“Except that,” I said smugly. “As I seem to recall, I'm actually the one who gets bigger down there.”
“That was one time! You have to have a pill to help you. Don't even go there. I'm totally bigger than you.”
“As I recall, you were the one that was more excited about it than me. My foreskin basically exploded and all you could talk about was how it was oh so big.” My voice was goofy and airy. “So big, all I think about is cocks and having sex.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “I'm not some character in one of your fantasies... bro. Dude.”
“You do say ‘bro’ and ‘dude’ a lot... that's not just my imagination.”
“I do, but I've been trying to clean it up. I don't wanna sound like one of your dumb himbos.”
Redundant. “Don't make me laugh. Tonight was a serious night. I can't handle you right now. Let's go to bed.” I took off my shirt to prove my point.
“Look at these cute muscles,” he marveled. “Look at my sexy man. I can't believe this finally happened. I waited so long for this.” He held me against his chest—I wasn't even fishing for a hug, he just grabbed me.
“Are you Sleepy Bear or Cuddle Bear right now?”
“I'm definitely Cuddle Bear. To the bedroom, my main man. I mean, to the tiny ghetto closet!”
“Very funny.” We crawled into bed and lay side by side, as happy as we’d ever been. He touched my skin. He kissed my shoulders. He massaged my back until the stress faded. We shared our memories from the day. I complained about his overpowering cologne.
The wave of relief almost carried me away. Any other time, when I reviewed a consequential decision, I would debate back and forth. Did it go the right way? Should I have done something different? Was it perfect?
That night I tried to act like Mark. Nothing mattered other than it was done, Mark and I were together... and he was busy trying to make his body into a cocoon to wrap around my thin frame.
Looking back on that evening as I write this, there are obviously a few things I would have done differently—especially things that I would have said differently (or not said at all). I probably wouldn't have done a sit-down dinner. The best thing to do would have been to just show up at my parents’ house randomly and let them know the big news. I still would have felt sick, but I probably would have had Mark out in the car waiting for me and it wouldn't have been such a dramatic affair.
It's not a big deal. Having a boyfriend is not a big deal. In some respects, I don't even understand why I had to mention it at all.
Why should it matter? I still, to this day, don't understand why it should matter, but that's the way the world works. People say mean things. People catcall out windows and call you faggots. Whatever.
I'm the happiest I've ever been. He makes me happy. He makes everything so easy and funny. We laugh all the time. He's my best friend.
I feel guilty, at times, because he has to stay in his job for the healthcare benefits. I know there's Obamacare, but recently that's up in the air and we don't feel comfortable relying upon it. My medical expenses over the past couple years have been so astronomical and thus, Mark is forced to stay in his job... although he says he loves his work. He tells me all the time that it's not a sacrifice.
I don't know. I don't know why my mind turns to the healthcare incentives at this moment. I guess I'm just thinking about sacrifices and about being with someone through thick and thin, until the end. And about being open and honest with the ones you love and about how acceptance of your lot in life can lift your spirits.
As I finish this self-portrait, I'm slowly getting closer and closer to possibly revealing my identity.
I don't know... maybe I'm just feeling this way because I’m reliving how it felt to finally come out of the closet and yet here I am, once again, hiding myself away as I have always done. It took a lot of effort to come out to my parents, but after it happened, I felt so proud to be the truest version of who I am. And that’s where the tension is in my life: I want to be my truest self to you guys, but I also don’t want the scrutiny that comes with it. My paranoia would never mesh with a reality TV show! That’s for sure.
I’ve always been secretive and withheld important things in my life from those who love me the most. The one exception being Mark. But as you, my Dedicated Reader Who Has Read 500,000 Words Of This Story... as you know, I withheld secrets from Mark, too.
I feel depressed now as I write this. I cannot explain the deep, existential despair coupled with a strange mix of joy. Mark is here with me. He feeds me my food as I sit in the hospital. He makes me eat when I get out of the hospital.
Mark has been through it all.
I could have come out of the closet in a million different ways, and he would have been at my side through any fallout. He will be at my side no matter how many years I have left—or how few. And, in part, I'm writing this story so that I will always be there beside him. Forever. Not just in our hearts, but also on the page and living through you, Dear Future Reader. Forever.
Or for however long there are sentient beings directly descended from our current civilization.
I want the story of us to live beyond me. That is my deepest desire and I am revealing it to you now. I am not going to be secretive about my goals any longer (and if you are still reading this, then I assume you are exactly the kind of person that can keep our story alive). I want it to be more than just us.
But as I've reminded Mark time and time again: I'm not even gay. This isn't a story for gay people. It's a story for one person and one person only. How in the world can I be so conceited as to believe that this mess of a memoir would appeal to anyone other than the man who has been at my side and who will need these pages in the years to come?
Ah shit.
That's enough melancholy for one day. Let's go on to the party scene—the coming-out party.
MARK WHISPERED TO ME as we lay down in my dingy bedroom. He had apparently planned a small get-together at his favorite club, The Ugly Rhino. “Just a little thing,” he assured me. “Just a little party on a Wednesday night.”
I wondered if he expected us to have sex, seeing as Wednesday used to be our sex day. Hopefully not. I didn't feel up to it and hadn't felt up to it since we got back together, to be honest. All I wanted was my best friend back and I had that. Why did things have to change? I didn't want a party; I was not a party guy. Why couldn't he just go get the sex on the side but then come back to me and sleep in my arms? Was that so much to ask?
Mark seemed to think so.
I fell into an easy and dreamless sleep despite my mind running through the many obstacles still in our way.
Prom
THERE ARE RARE MORNINGS when I roll over for a few hours before finally getting up. Then there are times when I sit bolt upright and it’s like my brain gets hit with a defibrillator. But then there are the rarest of gifts—when waking up is like slipping out of a pleasant dream... and that’s how it was to wake up the day after finally coming out to my parents.
Mark’s beefy arm was my blanket. I always needed something covering my body in order to feel comfortable, usually a sheet. Mark’s arm did the trick—though a bit too warm, so I wasn’t able to sink back down into slumber. My back was pressed into his chest completely, which meant I was sleeping at a different angle than normal, but it felt pleasantly contorted.
My eyes adjusted to the early morning light peeking through the crack in the towel I used as blinds. The bed smelled like me, but the room smelled like man musk. Mark. He was everywhere.
I felt him adjust behind me as I squirmed deeper into his clutches. His breathing was rhythmic and wet against my neck, tickling me.
I felt like screaming from pleasure because everything was so... right. Then I wanted to cry—to wake up Mark and tell him how much I loved him and how important last night had been and to put words to the connectedness I felt towards him.
But I had to content myself by playing with his hand as it lay on my chest—tracing t
he knuckles and pressing on the veins. I gently touched his fingers until they twitched. Then his forearm. I didn’t want the early morning bubble to pop, but I couldn’t help myself... I just had to touch him. I wanted to stay in bed with him forever, to live like this until happily ever after.
It made this new iteration of my relationship with Mark feel real and secure. We were legitimized.
And, as a bonus, the world hadn’t ended. So that was nice.
“Quit moving,” Mark groaned. “What time is it?”
It was eight o’clock. Mark would be pissed if I got him up that early so I tried to still my twitching legs. Then I rolled in his arms so that his chest was in line with my face. Mark’s eyes were shut and he looked so beautiful.
“Time for kisses!” I said, way too loudly. Then I attacked his lips until he kissed me back. Then I kissed his neck and chest and arms. Hahahaha! I’ve gone bonkers!
“Whoa boy,” Mark said. “Go on down, just a little farther. I’ll give you something to kiss.”
“Not happening.”
“Nothing like some morning head.”
“Not happening.”
“Well, somebody woke the Grumpy Bear.” Mark growled like a bear. He rolled onto his knees, jumped at me and tackled me at the waist. “Now he has to face the consequences.” He pinned me to the bed and kissed me much harder than I had kissed him. My kisses had been like lightweight butterflies—he was attacking me like a falcon trying to snap up a field mouse.
“Mark,” I gasped.
“Yeah, babe,” he said as he worked down my body. His hand slid under the small of my back and lifted my hips. “Look at that cock.”
“No... not right now.”
He kissed the head of my cock (disgusting!). “It looks like you want it right now.”
We were both breathing heavily and staring at each other. My body felt primed, but all I wanted to do was play with him... in bed... on my mattress. “Maybe we should eat,” I suggested.
“Maybe we should kiss some more.” He crawled up my body and laid kisses up my abs and in between my pecs. “I love this body,” he said. “You’ve been bulking.”
“I haven’t been lifting as much,” I said. “My body was hurting.”
“Let me give you a massage. I’ll give you a massage every night if it takes away the pain.”
“Don’t be a goof.” I swatted his hair.
Mark skimmed his hands over my abs just enough to make me shiver.
“Hey!” I complained.
He kissed my open mouth and laughed as he did it. “You’re on fire this morning,” he said when we broke apart. I pounced on his chest and cuddled. I used his big pecs (so much beefier than I remembered) as a pillow. A minute later I started licking his nipple, just to hear his laugh again.
“Why don’t you sniff my pits, you perv.”
I stuck my nose in his pit and snorted. “Smells like shit,” I said a second later. He rolled onto me again and we continued our play. He used his body as a cage, which I didn’t try too hard to escape from. I pounced on him when he presented the opportunity. We acted like fools until Mark’s stomach rumbled. It was past nine o’clock before we got dressed.
“I love you,” I said quickly before opening the door to the shared space.
“I love you more.”
We shared a smile.
If only I could adequately express my feelings, but our I love you’s would have to be enough for now. How do you tell your lover that everything has fit into place, that you feel the most inexplicable connection and that all you want is to crack open his chest and slip into his skin so that the two of you can live the same life and be in the same place for all eternity?
Yeah, you don’t say stuff like that.
We made breakfast—just plain egg sandwiches. I put jelly on my toast as usual and slapped my eggs on the gluten-free cracker bread. “That’s disgusting,” Mark said.
“I missed hearing you say that.”
“I can’t be the only one that thinks that’s gross. Hey, Nick, isn’t this gross?”
“It’s disgusting,” Nick agreed. “Jelly and eggs? He’s a weird one. Always has been.”
“I’m not weird,” I protested.
“You’re the freakiest guy I ever met,” Mark assured me. “And that’s saying something.”
“Bah!”
I ate my eggs. Mark teased me some more. I let him glomp onto my body as I did the dishes (which was his version of ‘helping’ in the morning). He kissed the nape of my neck and refused to let me go, even when I told him he was going to be late for work.
“I want to stay here,” he complained while shooting a not-so-subtle glance at Travis. “I can help you guys, too. You said you needed more workers.”
“More coders,” I stressed. “And I think we’ll always need more people working for us, but it’s not in the budget at the moment.”
“I can help you. Let me make some calls. I can find you some investors.”
“Not yet, babe. You need to go to work. You love your job.”
“I love you more,” he said seriously.
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Quit being mushy.” Then I pushed him to the door. “Get out of here. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back.”
“I don’t make fun of you when you go soft,” he complained.
“You know I don’t use it that much,” I said, looking down at my pants so he knew it was a reference to my penis.
“I was talking about when you get needy. I let you be needy, why can’t I be needy in return?”
You’re embarrassing me! In front of Nick and Travis! They’re working and you’re acting like... making a scene...
I followed him out the door and into the hall. “There’s nothing to worry about with Travis.” This was probably the hundredth time I had to give him this assurance. “Stop acting up around him.”
“I don’t act up.”
“You’re acting like we won’t ever see each other again!” I wanted to slap some sense into him. “I just came out of the closet to my parents... and I’m not even gay. It was all for you, because I love you and I want to be with you... for real this time. There are no other guys, and it’s laughable that you feel threatened by my friend.”
“I have to watch out for you,” he said stubbornly. “You don’t understand the mixed messages you send. You drove me crazy those first couple months—one minute running hot and the next minute cold and distant.”
“Thanks,” I said, this time really rolling my eyes.
“I’m serious.”
“I’m telling you not to worry about it. You know I’ve been with two other men and you know why I did it. And I’ve been with four women.”
“Great!” Mark exclaimed, melodramatically. “You always want to even things out! Now I have to worry that you’re going to find a fourth dude, just so your stupid categories line up!”
I threw my head back and groaned to whatever heavenly deities might be watching over this Earth (but also didn’t deny that there was a kernel of truth to his argument). “Would you just listen to yourself? What has gotten into you?”
“I invited him to the party tonight.”
“At the Ugly Rhino?”
“Yes at the Ugly Rhino... where else would we have our gay prom! And if Travis wants you like I think he does, then he’ll be there.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t ask for a giant party.”
“Tough shit. I invited all our friends.”
“Our friends don’t even know that we’re back together again.”
“They do now.”
“You’re crazy,” I accused. “You do realize this is insane. Not everything has to be shown off to our friends.”
“I’m showing you off tonight. And I don’t want him to come.”
“Who him?”
“Travis!” he hissed.
“Then why did you invite him?” I hissed back.
“Because he was in the room with Nick an
d I couldn’t get out of it. Plus, I know he’s your friend so of course you would ask about why he wasn’t invited. I kept hearing your nagging voice—”
“That’s enough of a pile on.” You won’t get your way by negging me. “I’ll tell him not to come, if that’s what you want. He isn’t gay, anyway.”
“It’s in a gay club! I never thought he’d say yes! Fuck! I knew that little fucker was gay...”
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” I stressed again. “Sweet Cheesus, Mark. Pull yourself together.” I pushed him to the stairs. “Not everyone is into guys. You don’t have to keep marking your territory. I’m already yours.”
“You’ve been mine for a long time. I just have to make sure you remember.”
I basically kicked him down the stairs. Then I slipped into my apartment with a smile on my face. The guys didn’t comment on my late morning. “So, you guys are coming to my party?”
“Yep,” Nick said. Travis nodded once.
“Want me to hook you up with some hot dates or are you going together?”
Travis coughed. “Shit, you’ve changed. In college you were a completely different person.”
I laughed. “Just being friendly. So, going stag or taking a date? You probably don’t want to go there alone... I have no idea who Mark invited or how rowdy they’re going to get.”
“I’ll get a girl,” Nick said.
“I asked Ash. If she says no, then I’ll probably stay here.”
“Okay,” I said, thankful that Travis was going to back out like he always did. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Yeah, Trav. Wait till you hear what happened the last time he took some straight friends to the club. Chris tried to make out with Suhail!”
“What!” Travis yelled playfully. Then he saw Nick wasn’t kidding and my face was red. “Yikes!”
“Don’t go spreading nasty rumors,” I muttered. “And I was only teasing Suhail. It wasn’t actually going to happen.” And it was just to get a rise out of Mark.
Nick wouldn’t let it go. “The way I heard it, he wanted to start an orgy in the booth and grabbed Suhail by the front of his shirt and said: I’m going to make you gay, toooooooo.”
The Fiancé (It's Just Us Here Book 6) Page 19