Chapter 11
DeAnna Zankich
Sequel to | Sweet Redemption
Summary: The days leading up to the big `I do'.
Warnings: None
Author Notes: A thousand thanks to my sweet friend Kristina Grönberg for the title.
Spoilers: None
The phone in the flat had rung almost constantly as they showered together and got dressed for the wedding rehearsal and dinner party. At 4:15 the door buzzer rang and a messenger delivered two more gifts. Vince signed for the packages and put them on the kitchen counter, then he went back up to the bedroom to check on Stuart's progress.
"We've gotta go, luv," he said standing in the doorway of the bathroom. "It wouldn't do to be late for our own wedding rehearsal."
Stuart was primping in the mirror, arranging his sleek black curls with a comb and his fingertips. "I'm almost done."
"You look gorgeous," Vince told him. He stepped up behind the brunette and slipped his arms around his lean waist. "If you looked any more gorgeous, I wouldn't let you out of the flat."
Stuart smiled crookedly in the reflection. "I think I'm nervous."
"Why?"
He shrugged, then tossed his comb into a drawer under the counter. Turning to Vince, he touched their foreheads together and tickled the flaxen hairs on Vince's arms. "Dunno really. I think it's just . . ."
"We're getting married," Vince suggested.
Stuart brushed his nose against Vince's then kissed his lips. "Yeah. I reckon that's it. I just don't want to fuck it up, you know? Do anything stupid and end up lookin' like a twat during the ceremony."
"It's performance anxiety, then?" Vince teased. He put a kiss on Stuart's forehead and gave him a comforting smile. "I wouldn't worry. You always perform well under pressure. Besides, I'll be right there with you."
Sighing, Stuart nodded. "Just don't leave me alone, all right?"
Vince held his lover's face in his hands and looked into those gemlike dark blue eyes. "I promise I won't. Now come on--we're going to be late." He took Stuart's hand and led him out of the bathroom, turning the light off after them.
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Stuart:
His parents' house smelled of roast chicken and rosemary, baking bread and potatoes. The furniture in the lounge had been rearranged so that the couch, loveseat and chairs all faced each other in a large conversation pit. The coffee table was laden with nibbles and cocktail napkins and a warm fire burned on the hearth. Margaret greeted them at the door with a smile and kisses on the cheek.
"Hello, lads," she said, holding Stuart's hand and giving it a squeeze. "Sister Anne is in the kitchen with your father and Marie and the boys are outside having a look at the garden. Can I get you a drink?"
"Please," Stuart said. "Something strong. And make it a double."
Margaret squeezed his hand again. "Don't be nervous about this bit. The point of a rehearsal is to get everything right before the actual ceremony. Now, what can I get you, Vince?"
"A glass of wine would be lovely," he said.
"Right. You boys make yourselves comfortable." She went off to the kitchen to get their drinks.
Vince smiled at him sweetly and picked up the hand Margaret had just let go. "Come on, luv. Let's go say hello to everyone."
They walked through the warm living area of the Jones's home and found Clive and Sister Anne Hollingwood engaged in a lively chat at the dining room table. The Sister had been a friend of the Jones family ever since they first began attending church in Manchester. She had also been the first person to ever ask Stuart if he was gay.
It had been at a family picnic when he was fifteen and he had stalked away from the well-meaning nun, refusing to answer such a ridiculous question. The subject didn't come up again between Stuart and Sister Anne until he asked her to officiate his wedding. He'd taken her to dinner and reminded her of that long ago conversation. After confessing he'd been completely undone by her candor at the time, which rendered him, unable to respond to her properly, he told her about his relationship with Vince and said it would mean the world to him if she would marry them.
Stuart did this on his own without Vince's consult because he knew he would dissolve from embarrassment if Vince had been present. For some reason, that conversation with Sister Anne was deeply personal to him--more personal than he could share even with his lover.
When Clive and the Sister saw the boys, they both stood up to greet them.
"Hello there, lads," Clive said jovially. He gave them each a warm embrace and Stuart smiled to himself. His father gave the best hugs. You really knew you'd been squeezed with affection by the time he let go of you. "All ready for these happy proceedings?"
"Almost," Stuart said with a nervous laugh. He extended his hand to the Sister. "Thanks for making time for this tonight, Sister Anne. We really appreciate it."
"Of course," she said holding his hand in both of hers for a moment. "I'm happy to be here for you, Stuart. And so pleased to see what a lovely young man you've grown into." She smiled into Stuart's eyes. "I remember when I first met you and Marie. You two were quarreling like mad and your parents had to separate you at mass." She looked at Clive with a little grin. "Your father said you were just high-spirited but I could tell you were a real troublemaker."
Stuart nodded. "Yeah. That hasn't really changed much, I'm afraid."
The Sister laughed, then turned to Vince. "Your mother is coming tonight, right?"
"Yes, she is," he said. "She'll be along any minute."
"Good, good. I haven't met her yet and I think it's important we do so before the ceremony. I like to be acquainted with both sides of a couples' family." She opened a notebook on the table beside her and turned to a page about half way through. Taking out a pen she made some marks on what appeared to be a computer print out of a schedule grid with the time broken into fifteen-minute increments. "You boys have written your own vows, correct?"
"Yes," Vince and Stuart said together.
"Wonderful," the Sister said. "I'll need you to give me a rough estimate of how long each will take to read so I can configure it into the ceremony. Of course, it doesn't have to be exact--people often spontaneously shorten or lengthen their vows on the spur of the moment and I want you to feel free to do that, as well. It's your wedding, go with what you feel at the time. This is just so I can get an idea."
Margaret brought Vince a glass of white wine and handed her son a double whiskey. "Please sit down, boys," she said. "Romey rang and said she and the baby will be a few minutes late. Alfred was less than excited about coming, apparently. Gave her a bit of trouble-- just like his father used to do for me." Stuart chuckled as he sat down at the table beside Clive. He took two deep sips of the drink his mother had given him and tried to calm down.
Vince sat down and took out his recently ever-present leather bound planner, opening it to a page near the back. He tore out a sheet of paper and handed it to the Sister.
"I don't imagine it will take too long, but I'm not sure I could estimate," Vince said. "Not even roughly. Would you mind just looking it over?"
"Of course not," she said, taking the slip of paper. "I promise to only read it for length, not content." She gave him a sweet smile then glanced over the words on the paper.
Stuart had no idea what Vince had written and he fought his temptation to look at the paper. He felt certain it was something sweet and romantic and he wanted to be surprised with it at the ceremony.
The Sister handed the sheet back. "That's lovely, Vincent."
"Thanks," he said, blushing madly. He folded the paper and tucked it into a flap in his planner.
Sister Anne looked at Stuart expectantly. "And yours? Any idea how long you'll need?"
"Um, I haven't written it down," he said, fidgeting slightly. "But it's . . . six sentences, two of which are in Gaelic. Shouldn't take too long. Couple minutes." His eyes flitted to his father just in time to see the proud little smile appear on his face. He knew Clive would be very pleased about the Gaelic.
"Right," the Sister said. "Perfect." She scratched something else in her notebook then put the lid back on her pen. "That's it, then. Whenever your son and Vince's mum arrive, we can start the rehearsal."
Stuart nodded and smiled, then he tipped his glass and drained the rest of the whiskey. His hands were still trembling just a little.
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Hazel:
Romey had offered to give her a ride out to the Jones's that evening and she sat in the passenger seat looking back at Alfred. The baby was strapped well into his car seat and he giggled happily as Hazel tickled his sock-covered feet.
"Far cry from half an hour ago," Romey said, glancing at her son in the rearview mirror. "He screamed the place down when I tried to get him dressed. He was having absolutely none of the shoes I wanted him to wear."
"Ah," Hazel said. "Just like his father. A fashion victim."
They laughed knowingly and Hazel turned to face forward again.
"Romey, luv, have you heard any more about that handsome American bloke of theirs? Brian, wasn't it?"
"Not from Stuart," she said. "Has Vince mentioned him?"
Hazel shook her head. "No and that's what bothers me. Tickles my mother's intuition. I have a feeling the lads aren't saying anything about him because he's quite a big presence--one they know we won't approve of."
"Well," Romey said diplomatically. "They could also be saying nothing because he's moved on. Maybe they've finished with him. I mean, maybe they've finished with whatever it was they were doing with him."
"Mm," Hazel said and again they laughed knowingly. "Yes, whatever it was, indeed."
Romey shook her head and turned her attention back to the road ahead.
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Marie:
Her sons chased each other up and down the aisle between the chairs that had been laid out for the rehearsal. There were only about twenty of the full fifty that would be out on Saturday and she sat in one of them, two rows back from the fountain where her brother and his fianc would exchange vows.
Clive had spent weeks on the garden and it had turned out beautifully. She inhaled deeply as the late afternoon roses bobbed in the soft breeze. The sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine had just begun to rise and it mingled in a soft melody with the hydrangea and snapdragons. Clive had lined the staircase leading down from the house with bright white and red pansies and their fragile pedals fluttered as the wind moved through the garden. The breeze seemed to be going from one patch of blooms to the next, sampling their individual scents and caressing their pedals.
Marie smiled to herself. She had been afraid that all this wedding business would remind her of Robert and make her depressed, but she was pleased to find it had done nothing of the sort. In fact, she was almost overwhelmed with happiness for her little brother. Vince was so good for him--had changed him so much in the year they'd been together romantically. Stuart had grown up a great deal. She'd never admit it, but she was glad her brother had retained his cantankerous personality while still managing to evolve into a suitable relationship partner.
She wondered if she herself was so evolved or suitable. After losing Robert like that, she had remained a bit unsure of herself as a mate. Still, her boys seemed all right. They were healthy and doing well in school. Marie supposed she really couldn't complain.
"Mum, Uncle Stuart's here!" Ben squealed, pointing up to the large dining room window.
Marie glanced up and saw her brother sitting down at the table with Sister Anne and their father. He looked scared witless and she laughed a little. "So, he is," she said to her son. "Shall we go up and say hello?" She got up and herded her boys toward the stairway and they walked up to the house.
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Vince:
By 5:15, everyone needed for the ceremony had managed to arrive at the Jones's house. He carried Alfred down the stairs to the garden, talking quietly to the baby about how nice everything looked. Stuart and Marie walked down together and he could just hear their conversation as they made their way to the staging area for the ceremony.
"So, I finally get to meet your Kate's husband?" Marie said.
"Yeah. And you'd better behave. No having Mum get out the fuckin' baby photos or telling any embarrassing childhood stories. You know the ones I mean."
Marie snickered as only a sister could. "Well, I can't speak for what Mum might do but I promise I won't intentionally embarrass you. Even though you soundly deserve it. So, what are you wearing on Saturday."
Vince's ears perked up but he made sure not to turn around or indicate he was listening in any way.
"Just . . . a nice suit," Stuart said.
Vince glanced back and saw his lover looking at him, a playful smile pulling on his lips. Blushing, Vince just laughed.
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Stuart:
Sister Anne had to move things along rather quickly so she could get to her next appointment. She was officiating a commitment ceremony between two other men across town at 7:00.
Stuart and Vince's ceremony was meant to be simple and uncomplicated. Everything would start at 5:00 on Saturday and the whole proceeding would be completed by 5:40 according to the Sister's calculations. The children were all involved in some way, but Alfred was in charge of the rings. It was the boys' plan to take off the rings they had been wearing and replace them on each other's fingers during the ceremony. Alfred would be responsible for keeping the rings in the pocket of his little suit until the appropriate time came to bring them out.
Sister Anne instructed Romey to sit in the front row so she could support the baby on his still uncertain legs. Next, she guided Hazel through her walk down the aisle on Vince's arm, explaining that they should take their time and move slowly toward the fountain that was serving as their alter. It had been Vince's idea that as part of the ceremony, the boys were going to toss coins into the fountain's water for good luck and make a wish for each other. The wishes they made were meant to be kept secret until they were alone later that night.
Sister Anne next assisted Stuart's parents with walking down the aisle on either side of their son. They were to come down all the way to the fountain and then Stuart would seat them in the front row before joining Vince. After all that was practiced twice, the boys stood side by side in front of the nun and waited for the next instructions.
"Now," Sister Anne explained. "Once everyone is seated, we will begin with a reading by your friend Alexander Perry. I understand he isn't flying in until tomorrow, correct?" she asked Vince.
"That's right," he said. "He's been travelling on the continent. But he's all prepared for this. Don't worry. He might be a bit jetlagged, but everything should go as planned."
Everyone chuckled at that comment and Vince blushed. Alex's behavior was well known among his friends and was, at best, unpredictable.
"I'm sure everything will be perfect," Sister Anne said soothingly. "After Mr. Perry's reading, we will begin the ceremony with me saying a few words about the nature of commitment and the life-giving power of love." She leaned into them and lowered her voice. "It's all quite non-denominational and there's very little of that `God stuff' in it," she assured them. "Don't worry. I might be married to God, but I don't have to bring him to every party."
Stuart smiled at her, hoping his appreciation was showing in his eyes. They had discussed the content of the ceremony in great detail the night they had dinner alone. He wanted her part to be something she had created herself, not something read out of a standardized book that had been crudely modified to fit the occasion.
"After my introductory words, I will ask you two to exchange your personal vows. Then we will exchange the rings and I will say even MORE things about love and commitment."
Everyone laughed softly again and the baby let out a sudden, happy squeal. Stuart glanced back at his son and caught his eye. The baby giggled and waved his arms once he had Stuart's attention and he reached out for his father to pick him up.
"'Scuse me a second, Sister," he said, stepping back to take the baby from Romey. He propped Alfred up on his hip and walked back to stand beside Vince. "Thanks," he said to Sister Anne. "Please carry on."
Alfred reached for the bright silver cross around her neck and she let him hold it in his little hand as she continued her explanation of the ceremony.
"The next thing is a bit serious. Here I say a few selected words about God and eternity, but it's still nothing heavy. And then I pronounce you life partners and you finally get to kiss each other."
Alfred squealed again when she said that and everyone laughed again.
"After that," Sister Anne concluded. "There will be nothing left to do but have a party. See? It's nothing to be afraid of. You were both nervous for no reason." She kissed the baby's little hand and then she glanced at her watch. "Right, it's getting on a bit. Do you all need to run through it again?"
"I think we're all right," Vince said, glancing back to his mother and to Stuart's parents for confirmation.
"Fine," Hazel said. "All we have to do is walk down here and sit. You two have the difficult things to do."
Vince looked at Stuart. "Do you want to go through it again?"
"Nope," he said, playfully tickling the baby's tummy. "I'm fine. Let's go eat dinner."
"Right," Vince said to the Sister. "Do you have time for a cup o' tea before you go?"
"I'm afraid not," she said. "But I will definitely have time on Saturday. Now, please call me if you have any questions between now and then. I'm available to you for anything you might need."
"Thank you for everything," Stuart said to her, putting a light kiss on her smooth cheek.
"You know it's my pleasure," Sister Anne said. She walked up the aisle saying her good-byes, waving back to the boys as she went up the garden stairs with Clive.
Stuart sat down beside Romey and Hazel, balancing the baby on his lap. Alfred cooed and reached out for the collar of Stuart's shirt, his blue eyes dancing with delight.
"He wouldn't put on his shoes?" Stuart asked.
Romey shook her head. "I'm lucky I got him dressed at all. You should have seen him wiggling and crying! You would have thought I was trying to murder him what with the fight he put up."
Vince laughed, stepping up behind the baby. He ran his fingers gently through Alfred's curly dark hair. "I reckon he gets that from his dad," he said, softly. "Gettin' him dressed is always a bit of a struggle, as well."
Hazel socked her son in the leg playfully. "Oh, keep that sort of pornography in your own bedroom. We just had a nun here, for Christ's sake!"
Clive called down to his wife from the deck. "Margie, luv. Your oven timer's gone off."
"Oh, well then." She got up and hurried toward the stairs, glancing back to her guests. "That means dinner's on, folks. Let's eat."
Hoisting the baby into his arms, Stuart stood up. He caught Vince's eye and asked him to wait until everyone else had gone up the stairs. When they were alone in the garden, Stuart went over to the fountain and looked into the pool of water.
"What is it?" Vince said, stepping up beside him.
"I want to make a wish now," Stuart said. "Have you got a coin?"
Vince fished in his pocket and pulled out a penny. When he held it up, Alfred reached for it.
"Let him take it," Stuart said. The baby grasped the coin in his plump little hand and looked at it with great interest. "See the water?" Stuart said to his son. "Put the penny in the water. Go on. Just throw it in." He leaned forward so the boy could simply drop the penny into the pool. After a moment, he finally let go of the small coin and it plunked solidly into the water.
"Did you make a wish?" Vince asked, glancing in at the penny shining under the water in the late afternoon light.
"Yeah," Stuart said, giving Vince a serious, intimate gaze. "I wished that Alfred would put his shoes on."
Vince chuckled, returning that penetrating look. "That's funny," he said. "That's exactly the same thing I wished." He leaned over the baby's head and gave Stuart a soft kiss. "I love you, you know."
"Yeah," Stuart said playfully. "I know."
"Are you lads coming in, or what?" Margaret called down to them from the deck. "We've got a hungry mob in here--you'd better come and eat while you still can."
Stealing one more kiss, Vince turned around and started for the house. Stuart followed him with the baby tucked in his arms.
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Vince:
By 9:15 the Jones's home was crammed with people. A different conversation was going on in every corner and the boisterous sounds of laughter rang into the street when he stepped out for a cigarette. Vince hadn't been smoking very much over the last few months, but every once in a while he just had to have one. Standing outside in the cool evening, he lit his cigarette and took a deep breath.
Any worries he'd had about their guests getting on with each other had been put soundly to rest. He and Stuart had watched in quiet amazement as Kate and Richard huddled in a long conversation with Dudley, and Marie and Hazel sat laughing like loons with Judith and young Andie. Reb and Margaret had a long talk in the kitchen while they finished the washing up and Adrian ended up babysitting the children and playing video games on the computer upstairs. Vince and Stuart had circulated from one cluster to the next, stopping like visiting bees to pollinate each conversation with thanks and kind words.
Vince would lie to say he wasn't exhausted as he leaned against a post on the Jones's porch. But it was a good kind of exhausted. The sort of weariness that comes only from being smothered with loving intentions. He smiled as he thought of the mountains of gifts waiting for them at home and of the sweet, private plans he had for their wedding night. Two more days and Stuart Alan Jones would be his husband. It was all too much to take in.
The front door creaked open behind him and for a moment the happy chatter going on inside blasted out into the quiet night. Reb slipped out onto the porch and stood beside him with a smile. "You're not hiding, are you?" she said.
"I'm not," Vince replied. "I just felt the need for a smoke. I'm going right back in."
"Mind if I join you?" she said.
"'Course not." He slid out his pack and shook a cigarette out for her, lighting it with a book of matches in his pocket. "We're very happy you and Andie were able to join us, Reb. It's quite special having you here. After all, I never could have pulled of my proposal without your help."
Reb put her arm around his waist and gave him a little hug. "I believe everything is meant to be, sweetheart," she said in her soft Georgian accent. "And as soon as I met you two in Scotland, I just knew I would be a guest at your wedding."
"We loved your gift," he said. "We put it in the lounge above the telly."
"Ah, good location. Do keep me posted on how many of your friends actually see the lion."
"I saw it finally," he told her proudly.
Reb looked at him in the low evening light, her prettily lined brow knitting softly. "Did you, now?"
"Yeah." When he saw her unhappy reaction, Vince looked down and breathed a sad little laugh. "I reckon we've had a rough few months since we last saw you in Scotland."
Reb held her cigarette between her lips then reached for Vince's left hand. Turning his palm toward the light spilling through the livingroom window, she squinted at the lines there.
Vince was suddenly filled with apprehension. He tried to relax, thinking he was just being silly, but the anxious feeling would not let go. "Reb, I don't think I want to--"
"Honey," she said soothingly. "The first rule of fortune telling is that no matter what you see in someone's hand or someone's cards, you never, never, never tell them anything bad. At least nothing exponentially bad. Don't worry, anyway. Your hand is a very happy map. See?" She traced the line that ran through the middle of his palm. "You have a deep love line--close, tight bonds with your family." She glanced up at him. "I had the pleasure of talking with your mother for a while tonight and I learned a lot about you from her."
"Oh, God," he said. "I can only imagine."
Reb smiled, turning back to his hand. "She's a lovely woman, your mom. And it says here that you two will be close for the rest of your life. And this line here," she traced the line that arched around Vince's thumb. "This is your life line. See how it connects at this point to your heart line? That's the fifteen year mark." Reb gave Vince's hand a little squeeze. "You and Stuart both have the same mark in your palms."
"And that means?" he said.
"That means, you are each other's soul mates. Each other's one true love. You two are extremely lucky." Reb pressed up on her toes to kiss Vince's cheek. "Love is a tricky thing, sweetheart. We find we have to do a lot more giving than receiving, but in the end--it's the giving that makes it all worth it. It's the giving of love that makes us golden."
Vince looked at his palm in the livingroom light. "Do you really think it's a bad thing that I can see the lion in the painting now?" he asked.
"No," Reb said. "I think it's a bit sad is all. You must have gone through something very intense these last few months. Something that changed you in a fundamental way."
Frowning slightly, Vince took another deep hit from his cigarette. "I reckon that's true." He dropped the cigarette butt onto the concrete step below him and stamped it out. Once he was certain it was extinguished he tucked it into his pocket to throw away later. "I'm not sure it's done, in fact," he said.
"Really?" Reb looked at him closely. "Was it a rival lover?"
Vince shook his head a bit amazed. "Is it that obvious?"
"Not at all," she said. "I was really just asking. It's the first thing that came to mind."
He leaned on the railing and looked into the livingroom through the big front window. He could see Stuart sitting on the sofa between Kate and Hazel, both of them trying to talk to him at once. Rolling his eyes, the brunette smiled at him through the glass.
"This other man is still around?" Reb said softly.
Vince nodded. "He's in London right now, actually."
"Will he be at the wedding?"
"He wasn't invited," Vince told her.
Reb looked at him directly in the low light, her expression indicating that was not what she'd asked. "Will he be there, Vince?"
He shrugged and looked back at Stuart again. Kate had diverted his lover's attention and he was laughing at something she'd said. He was so lovely when he laughed like that. "I don't think so," Vince said. "He's flying back to America that afternoon and he's here with a friend. So, I don't think he'll make an appearance. I've asked him not to."
"You're friends with him?"
"Yeah," he said, looking at her a bit shyly.
"I see," she said knowingly. "He was THAT sort of friend."
"It's . . . complicated to say the least," Vince said.
"Oh, I don't know. It sounds pretty straightforward to me. You and your lover picked up a beautiful American stray and he ended up being more trouble than he was worth." She raised her eyebrows and grinned. "Something like that?"
Feeling his cheeks burn, Vince nodded. "Yeah, except that he . . . well, he . . ."
"Wasn't so much trouble, was he?" she offered.
"No. He wasn't. He was lovely, actually. He and Stuart just got a bit too close for my comfort. We just saw him--Brian, that's his name-- this week and told him we weren't going to see him anymore. It was time. With the wedding and all."
"Hm," she said, folding her arms across her belly. "And you almost lost your lover to this Brian?"
"Almost."
"Did Stuart almost lose HIS lover to this Brian?"
"No," Vince said simply.
Reb nodded thoughtfully, also looking through the big front window at Stuart sitting on the sofa inside. "He's terribly handsome, you know," she said.
"Yeah, I've spotted that."
She lowered her voice and spoke to him conspiratorially. "That Stuart's going to be a bucket of trouble."
Vince laughed. "Always has been."
Again, Reb picked up his left hand and scrutinized the lines in his palm. "Hm," she said speculatively. "However, it looks to me like it will all be very much worth it."
Vince smiled to himself. "Always has been." He caught Stuart's eye through the glass once again and held that irresistible sapphire gaze for a long moment.
Stuart blew him a kiss that he could actual feel all around him in the soft night air.
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Brian:
Exhausted from a day of perpetual sightseeing, Brian flopped on the bed in Michael's room at Claridge's and let out a heavy sigh. Michael sat in a chair by the window rummaging through the assortment of bags full of souvenirs he'd bought that day. Apparently he was looking for something.
"Do you remember where we got that snow globe of Tower Bridge?" he said. "Was it at that store in Piccadilly or was it at the dungeon gift shop?"
"Piccadilly," Brian said, remembering the moment when Michael picked up the snow globe in question. His dark eyes had sparkled gleefully as he shook the globe and watched the little flecks of white glitter tumble around the small plastic replica of Tower Bridge. They had just come from shopping in a string of high-end men's clothing stores where Brian spent a total of $7,000. A bespoke suit at Gieves & Hawkes, six bespoke shirts from New & Lingwood and some more casual work clothes from Selfridges. He knew he'd done well and he couldn't wait for his custom made stuff to arrive back home in Pittsburgh.
"That's right," Michael said and then went back to his rummaging.
The sound of the crinkling sacks became a din in the background as Brian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He'd managed to take Michael almost everywhere he wanted to go that day. The only attraction they'd missed was Madame Tussaud's. The line to get in had been too long so they decided to do it another time. Brian figured they could make a long afternoon of that on Friday and then go out somewhere nice for dinner for their last night in London. Staying so busy was tiring, but it was also keeping his mind off Stuart Jones. If Brian thought about it for too long, his bones would start to ache with longing.
"Ah ha!" Michael said, making Brian open his eyes and look over at his friend.
"What?"
Grinning, Michael got up from the chair and trotted over to the bed with a small object in his hand that was wrapped in tissue paper. "I got you something when I knew you weren't looking. I forgot where I put it at first, but I knew it was in the same bag as the snow globe. It's just a little keepsake."
Brian sat up with a little smile and took the tissue wrapped object from Michael. "You didn't have to get me a present, Mikey."
"It's nothing really." Michael's cheeks were flushed as he watched Brian unwrap the object.
Under about ten layers of tissue was a travel-sized bottle of absinthe. Brian laughed when he saw it, remembering how drunk and silly they were the night they'd discovered the drink in Covent Garden.
"It's just to remember how much fun we had that night," Michael said. "I hope they don't stop you at customs cuz of it."
Brian gave him a kiss on the lips and touched their foreheads together. "I'll shove it in my dildo where the batteries go. Believe me, customs won't look too closely at that."
"Brian!" Michael laughed. "You did NOT bring a dildo here."
"I didn't?" Brian blinked in mock innocence. "No, actually I didn't. I bought one here. It's amazing, Mikey. It's European. It has three vibrating heads and can say dirty words in nine languages."
Michael just rolled his eyes.
Brian slipped the little bottle of absinthe into the pocket of his shirt then he laid back down on the bed. "Are we done for the night or do you want to go out again?"
Michael looked at his watch. "10:30. I guess we're done. I am kinda tired, but I'm not really ready to go to sleep yet."
Brian grabbed the remote off the bedside table and turned on the television. He tuned to the channel provided by the hotel that listed all the cable movies they had on offer for the evening. Scanning the list of titles, he frowned. "Looks like we can chose from `Die Hard', `The Avengers' or `A Bug's Life'."
"Oh, `A Bug's Life'! I love that movie! It's so funny!" Michael cried. "What time does it start?"
"I think it starts whenever we tell it to." Brian clicked on the `order' button and the screen went immediately to the opening credits of the film. "Yep. There we go. Maybe room service can bring us some popcorn." He fluffed up the pillows against the headboard then kicked off his shoes.
Michael took off his jacket then his own shoes and crawled on the bed beside his friend. They sat with their legs outstretched and their backs propped on pillows waiting for the film to get underway.
"Where's the room service menu," Brian said.
"We don't need popcorn. We've been eating all day." Michael got the menu out of a drawer in the bedside table and handed it over.
"I want something to drink." Brian flipped through the menu to the wine list. He was in the mood for something smooth and red and maybe something light to munch on. After taking a cursory look through the choices available, he asked Michael to give him the phone. He ordered a bottle of Merlot and a plate of fruit and cheese. "Do you want anything else?" he asked before he hung up.
"Maybe something sweet," Michael said.
Glancing at the dessert page, Brian ordered a plate of scones with jam and clotted cream. "You'll like that," he said as he handed the phone back. "It's very British and pretty tasty."
"Great." Michael stretched out beside him but he couldn't disguise the fact that he was still a bit tense. He had been all day.
Brian looked at him sideways and then he rolled over on the bed facing his friend. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." His dark eyes widened slightly in alarm like they always did when Brian confronted him. "Why?"
"You've been a little . . . quiet today. Still pissed about last night?"
His expression of mild alarm gave way to one of irritation. "Brian, let's not talk about that. You were on drugs. You weren't behaving like yourself. Just forget it."
"I was completely coherent, Michael. The drug that doctor gave me was a muscle relaxer, not an hallucinogen. I knew what I was doing."
Michael's frown deepened and he sat forward a bit. "So, you're saying you acted like a fucking asshole to me on purpose? Brian, you were depressed. I was trying to help you!"
He looked down at his hands. "Mikey, what have I done every single time in the history of the world when you tried to help me when I was depressed? Think about it now. What have I always done?"
Heaving a sigh, Michael flopped back on the pillows. He was still frowning but his expression was somewhat more understanding. "Acted like a fucking asshole to push me away," he replied.
"Correct, Mr. Novotny. Move on to round two!" Brian tried a smile but Michael was having none of him.
Giving his friend a hard shove in the arm, Michael said "you're a dick, Brian."
"Oh THAT's news. Come on. What do you want me to say?"
"That you're sorry, dumbass!" he shouted. "For once in your life just apologize for hurting someone." Michael stared hard at him, his eyes flinty and relentless. It was clear that he could wait all day for that apology even if he knew it would most likely never come.
Brian heard himself saying it before he even had time to think about it. "I'm sorry, Michael." He made sure his friend could see right into his eyes so he would know Brian meant it.
All the steely resolve drained out of Michael in one instant. He seemed to melt with forgiveness. "Holy shit," he said, quietly amazed. "I'm glad I was sitting down for that."
Brian looked away again, reeling from the moment of vulnerability and stinging from Michael's last remark. Fuck, he hated the way Michael could disarm him. Brian had nothing more to say just then so he stayed quiet, frowning down at the pattern on the bedspread. He knew he was pouting but he didn't care. After what felt like an eternity, Michael lifted his chin on the end of his finger.
In his constantly reliable way, he said "look, forget it. I'm really happy you apologized. I promise I won't ever tell anyone you did it." He laughed gently. "Let's just put all this crap behind us, okay?"
Brian just looked at his friend, wishing he knew the right thing to say. He wished he could simply TELL Michael how much he needed him, how much he loved him and how glad he was that Michael was there with him in London. But he couldn't say any of that. Saying any one of those things would open him up even more than he already was. Brian decided he'd shed enough blood for one week and he just smiled weakly and laid back down on the bed to watch the movie.
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