on the handsome, lean man in front of him and parted his legs. "I need you, Brantley. Please."
Brantley smiled and reached for the lube. He stretched Allen slowly, lovingly, like it was an enjoyable part of the act for him. Allen tried to hold himself back, but he wound up crying out as Brantley found a perfect spot inside him that made him see stars. When he slicked himself up and slid himself home, he hit that spot again, and again.
If Allen thought he'd had good sex before, he'd been sorely mistaken. Brantley outdid himself tonight.
Later, when they'd both come down from their post-coital high and they lay together in the big bed, Allen sighed happily into Brantley's chest. "Do you think we'll be okay?"
"I know we'll be okay." Brantley stroked his head. "We've got each other. Sadie, that goofball dog, is right there on the floor and I know she's going to hop right up onto the bed as soon as I close my eyes. Then, tomorrow, we'll go and fetch Alaina from those two heathens that are watching her right now. And we will be all right."
Allen smiled. "No more evil agents?"
"No more evil agents." If Brantley kept stroking his head, Allen was going to have to think about getting him a dog of his own. "No more evil agents, no more pretending. No more hiding things because we think the other one doesn't want to know." He kissed Allen's forehead. "Of course, we'll have to go back to sleeping with pants on."
"Naturally." Allen laughed.
Allen could believe, finally, that everything really would be all right. He drifted off to sleep, holding on to Brantley just as tightly as Brantley held on to him.
When he woke, much later the next morning, Sadie had wormed her way into the spot Brantley had occupied in his arms. She licked a stripe up his face and wagged her fluffy tail.
Allen groaned. "Ugh. Sadie, come on. Gross." He sat up and rubbed at his face. There was no sign of Brantley in his house. Was it possible that last night had just been a dream?
He got out of bed, a little gingerly. Someone was in the kitchen. It would either be Brantley, or Carter. Just in case, he pulled on some pajama bottoms. Even if it was Brantley, pants were a good thing. The mailman could come by. A nosy neighbor could come along to borrow a cup of sugar or something. The evil agents could come over, again.
When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he looked to the left. Brantley was there, just like he'd always been. He was making that porridge he liked while the coffee brewed. Last night had been real. Thank God, or whoever watched over people like him and Brantley.
Brantley looked up. "Good. You're just in time. Carter told me to make sure you were fed and watered, so here we go."
Allen groaned. He was never going to learn to love the porridge. When he took his first mouthful, though, he found he was starving for more. "Holy crap. I think the baby likes it."
Brantley beamed at him. "I told you! You've got a little Jamaican growing inside you right now. If you want him to grow up right, big and strong with good hair, you've got to feed him right."
"Pizza's not right?" Allen let his eyes go wide and innocent.
"Pizza? Bite your tongue." Brantley shook his head. "Actually, I did feed your niece and nephew pizza one day, when your dad was sick. We were all having so much fun while we were out and about I thought, 'What's the worst that could happen?'"
"What was the worst that could happen?" Allen watched his lover move.
"Lactose intolerance. I don't eat a lot of dairy, so it hadn't come up before." Brantley laughed at himself. "My God, it's good to see you this morning."
Allen walked over and wrapped his arms around Brantley's waist, from behind. He rested his head on Brantley's shoulder for a moment and just held him. "Let's try never to be apart again, okay?"
"It sounds like a plan." Brantley squeezed his hand. "Now let's finish breakfast. I have a whole list of errands I want to get through before we go collect that beautiful baby girl of ours."
Allen gasped. "Say that again."
"Er, beautiful baby?"
"No, not that part."
"Errands?"
"Now you're just being difficult."
Brantley laughed. "Ours." He turned around. "Is it… is it all right if I move back in? Or is it too soon?"
Allen kissed him on the lips. "Brantley, if you want to move back in you can move in right now. Tonight. It will be perfect. We'll all live here together."
"Until we get a place that's maybe a little bigger." Brantley held his hand. "I know you don't like change. But we'll have two children now. Maybe we'll have more, who knows? And we'll have your niece and nephew coming over, and maybe some other guests, too."
Allen looked around. He loved his condo. It wasn't exactly family-friendly. "I didn't exactly think I was going to be expanding my family so quickly when I bought it." He sighed. "Can we get a place with a fenced in yard?"
"Absolutely. And I'm hiring someone to mow the lawn." He shuddered. "I made money when I was in college doing lawn work. I did my time. I never want to see another weed whacker as long as I live."
"It sounds like a deal." Allen would miss the old place, but Brantley was right. They needed more space for their growing family.
It was a good problem to have.
They finished their breakfast and did the dishes.
Then, after a brief interlude in the shower that threatened to derail their entire day, they headed down to Brantley's place.
They loaded Allen's car up, once again, with Brantley's clothes. Allen was ready to check in with Carter and Finn, but Brantley had other ideas. He wanted to go to Armory Square first. "It might be the last child-free shopping time we have together for the next twenty years," he pointed out. "Come on, we might as well take the time."
Allen sighed. He felt completely irresponsible, but he couldn't deny Brantley anything right now.
They found parking and walked around a little. The galleries had their usual wares. Allen wasn't a ‘decorating" kind of guy, so most of it was lost on him. They saw some lovely glassware in one of the antique shops, but the glassware was a little lost on them right now. They moved on to an "artists' collective," someplace that sold handmade crafts from mostly local artisans.
Allen walked along the walls, admiring blankets and tableware. He didn't entertain much, but maybe he would in the new place. Maybe they'd host Thanksgiving. Allen certainly had a lot to be thankful for. Maybe they could convince Fabian's family to come down from Canada, too, so Brantley wasn't just stuck at the table with a bunch of people who had no connection to him.
"Hey, Allen. Could you come here for a moment?"
Allen approached. Brantley was standing at the counter, looking at—
At jewelry?
"Allen, what do you think of these rings here?" Brantley pointed to two rings, of white gold. "They might be a little plain."
Allen broke out in a sweat. "We're not flashy guys." His mouth had gone dry. Could he be misinterpreting Brantley's words? "Either of us."
"No. We're not." He tilted his head to the side. "Even wearing rings, I think, might be just flashy enough. But do you like them?"
"I do." Allen nodded. "They're nice. Classy. Understated."
"Do you." Brantley swallowed and took Allen's hand. "Do you want them?"
Allen went for broke. "I do."
The salesman, who wore a terrible red Hawaiian-print shirt, grinned. "Okay, say it one more time, but save it for the judge or the church door. Congratulations, you two."
Allen barely heard him. He only had eyes for his fiancé.
They had faked it until they made it. Everything was real now.
***
Not everyone was thrilled with Allen and Brantley's decision to get married. Janine, for example, was livid. "He used you to get a green card, damn it!" she spat. "Why can't you see that?"
Brantley didn't respond to the barb. It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't entirely a lie, either. He hadn't done right by Allen, not by any stretch of the imagination. Not in the beginning, anyway. The middle part was rough, too. These people were Allen's family, and Allen had depended on them for a long time.
Of course, how long had they been depending on Allen? As far as he could see, the balance of payments was a little too tilted in Allen's direction. "I volunteered, at the time." Allen set his jaw and met his sister's eyes. "I was in a bad place. I needed to feel like I'd done something good for someone. Like I'd fixed something, instead of just borne witness, I guess.
"I wasn't expecting to fall in love. I wasn't expecting Brantley to be as wonderful as he is. And believe me, Janine, Brantley is an amazing man. Ask Harper how amazing he is. Which one of all of us is the one who encourages her to pursue her dreams of being a scientist, hm? And gives her a way to achieve them, instead of telling her she doesn't need to worry about that 'math stuff?'" Allen raised an eyebrow at his sister. "And who is it that taught me how to cook?"
"He used you!" Janine insisted. "Doesn't that bother you?"
"Mmm hmm." Isabel nodded. "He did use him, Janine. You're right. Of course, how often do you drop the kids off with Allen at a moment's notice so you can go do your historical re-enactment stuff? Come on. Allen just helps people. It's in his nature. It's what he does. He likes to do it, and frankly it keeps him off the streets." Her eyes turned wicked. "Of course, now that he'll have two children at home, maybe he'll turn the tables a bit. Maybe you'll take a turn or two babysitting."
Janine blushed bright red, and Brantley kept his mouth shut.
Allen and Brantley were married quietly, by Judge McCaskill. Neither of them wanted a lot of fuss. They just wanted to have it done and over with, and to make sure nothing else popped up to come between them. Gupta and Idoni stood as witnesses. They could have a party, like a reception, after the baby was born.
Luke, now that the dust was settling, wasn't thrilled about having been kept in the dark about the real nature of Allen and Brantley's relationship. "I'm upset." He shrugged. "I get why you had to do it. I'm mad at Jason, too. Don't worry, I'll get over it eventually. I just—I was the only one, of our little group, who didn't know. And that definitely stings."
Allen couldn't say much to soothe that ache. "I'm sorry. I know it hurts. I wish we could have done it differently. You're a great friend, and you've been so supportive through all of this. I feel like a colossal jerk about it all."
"You should." Luke just shrugged and took off.
He stayed away for a little while, but he couldn't back off completely. Allen was, after all, his midwife. By the time his baby was delivered, over the cold Syracuse winter, Allen and Luke were close friends again.
Brantley's immigration status was now secure, but he decided he didn't want to take any chances. He started the process to become an American citizen. It would remove the threat of deportation, once and for all. Of course, he'd thought his grant of asylum would also remove the threat of deportation once and for all. He probably should have questioned the assumptions he'd made when he showed up in Boston as an unaccompanied minor.
The process wasn't easy. It wasn't designed to be easy. Brantley's first language was English and he had a hard time with some of the items on the exam, and the amount of bureaucratic red tape he had to climb over felt insurmountable at times. Allen was at his side the whole time, encouraging him and supporting him.
He was made a permanent US Citizen on December 31. Allen was there, cheering him on. He'd even gotten permission to bring Harper and Ethan. Harper was reasonably interested in the process and the ceremony. Ethan was more interested in the game he played on is iPod, but Brantley didn't blame him. The boy was six.
Alaina grew. The stability in her environment allowed her to thrive in ways her pediatrician hadn't expected, and Allen said a person would have to truly know what they were looking for to see any difference between their little angel and a "normal," full-term baby. She was awake and alert for longer periods now, and she had a bouncer she loved to play in. Sometimes she would bounce herself right to sleep.
The Internet was full of pictures of Alaina, passed out in her bouncer.
No biological relatives ever surfaced to claim her. One was located, a probable sixth cousin on her mother's side. He was found serving life in New Hampshire on a multiple murder charge. Social Services investigators, along with Allen, went out to New Hampshire to ask about the man's family and whether any of his relatives might know Alaina's mother.
The man had looked at the picture of Alaina's birth mother. He nodded once. Then he said, "The baby's alive?"
"She is. She has a loving foster home, but State policy is to keep families together wherever possible."
The man grunted. "I'll tell you the truth. I don't know that woman. You tracked me down to prison, where I'm doing life. You think I got this way out of the blue? Look at my record. Ain't no one in my family should be anywhere near a kid. If she's in a good home, you keep her in that good home."
Allen nodded. "She's in my home."
The man huffed out a laugh. "Awesome. I hope you live long and healthy lives far away from this mess." He waved his arm as best he could, indicating the walls around him.
Allen came home shaken, but he was allowed to officially adopt Alaina. Soon after, Brantley was added as Alaina's other father, and they were officially the Powells.
; Allen made a point of sending that inmate a card and a gift at Christmas and on his birthday every year. The connection was tenuous at best, and Brantley tried to point that out for the first few years. Allen just laughed. "It doesn't sound like he's had a very happy life, Brantley. We can let him know someone outside is thinking of him, at least?"
Frank Gottlieb was formally dismissed from his duties as a federal agent days after the charges against Brantley were dismissed. That was a good thing, of course. Gottlieb had wasted government resources persecuting Brantley not because Brantley was here illegally, but because Brantley was gay. Neither Brantley nor Allen thought firing was sufficient for him, but it was what they could get. They would have to be happy with it.
Gupta was not of a mind to be happy with it. He found a like-minded journalist with a prominent national paper, and together they revisited every case Gottlieb had ever worked. For the past twenty years, Gottlieb had made a point of pressing every case he could that involved LGBTQ+ asylum seekers. He was more than willing to skirt rules, or ignore them all together. Brantley had learned this to his own detriment, as had Allen.