by R. G. Angel
“What was your favorite piece of art tonight, Mr. St-Vincent? I’m eager to know as you are an art expert,” said a young woman with bright red lipstick and a flirty smile. I believe she was the daughter of my father's VP. Ah, poor girl trying to hit the jackpot; she was barking up the wrong tree.
“My favorite painting? I’m glad you asked.” I returned her smile. My plan was going even better than I'd hoped. “My favorite painting is by Grayson Clay, but it was not part of the Saint Exposition. It was a painting done before, now a part of my private collection.”
Grayson's eyes widened with realization a moment before I revealed the painting.
Caleb sniggered as some people gasped. That asshole was enjoying my coming out, but I also knew he would have my back just like Archie, Taylor, and Esme.
The room was eerily quiet as I looked up. Most people were frozen in surprise.
“This is called Euphoria and it’s a post-orgasmic painting of me in case you couldn’t tell by the dazed look upon my face.” I smiled at Grayson. “A look he’d put there.”
His eyes widened and he blushed redder than a lobster. What? He did not want to be my secret anymore. He’d have to accept the flamboyant Antoine then.
“Well, you’re one lucky bastard,” Archibald chuckled.
“I know.” I looked at the painting, my naked self lying lazily on the bed, my arms above my head, my cock sadly hidden under a white bed sheet, which was a shame really - my cock was a piece of art all by itself.
The tension was overwhelming, but the eventual help came from the corner I hadn't really expected.
Caleb turned toward Grayson. “Could you paint Esmeralda post-orgasm too? She is also a vision, let me tell you. I’ll take a pic.”
Esme gasped and punched him in the arm. “Yep and you’ll enjoy that painting during your cold, lonely nights once I dump your ass for pulling that stunt.”
“I would never babe. I love you too much and your post-orgasm glow is for my eyes only.”
Archibald gagged. “If only that was true. I’ve seen it way too many times to not suffer from PTSD.”
Caleb threw him a predatory smile. “Not my fault if I’m a stud.”
“Oh, for the love of God.” Esme winced under her father’s glare.
I was grateful for the diversion. I'd missed my friends, and right now they were my saving grace.
“Antoine, I don’t think this is the right place for this.” My father kept his voice neutral, but his eyes screamed murder.
“Why not?” I forced a carefree chuckle. “If this is not the right place to tell the world I'm proud of my boyfriend, I'm not sure where is.”
I avoided looking at Grayson. It’d been a dick move and I knew it. He’d broken up with me, but I'd claimed him anyway.
People looked at me with various states of surprise, some including anger. My parents? They were looking at me with mortification, but somehow I couldn't care less. I'd thought it would matter, but it didn't. I was free. The weight on my shoulders had lifted and it was priceless.
I looked at my friends with a smile to reassure them, to show them that I was happy with what I had done, but Caleb was having a stare off with my father, his eyes menacing, his jaw set. It was a look I'd not seen Caleb sport recently, but it was a look I used to know. One that promised a world of pain.
I met Grayson’s eyes half-daring, half-begging. Don’t let me down. Please, Gray, I know I failed you, but please.
Grayson looked heavenward before coming to join me. He smiled, then leaned down and pecked my lips chastly.
“I’m going to make you pay,” he whispered, but his voice lacked heat.
He grabbed the champagne from my hand and drank it with a smile.
“Thanks again and enjoy the rest of your evening.”
The room remained frozen until my friends started clapping and cheering, bringing the room out of their stupor.
“We need to talk,” Grayson said quickly as my friends made their way toward me.
“I know,” I replied.
Taylor stopped in front of me, her eyes full of happy tears. “I’m so proud of you!” She beamed, pulling me into a hug.
I hugged her back, meeting Caleb’s and Esme’s eyes behind her. Both looked at me with various states of admiration - something I’d never expected to see on Caleb’s face as far as I was concerned.
I let go of Taylor when I felt a hand tighten painfully around my bicep.
“Antoine, mon fils.”
I winced under the pressure of his fingers despite my wish to remain stoic.
I turned my head and met my father's murderous eyes. “Please follow me to my office.” He smiled for the curious bystanders.
“I don’t think I will,” I said.
“Antoine, tu ne peux pas être une tapette. Je n’accepterais jamais un fils pédé.”
The pain was soaring, his rejection far more bruising than I'd anticipated. Being disowned and called a faggot and a poof in the same sentence by one's father was bound to hurt even the strongest of souls.
“I don’t think I will.”
“What did you say?” Grayson asked, the edge in his voice clear. He reached for my hand, entwining our fingers together and taking away some of my pain.
“Nothing worth repeating,” Caleb interrupted, keeping his eyes locked on my father. “Remember our chat, Jean-Pierre. Remember your place.”
My father looked at me for a second more before shaking his head. “It’s over,” he whispered threateningly.
“See if I care,” I replied calmer now - most likely due to Grayson’s hand in mine.
“I think I’m ready to go for now.” I turned to Grayson. “Do you have to stay longer?”
“No,” Grayson answered as Caleb shook his head.
“I’ll get the car,” Esmeralda offered.
Caleb kissed her forehead before she grabbed her brother’s arm and left the room.
Caleb’s eyes never wavered from my father.
“You can expect me in your office first thing on Monday, Jean-Pierre.”
He finally turned toward me. “Ready?”
I nodded and left the room without a look back at my parents. They didn’t deserve any more attention.
“Are you angry?” I asked Grayson as we settled into the back of a limousine.
“Why?”
“For making you my boyfriend again?”
He frowned, thinking for a second. “That depends on how our conversation goes.”
I nodded. “That’s fair.”
I looked ahead at my friends sitting in the limo and hoped they knew how grateful I felt. Taylor had even thought to get my painting delivered back to her home before we'd left.
I knew my father would have burned it, and I would have been heartbroken as I planned to hang this piece of art in our bedroom.
Grayson leaned sideways. “For all that matters, I’m extremely proud of you and I love you.”
I smiled at him and suddenly all the sadness and worry lifted.
I was loved and supported. I didn’t need anything else.
Chapter Fourteen
The rest of the drive was relatively silent. I was still a little dazed about what had happened. Was I homeless now? Well, no because I still had the apartment in Paris and it was in my name, so there was that. I could sell it though... Yes, I would do that and move to Oxford.
I wondered how much I could make from the apartment. It was worth three million, but I could -
“A?”
I shook my head. The car was now stopped in front of the Astor’s mansion. Only T and Grayson were in the car with me now.
“You okay?” T asked, leaning toward me, her hand on my knee.
I smiled. “I am.”
“Come on, St-Vincent, move your ass and come inside. I need a fucking drink,” Caleb barked from outside
I nodded. “I need a drink too.”
After we walked to the library, Caleb went straight to the bar. He filled a few glasses
before gesturing for us to help ourselves.
Grabbing a glass, I took a sip. “It’s going to be okay,” I told my worried friends. “I mean Grayson and I are going to be on a tight budget with only my trust fund to get us by, but I think if we can limit our spending to two million a year, we’ll have enough to last a lifetime.”
Grayson frowned. “Only two million? Antoine, how rich are you?”
I looked at Caleb. How could I answer that?
Caleb shrugged. “Not as rich as I am or even as rich as she is -” he pointed to Taylor - “but probably as rich as the Roses’ before they got screwed over by their business manager in Schitt’s Creek.”
Grayson turned to me. “You’re that rich?”
“You understood that?” I asked, pointing at Caleb. “How?”
“I can speak like common people now.” Caleb beamed, wrapping his arm around Esmeralda’s neck and pulling her toward him to kiss her temple. “She is teaching me.”
“Eww, David!” she exclaimed and they laughed at an inside joke I didn’t get like.
“Your love is gross.” Archie sighed.
“No, it’s cute,” Grayson added, then blushed when they all turned toward him.
“Welcome to the family, Grayson Clay.” Caleb extended a glass to Grayson.
Grayson emptied it in two gulps. “Thanks, I guess?”
I didn't want him to face all my friends at once - not before our conversation, not before I was certain we were fully committed again. Caleb and Archie were enough to scare anyone who was not from the same social class.
“You wanted to talk?” I asked him.
“What? Ah, yes. Do you mind coming to my room?”
I snorted. If he knew what I was planning to do to him in his room...
“To talk, Antoine.”
I shrugged, burying my hands in my pocket. “Initially, yeah.”
Grayson rolled his eyes.
Archie chuckled. “Smooth, brother, real smooth.”
I winked at Archibald before gesturing Grayson toward the door. “Lead the way.”
He nodded. “Thank you again for tonight,” he said to my friends before exiting the room.
I walked behind him, but stopped by the bar. “Can I?” I asked Caleb, pointing to the bottle of vintage scotch on the mahogany bar.
“Be my guest. You will need it more than me.”
Nodding, I grabbed the bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other, then met Grayson outside of his bedroom door.
“So really, on a scale of one to ten - how mad at me are you right now?” I asked once we closed the door behind us.
He turned around and detailed me.
“I told you, you didn’t have to do this. That it wouldn’t change anything.”
Okay, this wasn't going as well as I'd hoped. I rested the bottle and glasses on the dresser by the door.
“Do you want one?”
He shook his head.
I sighed. “Don’t mind if I do.” I felt like I would need to be drunk by the end of this conversation.
I helped myself to a double dose of scotch, looking at him as he stared at me in silence. He had yet to answer my question. I needed to know how much begging I had to do.
Yes, I was not above begging as far as Grayson was concerned.
“So we’re still over?” Saying those words slashed my heart. They'd hurt me more than my parents had disowning me.
He shook his head. “No, it’s -” He sighed, running his hand through his hair, probably as confused as I felt. “I love you, Antoine. As infuriating as it is, I love you, and you doing your coming out or not for that matter hasn't changed my love for you.”
My heart swelled with hope. “What are you saying?”
He shook his head and walked to his bed. “What I'm saying is that I'm proud of what you did today and heartbroken for you all at once. You shouldn’t have to alienate a part of your life to be with me.” He turned and fixed his eyes on me. “To be with anyone.”
“I know that, but that's not your issue or even mine.” I pointed in the general direction of my parent’s mansion. “They couldn't accept who I was, who I wanted to be. I was miserable, Gray. I was getting smothered, but I was okay with that until I met you, until I saw your relationship with your parents, how much they loved you and were proud of you. That is what it’s supposed to be like.”
He nodded. “Always.”
“You told me about your dreams for us, Gray. I want them too. I just hope that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me for what I did. I can’t promise I won't try to intervene again, fight to help you get whatever you deserve because I will, but there’s something I can vow now - I will never lie to you that way again.”
“Before we can move forward, there’s a few things I want to say.”
“Okay.” Whatever it was he wanted, I would agree. When it came to Grayson, I had no shame.
He leaned down, pulled out a Berluti shoe box, and put it on his bed. It was a box that was familiar to me. It was where I'd kept all my notes for Grayson.
I scowled at the box. Taylor Oppenheimer was going to get her sweet ass kicked.
He opened the first folded note. “I too am unable to sleep well at night ever since we'd broken up. I miss the nightly calls we made when we were separated. Your joyful voice was always calming to me. You kept me anchored even during my artistic bursts. And I’m not ashamed to admit that I even bought a small bottle of your ridiculously expensive cologne just to put a few drops on the pillow beside mine so I could imagine, just for a minute, that you were with me as I fell asleep.”
I couldn’t speak. I had a hard time swallowing past the lump of emotion that had formed in my throat.
He dropped the note and reached for another one. “Me too. I was ready to let go of all my principles to be with you and that’s what scared me the most.” He looked up at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Once the initial anger and betrayal had faded, I started missing you in such a visceral way. I shamefully considered being your dirty little secret and I hated myself for that, truly. I’m out and proud and yet, I would have followed you into the closet because freedom didn’t taste the same without you.”
“You’re the love of my life.” I didn't even recognize my own voice. It was breathless and pained.
“I was getting to that.” He took another paper, his hands trembling slightly. “I love you, Antoine. I love you in ways I've never thought were possible and it seems that - as painful as it is to admit - when it comes to you, there’s no sin you could commit that I would not forgive.”
I took a couple of tentative steps toward him, unsure I was understanding him correctly. I’d wanted to hear those words for so long.
“I’m just scared you will regret it one day, that you’ll wake up and look around and hate that you'd picked me over all of this.” He gestured around the room.
“Easiest choice I’ve ever made, Grayson Clay. All of this money? It's never made me feel half as happy and fulfilled as just one of your smiles. Never made me feel as elated as one of your kisses.”
“I’ve never stood a chance,” he admitted with a rueful smile.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m still in this with you. Even when I said I wasn’t, I still was.
“Oh, thank God!” I let out as he closed the distance between us.
I cradled the back of his head and pulled him to me, kissing him gently, reverently despite the fiery passion that was overtaking my senses at the taste of him. A taste I’d missed and craved more than anything in the world.
“Are you okay with me just being...me?” I asked, resting my forehead against his and keeping him tightly in my arms.
He brushed his lips against mine. “What do you mean?”
“I’m basically poor now.”
He chuckled, wrapping his arms tighter around me. “Antoine, love. If you can live spending two million a year and still have enough to last a lifetime, you’re anything
but poor.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “My parents are upper middle class. They have a great life, everything they would ever need, and they make £100k a year.”
“How can people live on that little?” I asked with incredulity.
He shook his head with a tender smile. "I’ll show you. You’ll see, it’s great.” He kissed me hard. “And it doesn’t matter if you have millions or pennies. All I ever wanted was you - just you. Only. Ever. You.”
I realized it was all I ever wanted to hear - that I was enough. Me - just me, Antoine St-Vincent, and I was blessed. I was enough for him - the love of my fucking life.
What’s meant to be, will be. Taylor's voice rang in my head before I finally opened the gate of my passions and kissed Grayson with all the love and desire I felt for him.
A love and passion I knew would only grow and strengthen over time.
And when we made love to each other that night, it didn’t feel like a tryst of passion. No, it was a commitment, the union of our bodies and souls.
Grayson Clay, British Apollo and genius artist with a brave heart and pure soul, was mine, completely mine. Just as I was his.
Epilogue
Eighteen months later
“This is bloody ridiculous!” Grayson huffed as I tightened the tie I’d used to blindfold him.
“Gray, you promised,” I chastised, but I knew the lightness of my tone gave me away. I was just too happy to hide it.
I was also incredibly nervous, but I was doing my best to hide it. I needed everything to be perfect.
After helping Grayson into the car, I slid into to the driver's seat.
“No peeking!” I requested as I locked my seatbelt and checked his.
“It’s going to snow tonight, love. Why don’t we stay home? I’ll cook you lasagna, your favorite, and then we can watch Lucifer on Netflix.”
I threw him a sideways glance, impressed with his bargaining skills. “Are you throwing in a blowjob?”
He smiled at that. “We both know that’s a given.”
I sighed, resting my head on the headrest. Any other night, I would have been halfway up the stairs to the apartment, but not tonight. Tonight was much more important.