by G. B. Gordon
Jason blinked. “We are?”
“Is that good or bad?” Arkady asked at the same time.
She leaned back and looked first at Arkady, then at Jason again. “I’ve been doing this job for thirty years now. I know when I’m being lied to. And if you two aren’t head over heels in love with each other, I should probably hand in my resignation right now.”
You two? The words echoed in Jason’s brain. As in, both of them? Him, yes. He’d seen himself in the pictures, the way he’d been looking at Arkady. He wasn’t surprised she’d seen it, too. But Arkady? Arkady was merely a good actor.
Christine got up and came around her desk to shake their hands. “Congratulations on your wedding.”
And that was that.
All Jason could do was to follow Arkady to the elevator. He didn’t get it. It didn’t add up. Arkady hadn’t wanted to be kissed that first day. And when he’d decided that sex with Jason was fun, that he, for some weird reason Jason would never understand, actually wanted Jason, he’d made it quite clear that it was just that: sex. No strings attached. Because a deal was a deal.
Jason stepped inside the elevator when the door opened, brain in a chaotic whirl of buts and what-ifs. When he turned, Arkady grinned at him, one mischievous eyebrow drawn up. He threw a meaningful glance at the camera in the top corner, then crowded Jason against the back wall. “We shouldn’t disappoint expectations,” he murmured against Jason’s lips, whose brain gave up at that point, abandoning him to Arkady’s hands and lips, the pressure of that long body, and the bubbles of pleasure fizzing and sparkling through his veins, right down into the smallest of cells.
Arkady nearly floated out of the elevator and onto the street. Part of that was leftover adrenaline from his earlier panic. For a moment there, in the middle, he’d been sure they’d blown their chance. But they’d aced the interview. That was the second part. Well that and the extremely hands-on kiss down three floors that had left both of them breathless. But the biggest part of it was what Christine had seen between them, which neatly fitted the last piece into the puzzle that his talk with Kendra earlier had so very nearly solved. “He cares too much,” she’d said. “About everyone but himself. He thinks he isn’t worth caring for.”
And when Arkady had voiced his puzzlement at that, she said, “C’mon, with everyone walking out on him since the day he was born, then blaming him for his mother’s death when he was still a toddler? What conclusions do you think a child can possibly draw from that? How can anything he does ever be good enough to make up for that one terrible sin? Uhm. He’s told you about that, right?”
“Yeah,” Arkady had reassured her. And it was true, Jason had, but in typical Jason fashion, of course, where nothing that happened to him was big deal. And Arkady had been too stupid and tangled up in his own insecurities to draw the proper conclusions. But today he had that priceless and elusive commodity: hope.
He signaled his lane change for the exit that would take them down to the ferry dock. The clouds broke, and a wide swathe of sunlight turned the water of the sound a bright silver. It seemed like a sign from the gods that this was an auspicious day to ask important questions.
He glanced at Jason in the passenger seat, who seemed wholly lost in his own thoughts. And that didn’t change even when Arkady drove onto the ferry, into their indicated position, and killed the engine.
“Jason?”
“Huh?”
“I need some air. Do you want to come?”
“Yeah, sure.” Whether he was absentminded or preoccupied, Arkady couldn’t tell.
He led the way up to the observation gallery or whatever they called it, right under the bridge. On a raw day like today it was pretty much deserted. Probably because the wind almost blew them over the railing, but Arkady didn’t give a damn. He wanted some privacy.
“Cozy,” was all Jason said.
For a while they just stood next to each other, hands on the railing, looking out across the sound.
Then Arkady turned his back on the view. He needed to see Jason’s face. “If I get my green card—”
“When.”
“What?”
“When you get your green card.”
“Okay, fine. When I get my green card—”
“Important distinction.”
Arkady briefly closed his eyes and counted to three. “Very important.” He paused again to make sure Jason was done interrupting him.
Apparently so, because he was watching a group of seagulls swoop across a spot in the waves.
“When I get my green card, I don’t want you to disappear from my life.”
Now Jason did look at him, but it was no more than a surprised glance, before he resumed his study of the gulls. “I suppose we can stay friends,” he said hesitantly.
“Hell no. You’re not paying attention, Yasha. I don’t want to be your friend.”
Jason’s knuckles on the rails turned white. “No, why would you? You’ll be glad when you can stop lying to your family. And Vic, and Grigory, and all your friends.”
Fuck, this was going all kinds of wrong. “Jason? Shut up. I’m trying to say something. It’s important, and I’m fucking it up, and you’re not helping.”
Jason straightened, almost as if standing to attention, and faced Arkady.
Good. At least he was paying attention now. He was also making Arkady more nervous than he already was.
Right. Here goes nothing. Arkady cleared his throat. “I wasn’t lying when I said you’re the man I’ve always dreamed of. I don’t want this to be over when I get my green card.”
Jason stared at him.
“I don’t want to be your friend, Jason. I want to be your husband.”
When Jason still didn’t answer, Arkady’s throat tightened with trepidation. There was a chance that he had it all wrong, of course.
Slowly he went down on one knee, the salt spray that had collected on the deck soaking through his pants. “Jason Cooley, do you want to stay married to me?”
Jason made a choking sound, grabbed Arkady by the jacket, and pulled him to his feet. “May I say something now?”
“I wish you would.” Arkady’s voice was nearly lost on the wind.
“I have no idea what’s going on here, or what just happened, but—” He looked at the water again, as if searching for inspiration, then back at Arkady. “I don’t want you to disappear either. But I also don’t want you to stay because you think I’ll rat you out, or screw you over, or whatever else made you say that just now.”
“God give me patience,” Arkady whispered under his breath. He took Jason’s face between both his hands and leaned in so close that he almost lost focus of Jason’s eyes. “Listen, you obstinately self-doubting Thomas: There’s only one thing that ‘made me say that just now.’ You! I want you in my life, because you make me happier than anyone I’ve ever met. If you’re not being too dense for words, that is. You make me feel safe, and stunning, and cherished. You laugh at exactly the right spots. You’re sexier than hell, you can drive me out of my mind with one kiss, you have a huge, romantic heart—don’t even try to deny it—and I want to show you every day how much of a big deal you are.” He ran out of air and gulped in a big lungful. “I love you, Jason Cooley. Don’t send me away. Please.”
The only thing moving was Jason’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “Are you sure you’re talking about me?”
Arkady huffed a laugh. “Yeah, Yasha, I’m talking about you. I’m thinking about you, and I’m dreaming of you. Can I kiss you now?”
Instead of an answer, Jason drew him close and touched his lips to Arkady’s, then opened him up for one of those languid, gentle, deep Jason-kisses that curled Arkady’s toes and pulled in his ass cheeks.
Jason had to come up for air a few times, but he kept coming back for more, until the announcement over the speakers requested passengers return to their cars.
Arkady was reluctant to let him go; he felt a bit like he’d barely tamed a skittish h
orse. And he’d completely forgotten that they were, essentially, in public. Kissing. He threw a quick look around, but they were alone.
The wind made their coats crack like whips, and Jason wiped tears off his face. Though whether that was from the wind was anyone’s guess.
“Downright punishing, isn’t it?” Arkady said.
“Killer. Better head back down.”
They returned to their car, and for the next while, Arkady was busy trying not to bump into the car ahead of him as they slowly made their way off the ferry and back to the road.
Once traffic spread out a bit, he said with a sideways glance at Jason, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Jason twirled his index finger against his temple. “Bit busy up here right now.” He paused, then tapped his chest with the other hand. “And here too.”
“Anything I can do to make it less busy?”
“Not in the car,” Jason said dryly.
Arkady laughed. “Now that sounds promising.”
They drove in silence until Jason said, “It’ll take me a while. You know, to really believe in my gut what you said. I’m trying. Not getting your hopes up is a hard habit to break. Just . . . don’t leave, okay? When I— I’m gonna need a little time. I have no idea, though, if it’s fair to ask you to stick it out.” He leaned his head back and took a deep breath. “Fuck. I’m fucking terrified of screwing this up.”
Arkady reached over and put his hand on Jason’s thigh without taking his eyes off the road. “Me too. You won’t. I won’t let you. How about you won’t let me either? We’ll figure it out. I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you ask me to leave.”
Jason shook his head. “Not happening.”
“Good. That’s good. Man, I’m starving. We should pick up pizza on the way home.”
They ate the pizza out of the box at the kitchen table. Arkady was trying his damnedest not to push it, to give Jason the time he needed. Jason made it easy, joking around, keeping the tone light.
Arkady held a slice of pizza out for Jason to bite into.
“Cheesy,” Jason said.
“What? Me or the pizza?”
“Both.” Jason grinned and took the bite. “You’re the cheesiest guy I’ve ever met,” he said thickly.
“Quoth the man who has Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Moonstruck on his shelves.”
“Hey, those are not cheesy.”
“Romantic?”
Jason scowled at him. “I suppose you wouldn’t believe they came with the house?”
“Considering you threw everything else out but the curtains? No.”
They grinned at each other. Then Jason said, “So, you and Kendra are ganging up on me.”
Arkady froze.
Ripping a piece of crust apart, Jason asked, “You really think coming here would be good for Lily?”
“I think it would be good for both of you,” Arkady said carefully. “As for me, I’d absolutely adore having her over.” When he didn’t receive an answer he said, “Jason?”
“‘Jay’ is fine. If you still want.”
“It is?”
“Mm-hmm. It’s what Lily calls me. It’s . . . It was too close. I didn’t want you that close. It hurt.” He was staring at the slowly congealing cheese on the last slice of pizza.
Arkady could practically see the thoughts chasing each other behind his forehead. He swallowed hard and clenched his teeth, so he wouldn’t interrupt.
Jason grinned at him. “But you’re already doing that Russian thing with my name,” he said, twirling his finger at that Russian thing. “And you went down on your knees twice.” His eyebrows went up in a suggestive arch. “So, I guess we’re way past that.”
“I guess we are.” It was good to be able to breathe again.
“I should probably buy a booster seat.”
Arkady’s heart sang, and he had a hard time keeping a straight face. “You should.”
Jason nodded. “Want a beer?”
And with that, the matter seemed to be closed.
Jason was working two full shifts for the rest of the week and through the weekend to repay swapped shifts, and Arkady spent his mornings lying in wait for the mail truck. Christine might have been on their side, but she could only “recommend.” What if someone else disagreed? Arkady had thought he’d had everything to lose before, but the stakes were so much higher now. It terrified him.
When a letter from immigration was finally in the mail, it was only his EAD/AP card. As much as he’d looked forward to being allowed to work, after having already sat the interview, it felt decidedly anticlimactic. And it put him even more on tenterhooks. But at least it gave him something to do. He borrowed Jason’s laptop and started scouring job offers and writing applications. He also called Vic to let him know he was legal to work now, and to please let him know about any openings at the college. He still drove to Port Angeles three times a week to tutor Maya, whose English was getting better at a steady rate.
Then Jason had two days off in a row, because his boss had apparently told him he didn’t want to see Jason’s face anymore until he’d had some R&R.
So they sat over what, for them, was a late breakfast on a Friday morning with the rain sheeting like oil down the window panes.
“What do you wanna do today?” Jason asked with a skeptical glance at the weather.
Arkady, having caught his foot on the floor where the boards were missing one too many times just this morning, took his heart in both hands. “Make no other plans, precious. We’re going to Sequim today, to Home Depot.”
Jason stilled and cocked his head, listening.
Mug in hand, almost sloshing coffee over the rim, Arkady indicated the hole in the floor. “We’ll fix this shit, before anyone breaks their neck.”
Jason nodded. “Anything else?” Arkady couldn’t tell whether his stillness indicated hope or trepidation.
So he plowed ahead. “We’ll do the renos. Make this place ours. Because we live here. Because there’s no one here but us who gets a vote as to who belongs here and who doesn’t. And you belong here. So, fine, it’s not a home yet. But it’s about damn time we made it one.”
He could almost hear the seconds ticking by until Jason finally set down the mug he’d been holding frozen in midair through Arkady’s speech. “I think they’re open until nine tonight,” he said.
Arkady let out the breath he’d been holding, “You laconic bastard. I’ll get you for that.”
“Can’t wait,” Jason countered with a grin.
He didn’t fool Arkady, who’d seen the rigidity in his shoulders, the fight going on behind his eyes. But Arkady didn’t call him on it. He’d won that fight. That was all that mattered.
They were wandering through the aisles, cart piled high, looking at blinds. They’d both decided the curtains needed to go: Jason, because he wanted to get rid of the last memory of his grandparents, and Arkady, because they were ugly as fuck.
Suddenly a large ad poster for a company that made railings and banisters stopped Arkady dead in his tracks. It had a picture of a stairwell with a long wooden slide running alongside the stairs between two floors. “Oh my God. Jason. We need something like that. For Lily. C’mon, man. She’ll love it. Hell, I wish my own ass was narrow enough to go down on that. It’s glorious.”
“I have some glorious suggestions about what you or your ass can go down on, but it doesn’t involve slides.”
Arkady did an involuntary roundhouse check, before looking back at Jason. “Jesus, God, be a little careful.” He was only half-serious, though. His heart was already beating faster at Jason’s glorious suggestions.
“Don’t worry. No one’s listening.” Jason seemed to consider the poster. “It has potential,” he conceded. “But if we want to do something for Lily, setting up a room for her should have priority, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Arkady breathed, heart in his throat. That sounded like Jason wanted to make his daughter’s visits a regular thing.
Jason
nodded. “Definitely worth keeping in mind though. The slide.”
They brought their haul home with a stop for beer on the way, and threw themselves into their home improvement project with a minimum of coordination needed. Jason started on the floor, and Arkady on the lighting over the breakfast bar, for once in his life happy to be an electrician. They worked in companionable silence until the streetlights came on. Then Arkady straightened and stretched a kink out of his back. “I’m hungry. What do you say I go get us some dinner?”
Jason took a screw out from between his teeth. “Good plan. I’m about ready to eat anything that isn’t moving.”
Arkady went to get them both burgers and fries and picked the mail up off the floor on the way back in.
One of the letters was from USCIS. Warm paper bag in one hand, mail stack in the other, he tried to run his thumb over it to feel for a card. Nothing. They were kicking him out. His fairy tale was over. Cold and hot at the same time, he didn’t even bother to remove his jacket, just dumped everything he held on the kitchen table and cut the envelope open with the carving knife.
Jason stood slowly and laboriously up from the floor, watching his every move. “What?”
Arkady unfolded the letter and read the first three lines twice before he finally trusted his voice enough to read them out loud: “‘Welcome to the United States of America.’” He could hear the disbelief in his own voice as he continued. “‘This is to notify you that your application for permanent residence has been approved. It is with great pleasure that we welcome you to permanent resident status in the United States.’” Excitement started to bubble through his veins. “Something, ‘important number’, something . . . Here: ‘We will soon mail you a new Permanent Resident Card. You should receive it within the next three weeks.’”
He finished the rest of the letter in silence, about the status being conditional for two years, which they’d known, and to apply for removal of the conditional status before the two years were up. Then he dropped the letter on the table and threw himself at Jason, wrapping his arms around Jason’s neck. “‘Approved’!” he yelled. “‘With great pleasure.’”