From Brussels, With Love

by Emy Calirel

  Trevor put his arm around Jerome’s shoulders. “It’s a good one. They look very happy. You must have had a good time there.” The holidays were always difficult now, and melancholy hit Jerome hard. Trevor must have felt it, because he tightened his hold on Jerome.

  “Are there any embarrassing pictures of you?”

  When Jerome looked up, it was clear Trevor was trying to distract him.

  “I’m confident I can find one in a photo album for you. Later, though.” He stepped away from Trevor just long enough to face him and put his arms around Trevor’s neck. “Right now, I just want to enjoy this.”

  A new song started on the radio, and Trevor smiled. “Care to dance with me?”

  Jerome chuckled, feeling so warm and loved he was a little afraid it was all just a dream. Sounds of cooking filtered in from the kitchen, and part of him thought he should go help his mother, but he couldn’t resist Trevor’s offer.

  “Sure.”

  They didn’t so much dance as just sway together, Trevor’s hands splayed on Jerome’s back, their gaze locked together.

  Trevor’s voice was soft when he spoke, as gentle as the atmosphere surrounding them. “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”

  Jerome’s mouth was suddenly dry, and he licked his lips. “I love you,” he said quietly. “Thank you for being here with me today.”

  Trevor beamed and kissed him, soft and tender. When he pulled back, his clear eyes were bright. “Me too. Being here with you, love, is the best gift Christmas ever brought me.”

  Jerome was the one closing the distance between them this time, his fingers brushing the hair on Trevor’s nape as he kissed him slowly. The air smelled like fresh cookies and Trevor’s cologne, and Jerome closed his eyes, losing himself in the embrace.

  “IT’S NOT what I expected,” Trevor said when Jerome joined him.

  He was sitting on Jerome’s bed, unlacing his shoes.

  Jerome closed the door behind him. “I told you dinner wouldn’t be anything fancy.”

  “Dinner was great. I was talking about your room. When you said we would be sleeping in your childhood bedroom, I expected… I don’t know. Posters on the walls or something. Maybe an outdated wallpaper and a bedspread with motorcycles on it.”

  “Motorcycles?” Jerome came closer and straddled Trevor’s lap. Trevor shrugged, his hands on Jerome’s hips. “There used to be some posters. Mainly of musicians and some reproduction paintings. I took everything down when I moved out. Never had a motorcycle bedspread or funky wallpaper, though,” he said, nosing along Trevor’s jaw, enjoying the mixed smell of Christmas food and Trevor’s own scent.

  Trevor hummed and turned his head to capture Jerome’s mouth into a kiss. He slipped his hands under Jerome’s shirt, caressing his back.

  “Please, tell me there’s not a hands-off rule here.”

  Jerome bit Trevor’s lower lip before pulling away. He stood up and threw his shirt over his head. “No. As long as you don’t scream.”

  Lust flashed in Trevor’s eyes, and they made quick work of undressing. Jerome turned on the side lamp before going to turn off the main light. Trevor was bent over his suitcase, and when he straightened, he had a small bottle of lube and a condom in his hands.

  “You were hopeful, I see,” Jerome teased.

  “I’m always hopeful when it comes to you.”

  Jerome pulled Trevor to him. “Come here.”

  They lay tangled on the bed together, kissing lazily and caressing each other. Jerome had expected them to have sex hard and fast, like they usually did the first time when they hadn’t seen each other in a while, but he was in no hurry, and Trevor didn’t seem to be either. It wasn’t just passion and lust burning between them, it was love and intimacy. Despite their full erections rubbing against each other, setting Jerome’s nerves alight, he couldn’t bring himself to move faster or pull away.

  Trevor was the one who broke their kiss. He was under Jerome, his body firm and warm, his fingers in Jerome’s hair.

  “I want to be in you tonight,” Trevor said, bringing his hands down Jerome’s back to rest at the top of his ass. “Be in charge of your pleasure and make love to you.”

  Jerome hesitated for a second. He hadn’t given up control in bed in a long time, not even when he bottomed. Hadn’t made himself that vulnerable in years. There was nothing but desire and love in Trevor’s eyes as he waited for Jerome’s consent, though. He knew Trevor wouldn’t hold it against him if he said no and decided to stay on top. So Jerome nodded and let Trevor roll them over on the bed. Jerome pulled him back into a deep kiss, opening his legs and raising his knees for Trevor to settle in between.

  Jerome reached blindly for the condom, wanting to put it on Trevor, but paused before he opened the foil packet. Trevor held himself up on his elbows, looking down at him in question.

  “You know….” Jerome cleared his throat. He turned the packet between his fingers, entranced by the sight of the foil catching the light. “I’ve been tested since my last relationship before you.”

  “I never went bare with Ronan, and have been tested too,” Trevor said, his voice suddenly thick.

  Trevor put his hand over Jerome’s, stopping him from turning the packet over again.

  Jerome finally looked back at him, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “I want to feel you tonight,” he breathed. “I want to feel just you.”

  His bottom lip caught between his teeth, Trevor searched his gaze. Finally he plucked the condom from Jerome’s hand. There was no trace of doubt in his expression as he threw it away from them before leaning down for another kiss.

  Trevor took his time, driving soft moans from Jerome’s lips as he prepped him while trailing kisses all over his body, setting his skin on fire. Jerome was already breathing faster, his cock leaking on his stomach when Trevor finally pushed into him. The knowledge there was nothing between them warmed Jerome to his core, and he closed his arms around Trevor, their bodies flush together as Trevor started moving.

  They made love slowly, moving in tandem, their lips brushing between gasps and sighs, their connection so intense it was frightening. Nothing existed but them and that moment in time.

  Jerome tightened his grip on Trevor’s shoulders, his breath quickened, and he closed his eyes. He was losing control, and for the first time in forever, he let it happen. Surrendered it. Trusted Trevor would catch his pieces and put him back together again.

  “My God, you should see yourself,” Trevor groaned, closing his hand around Jerome’s hard cock and stroking as softly as he was thrusting. “You’re so beautiful right now. So amazing.” His voice caught, and Jerome could feel Trevor’s body tremble against his.

  Jerome’s world was all pleasure and Trevor. The way he smelled of cologne and musk. The way he felt: his body surrounding Jerome as they held each other close. The way he sounded as his own orgasm built.

  Jerome pulled Trevor into a kiss to muffle his cry as he finally came, his climax as intense as their lovemaking had been. Trevor joined him a second later, pushing himself deep into Jerome and thrusting a couple more times before he stopped.

  The need for air forced them apart, and Trevor dropped his head onto Jerome’s shoulder, his breathing hot against Jerome’s neck. Jerome kept his eyes closed, too afraid to open them and break the spell. He felt so safe. So cared for and loved.

  “Je t’aime,” he whispered.

  Trevor shifted so he could speak but didn’t pull away. “Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  BEFORE HE knew it, Jerome sat in Trevor’s car, traveling down the wrong side of green roads. The car was large and clean, the leather smooth under Jerome’s hands as he nervously rubbed them over the sides of his seat. They hadn’t even made it to Trevor’s place, just picked up Trevor’s car from the airport parking lot before driving east.

  Spending Christmas with Trevor had been amazing, but now that he was about to meet Trevor’s family, he wasn’t sure what
to expect. The closer they got to Trevor’s hometown, the more Trevor became tense and quiet, his jaw set and fingers tight around the steering wheel.

  “We can always leave if this doesn’t go well, right?” Jerome finally asked, unable to stand the heavy silence any longer.

  Trevor startled and glanced his way. “Of course. Are you having second thoughts about meeting my family?”

  “No, but you’re making me nervous. You look anxious.”

  “Sorry.” Trevor reached over and put his hand on Jerome’s thigh. “I’m happy to see my mother, and she was really excited about meeting you. I’m just… I’m worried about my father and brother. They can be real assholes. It’ll be fine as long as you don’t pay attention to what they say, though. I’m sure we’ll have a good time.”

  Trevor didn’t seem convinced, but Jerome let it slide. “Stick with your mother and ignore the men in your family. Got it.”

  THE SUN had already fallen by the time they finally parked in front of a two-story house. Contrary to Jerome’s childhood home, no Christmas lights twinkled from the windows and no apparent decorations brightened the place. The garden was unkempt and overgrown, weeds almost entirely covering the paved path leading up to the front door. Half-dead vines clung to the façade, the once-white paint flaky and completely gone in places. A small and dirty old car took up most of the driveway, and a rusting bike rested against the wall near the front door.

  “You grew up here?” Jerome asked when Trevor didn’t move or say anything.

  Trevor nodded. “My bedroom is the second window to the left,” he said, pointing at it. He rubbed his hands on his thighs, not looking away from the house. “The outside is bad, but the inside is worse. It’s not… it won’t be like your mother’s house. It won’t be clean and tidy and smelling like fresh cookies.”

  Jerome reached for him, his hand on Trevor’s cheek. “I don’t care what it looks like.”

  Trevor sighed and leaned closer, kissing Jerome before he put their foreheads together and closed his eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m just gathering some strength. I won’t be able to kiss you or hug you with my father around.”

  Jerome rubbed his thumb on Trevor’s cheek. “I’m still gonna be here with you. And whatever happens, I’ll still love you.”

  Trevor sighed deeply and nodded before he pulled away. “Come on,” he said, opening his door. “Let me introduce you to the McGills.”

  TREVOR’S MOTHER was nothing like Jerome had imagined. Small and frail, she was a lot shorter than her son, but there was a hardness to her. She looked like she had seen the world and wouldn’t let it bring her down. Her gray hair fell messily around her shoulders and she wore faded jeans and a worn brown cardigan. Her eyes, as blue as Trevor’s, lit up when she saw her son, and she threw her arms around him, forcing Trevor to bend down for a hug.

  “Hiya, Mom,” Trevor said, closing his arms around his mother briefly.

  “Who is it?” a gruff voice asked from inside the house.

  “It’s Trevor and his friend,” Molly called back when she pulled away from Trevor. She kept her hand on Trevor’s arm and smiled at Jerome.

  “Man or woman?”

  Trevor visibly tensed, and Molly’s smile became strained. “You know damn well Trevor has men friends.”

  Trevor’s dad grumbled something Jerome couldn’t make out, and he forced himself not to reach for his necklace.

  “Come in,” Molly said, ushering them inside before she squeezed Jerome’s arm. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Jerome. It’s not often we get to meet Trevor’s friends. We’ve already eaten, but there’s some dinner left for you in the kitchen.”

  Molly turned around and disappeared down the hallway before Jerome could even say thank you.

  The house was big but crowded, with large dark wooden furniture and random objects everywhere. It had clearly not been dusted in a while, but the floors were clean, and it smelled of food and, strangely, citrus.

  Trevor put his hand lightly on Jerome’s back and led him to the living room. It was as messy as the entrance, with the large TV blasting commercials. A big broad man with dark hair and a bushy beard, wearing sweatpants and a dirty jersey, sat on the couch with a beer in his hand.

  “Dad?” Trevor called, stepping away from Jerome. “This is Jerome. My boyfriend.”

  Elias glanced their way and Jerome unconsciously straightened under the scrutiny. Cold, slightly unfocused eyes looked him up and down before Elias nodded.

  “Trevor, you should come down more often. Your mother could use your help here.”

  “Yes, Dad. I know,” Trevor said, sounding defeated.

  Elias went back to watching TV, completely ignoring them. Trevor briefly laced his fingers with Jerome’s and pulled him toward the kitchen.

  “Come on, let’s have some dinner. Mom is a decent cook, and I smell shepherd’s pie.”

  Chapter 19—Trevor

  TREVOR DIDN’T relax until he closed his bedroom door behind him. Seeing his family through Jerome’s eyes had been rough. A lot harder than he thought it would be. His father had behaved himself but had been drunk as usual, and as much as Trevor loved his mother and was happy to introduce her to Jerome, nothing had felt easy or comfortable in their interaction. Spending time at Brigitte’s had made the mess that was his own family that much more striking.

  Jerome glanced over his shoulder when the door clicked shut, before turning back toward the wall. The room was covered in pictures and faded posters of actors and movies, the football and rugby comforter Trevor had as a teenager still on the bed.

  “That’s not how I imagined your room.”

  “How did you imagine it?” Trevor asked, taking his shoes off.

  Jerome shrugged. “Don’t know, really, but this is a strange mix.” He nodded toward the boxes stacked in the corner next to a folded treadmill. “It looks untouched since you left, but still used.”

  “When I left, Dad wanted to turn my room into an office. Mom refused to touch anything, so this is their compromise. Nothing changed in twenty years, but it’s used as storage now.”

  Trevor slid his arms around Jerome from behind and put his head on Jerome’s shoulder, taking comfort in his presence. Jerome laced his fingers with Trevor’s but didn’t say anything. He was looking at the pictures still taped to the wall, of Trevor and his friends in high school. Trevor hadn’t looked at them in years, had almost forgotten about them. They had been taken before he was out, and he had lost touch with most of the people in them. Some he still saw in Dublin on occasions, while a couple had sided with his brother Erwan and not accepted his sexuality.

  Jerome was quieter than usual.

  “Are you okay? Was it my dad?” Trevor asked, his stomach rolling.

  “No. It’s all this.” Jerome motioned to the pictures. “It’s making me realize how much I don’t know you. I don’t know any of your friends outside of Hannah. I don’t know why she teases you about brussels sprouts or what you were like as a kid. Hell, I don’t know what your place looks like or even the address. I just don’t know much.”

  Trevor whispered his home address before tilting his head so he could kiss the warm skin of Jerome’s neck. “It’s in North Wall, and I’m a ten-minute walk from the river. The flat isn’t huge, but the bedroom and kitchen are separated from the living room. It’s tidy and clean because I have a cleaning lady coming once a week. It’s nothing like this house, and it’s nothing like your place. I’m afraid when we go there day after tomorrow, you’ll be distressed by the lack of green plants. You have one on every surface, and I have none.”

  Jerome turned to face Trevor. “Maybe I should have bought you a ficus for Christmas instead of a tie.”

  “No. I love my tie. I can wear it to work and think of you all day. I would kill a ficus in a month.”

  Jerome smiled. “A plant killer. I’ll add that to the list.”

  “Come on,” Trevor said, making a snap decision an
d stepping away from Jerome. “Get your coat and scarf. We’re going out.”

  “What? Where are we going?” Jerome asked, reaching for his coat anyway.

  “You want to know where I come from, so I’ll show you. We’ll walk around for a bit, then go to my favorite pub for a drink. I need it.” Trevor took Jerome’s scarf from the chair and wrapped it around Jerome’s neck before kissing him. “I can’t promise there’ll be anyone I know there, but I’ll text Hannah so she can join us.”

  Jerome raised an eyebrow. “Hannah’s here?”

  “She grew up here. We went to school together. She came to spend Christmas with her own family, and she’ll be here until classes start again. She’s a gossip and knows everything about everyone. She’ll tell you about our childhood if you want.”

  “Can I ask her why she teases you about brussels sprouts?”

  Trevor paused, already feeling a flush rise up his neck. “I’m sure she’ll be delighted to embarrass me in front of you.”

  ENTERING O’MALLEY was an immediate relief after walking around in the cold. The pub looked exactly the same as it had for as long as Trevor could remember. Small and dark, cozy and warm, smelling of burning wood from the fireplace in the middle of the room.

  Hannah was already there, chatting with her brother and his friends. She waved when she saw them before she pointed at an empty table in the corner. Trevor and Jerome were barely out of their coats when she joined them.

  “Already fleeing the family, I see,” Hannah teased. “Nice to see you again, Jerome. How was Mr. McGill today?”

  Trevor groaned. “Let’s not talk about that. Erwan is coming for lunch tomorrow, so the worst is yet to come. Want another one?” He looked pointedly at Hannah’s half-empty beer.

  She shook her head. “I’m good for now.”