"Queer Identities" -- Chapter 98 "Maybe I'm Amazed"
After the ceremony -- what now?
This is Chapter 98 in the "Queer Identities" series.
The narrator is Justin Taylor, and features Brian Kinney, Leslie Marn, Dorian Folco, Diane Rhys, Jennifer Taylor, Molly Taylor, Others.
Rated R and contains no warnings or spoilers.
Summary: Amazement. San Francisco, February 2004.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. This is for fun, not profit. Enjoy.
Earlier "QI" chapters online and on the LJ are here:
http://www.fortruthis.net/gaelmcgear/Gaedhalficpage.html
http://www.fortruthis.net/gaedhal/
Most recent "QI" chapters on the LJ are here:
Ch. 95 "Like a Rose"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/439245.html
Ch. 96 "Impromptu"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/439677.html
Ch. 97 "When My Boy Walks Down the Street"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/440368.html
By Gaedhal
"Maybe I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time,
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you.
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time,
Hung me on a line,
Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you.
Maybe I'm a man and maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand.
Maybe I'm a man and maybe you're the only person
Who could ever help me --
Baby, won't you help to me understand?"
***
I'm going to kill Brian.
Kill him. Murder him. Strangle him. Smother him in his sleep. I'm going to do all those things.
But first I'm going to kiss him.
"Happy, twat?"
"What do you think, asshole!"
They have a microphone set up on the steps outside of City Hall. Leslie says that Brian is expected to make a statement. She's already passed out a press release. Leslie is always super prepared. We walk out the door to people screaming and cameras clicking. There are television cameras, too, pointed at us.
Brian looks nervous. He's usually so cool in public, but not today. "Do I have to do this?" he mumbles to Leslie.
She raises an eyebrow. "You can't not make a statement, Brian. After all, it's not every day that a major movie star gets gay married."
Brian makes a sour face. "We're not gay married. We're fucking married -- period!"
"A lot of people don't think so," Leslie counters. "The courts might shut this down any minute and make all these weddings invalid."
"Like fuck they will!" Now Brian is revved up.
"We're right behind you, Bridie," says Diane. She's clutching her bridesmaid's bouquet. Dorian is looking up at the sky, wondering if it's going to start pouring again. And Mom and Molly are gaping at the crowd, wide-eyed.
Brian steps up to the microphone and takes a deep breath. I'm right beside him, holding his hand.
"I'd like to welcome you all here today to our wedding." And everyone laughs. "I didn't know there'd be so many people. I don't remember sending out all these invitations." Now they're really laughing. Brian should do a comedy. He's got great timing -- when he wants to. "But seriously -- this is an important day, not only for me and for my partner -- I mean new husband, Justin." He holds up my hand. "But for all the gay men and women who got married today, and in the past few days, and all the ones who will in the future, not only here, but elsewhere. And by that I mean in other states in this country, and, eventually, all the states of this country. Because it will happen. Maybe not tomorrow, or even next year, but eventually. Because it's the right thing and we as a country always do the right thing -- eventually. We might be a little slow sometimes, it might take a little time or a lot of time, but we'll do it, as a nation, and as a people. Because everyone deserves the right to be equal. Everyone deserves the right to be happy. Those things we all cherish -- life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness -- those things can't be denied. They won't be denied. I wish everyone who got married here today a happy and wonderful life together -- and I hope they would wish me and Justin the same. And that's all I have to say. Thank you."
I hear cheers. Even the reporters are applauding. And I see people in the crowd crying. Diane is crying and so is my mom and Leslie turns away, brushing at her cheek with the back of her hand.
"Women," I say. "They need to butch up!"
"Justin! Say something!" one of the reporters yells.
Brian nods and I stand in front of the mic. "All I have to say is that this is amazing! And that I'm so fu... damn... darned happy." I feel my face go red.
"Good public speaking, Sunshine," says Brian, prodding me. "Let's get in the fucking limo and get out of here."
We get in and head back to the hotel. Just before we get there, the sky opens up and I hear the rumble of thunder.
That's when Brian squeezes my hand very tightly.
"Brian, are you okay?"
"I'll be fine. We're almost at the hotel."
There are more reporters waiting at the Mandarin Oriental. Obviously the word is out about the wedding. Luckily, the hotel has security people also waiting for us. One of the managers is standing with an umbrella. The photographer Leslie hired gets out first, snapping pictures. Then my mom and Molly get out and go inside under the umbrella, then the manager comes back for Diane and Dorian.
"You two go next," says Leslie. "I'll bring up the rear."
"You'll get wet," I say.
"None of us will melt in the fucking rain," says Brian as he climbs out of the car, not bothering to wait for the guy with the umbrella. It's raining harder now and the water is spotting his beautiful suit. But he doesn't seem to notice. He waves at the people who have gathered to see what's going on. Then he guides me into the hotel. Once inside he shakes the rain from his hair like a dog. That's when I see how pale his face is.
"Brian needs to go directly upstairs," I tell Leslie. "Now."
Up in the suite there's a cake with purple frosting flowers and the words "Congratulations Brian & Justin!" in pink letters. And there are real flowers and balloons all over the room. It looks like a crazy florist shop. The photographer immediately takes pictures of the cake and the flowers.
"Someone's been busy," says Brian, looking at Leslie.
"Oh! It's beautiful!" my mom cries and Molly grabs a balloon and starts dancing around the room.
"I thought we'd go to dinner a little early," says Dorian. "Diane and I are flying back later tonight. I have a meeting and Diane has an interview tomorrow, so we can't stay."
"Yeah," Brian says. "That's fine."
But I can tell he's not feeling too great. I can see it on his face and in his body language. He goes to the fridge and opens a bottle of water, chugging it.
Diane touches his arm. "Can I make you some tea -- or something?"
But he shakes his head. "I need to use the can. I'll be right back." And he goes into the bedroom and closes the door.
"What's wrong?" Mom asks.
"I think Brian's feeling queasy. He'll be all right." I hope.
Mom is unsure. "Should we go back to our room now?"
"What about the cake?" Molly is staring at the purple frosting flowers.
"You want a piece, Mollusk? Give me a plate."
Mom looks at the closed bedroom door. "Are you sure Brian won't mind if you cut it?"
"Believe me, he won't mind." I pick up the knife, which has a white bow tied around it.
"Who won't mind?" Brian comes out of the bedroom. "Aren't we supposed to do that together?"
I take a deep breath. "If you want to."
"Of course." Brian holds his head up high. "Dorian, I see a bottle of champagne chilling on the bar. Why don't you open it?"
Dorian nods. "I think a toast would be in order." He opens the bottle deftly, catching the cork before it flies across the room -- I think Dorian has had a lot of experience with champagne in his time. He pours glasses for everyone, with a small one for Brian. Then he opens a big bottle of ginger ale and pours a glass for Molly. "For you, my dear."
She takes it from Dorian like a princess. "Thank you," she says grandly and I have to laugh.
"As the Best Man I would like to offer a few words about the Happy Couple," Dorian begins. "I think they are well suited to each other because both of them are pigheaded, insufferable, and certifiably bonkers. This makes them a perfect match, as no one else would be able to stand them for longer than a few minutes. And I say that with the greatest affection."
"Amen!" chimes in Diane.
"So charge your glasses and drink to Brian and Justin. To a long and happy life together!"
"I'll drink to that," says Brian, taking a tiny sip of the champagne. But I drink mine right down. I need some alcohol in my system.
"A kiss? Please?" says the photographer.
"Sure," says Brian. He grabs me and bends me backward in a real Hollywood kiss.
"Get a room!" Diane yells.
"We have one," says Brian. "Right here. Now, anyone want cake?"
"Me!" Molly squeals.
"Cut it together, please," directs the photographer. "Both holding the knife for the first cut."
Brian sighs, but he puts his hand over mine and we cut the cake. I finish cutting the first slice and hold it up to his mouth.
"If you smash that cake in my fucking face, this marriage is over," Brian warns.
"I won't." And I don't. He takes a bite and then I take one. Mom takes over cutting the rest of the pieces, with Molly getting the next one. I finish up the rest of our piece. I know Brian isn't feeling well, but he doesn't want to ruin the moment for everyone else. So I'm watching him closely. I don't want him to over-do it.
I pull Dorian aside. "I think Brian is flagging."
"Yes, I noticed," he replies. "Perhaps we could just order room service and have a quiet dinner here. After all the publicity this afternoon, it might be impossible to have a meal at the restaurant anyway."
"I think that's a good idea. Could you tell Leslie to call down and make the arrangements?"
"Certainly." Dorian squeezes my shoulder. "I told Brian this surprise was not a good idea, but you seem to be holding up quite well."
"I admit it was a big shock, but it's all happened so fast I haven't been able to process it."
Dorian is serious. "Is it what you want? Truly?"
"Yes," I say. And I mean it. "It is what I want. It's what I've always wanted -- Brian. That's all that matters." I pause. "But I will make him pay for all this later. And pay and pay and pay!"
Dorian laughs. "I assumed as much."
Brian comes over to us. "What are you two conspiring about?"
"Nothing," I say. "You. And how I'm going to take my revenge for pulling this stunt."
"Stunt is right," he says. "Listen, do you mind if I lie down for a little while? Just a few minutes..."
"No, go ahead," I tell him. "We're just going to order room service. If that's okay?"
Brian's starting to look a little green. "Great. I'm just over-tired, that's all."
"It's fine," I say. "You relax. I'll take care of the rest."
***
Room service brings up an amazing meal from their restaurant, Silks. All Asian fusion food, with cute waiters to serve it. It's like we have a private dining room. My mother oohs and ahs over everything and everybody eats a ton of amazing food.
Everyone except Brian. He seems steadier after his cat nap, but he only nibbles a little here and there and drinks a lot of ginger ale out of his champagne glass. He and Molly sit next to each other, sharing the big plastic bottle of ginger ale.
I'm not sure why he's sick today since he didn't have a treatment this morning. It could be nerves. Or just everything catching up with him. But he powers through in his typical Brian way, pretending nothing is wrong.
Mom keeps looking at him with a concerned expression. We haven't really talked too much about his cancer, but I can tell it worries her now that she's seeing its impact up close. Diane is watching Brian, too. They're like a couple of mother hens. I know they both want to bundle Brian into bed and pour chicken soup down his throat, but that's not how you nurse Brian Kinney -- if you nurse him at all. You have to let him take the lead.
We finish dinner while the photographer takes a few final pictures and then packs up his gear.
"If any of those shots turn up in the 'National Enquirer,' you're fish food," Brian deadpans. He stands way close to him, staring down with the famous Kinney Death Glare. "You get my drift?"
"Oh, no, Mr. Kinney! I would never do that!" the man gulps.
"See that you don't."
Diane and Dorian have to catch their flight back to L.A., so there are kisses all around. "I'll call you, cutie," Diane says to me. "Take care of that pain-in-the-ass husband of yours. And he is all yours now."
"I know. And I will."
Molly has one more piece of cake and then she and my mom go down to their room. Tomorrow the limo is taking us all on a tour of the city -- the Golden Gate Bridge, Fisherman's Wharf, the cable cars, The Presidio, Nob Hill. I also want to see the Castro, but Brian says if you want to really see the Castro you don't go with your mother.
Leslie is the last to leave. She seems exhausted.
"Why don't you take the rest of the weekend off?" Brian suggests. "You've done enough. Enjoy your room and the city -- or catch that flight back with Diane and Dorian. Go home and sleep for a couple of days."
"But Brian..."
He guides her to the door. "Justin and I are big boys. I think we can take care of ourselves for a few days. The hard part is over -- the deed is done. Now it's only the fucking fallout."
After Leslie leaves Brian puts out the Do Not Disturb sign and double locks the door. "Alone at last!"
"Are you going to have your wicked way with me, Brian?"
Brian smiles. "That ship has sailed, Sunshine." He stretches -- and winces.
"Why don't I give you a massage? Get into the Jacuzzi, look at the lights on the Bridge, and relax. Then I'll give you a rubdown that will blow your mind."
"Sounds like a plan."
The hotel has provided all sorts of toiletries, including some body lotion. Mandarin orange and mint. It smells good.
"How's the tub?"
"Wet. And warm," says Brian. "Like your ass. Get in."
I drop my robe and climb in. "The view really is amazing."
"Views are a dime a dozen," he whispers. His lips are on my neck. I close my eyes. Maybe this is it. Maybe the curse will be broken.
But then he stops. "I'm sorry for being a fucking asshole."
I laugh. "When was this? I mean -- which time?"
"All the times. Listen, I don't do the apology thing very well, but that doesn't mean I don't feel it."
"Like the 'I love you' thing?"
"Yeah, I've been lousy at that, too," he admits. "But I'm getting better."
"Yes," I assure him. "You're getting better."
"This whole cancer thing... it's freaking me out!"
"No shit! That's not something you're exactly hiding very well."
Brian sighs. "I know."
The tub, the lights, the moment -- it all seems perfect. But there's never a perfect moment that I can let go, as Brian often reminds me.
"Why?" I ask.
"Why what?" he replies.
"Why did you change your mind? Is it only because of... the cancer?"
"Of course not!" Brian sniffs. "Well, not completely. The cancer has -- how do I put this? -- brought a lot of things into focus. Let's face it, we've been through a shitload in our relationship -- you got thrown out by your old man, my old man died, you got bashed, I took a powder, I went slightly nuts for a while, you tracked me down and brought me to my senses, Ron died, I did the rehab thing, you did your thing..." He pauses. "I almost lost you more times then I want to admit."
"I almost lost YOU, Brian!" I tell him.
"Not really," he says. "It was never any contest. I tried it with Ron, but it was never meant to be. I knew that right from the start. I was missing you the entire time. Remember those fucking calls in the middle of the night?"
"How could I forget. That was a long, dark winter, Brian."
"I know. It was for me, too, even in sunny California. I tried to stop myself from calling because I knew you'd be better off without me..."
"Bullshit," I whisper.
"I still think that, you know," he says softly. "I'll always think that. That you can do better than me. That you can do better with your life. I've never wanted to stop you, Justin. I've never wanted you to feel... obligated to me for any reason."
"Believe me, Brian," I laugh. "Obligated is the last thing I feel toward you!"
He holds me tighter against him as he stares out the window at the lights on the Bridge. "I keep thinking that you have your whole life ahead of you. That... that you'll be the one to leave me. That you're too young to hook up with someone like me for... for a long time."
That's it in a nutshell. That's always been the problem. Brian's deep and real belief that he isn't good enough, no matter what he accomplishes. No matter what I do to tell him differently.
"Forever," I say.
"Never say 'forever,'" he returns. "I didn't say that in the vows I wrote. I said as long as we both love each other. I never want you to feel you have to stay, especially if..." His voice trails off.
"No 'ifs'! And I mean that. If you're sick, then we'll deal with it -- together. And if anything happens to me, then we'll deal with that, too. And about that love thing -- you aren't going to weasel out of loving me, Brian." I show him the ring, which is slightly soapy from the bubbles of the Jacuzzi. "See this? And here's yours." I pick up his left hand and indicate the ring on his finger. "That means something. Which I assume you know about, since you arranged this whole crazy deal, including the rings. Now you're really stuck with me. Because when I want something, I get it. And when I stick to something, I really stick to it."
"So I've found out," says Brian. He shivers, even though the water is warm. "Let's get in bed. My fingers and toes are starting to shrivel up."
In the bed I give Brian a great massage, using the orange and mint scented lotion. He's so tense, especially his shoulders, but I rub and knead and rub some more. Then I lightly kiss him all over, starting at the back of his neck and working my way down his long, long back, his soft butt, and those long, long legs. Then I gently turn him over.
He's sound asleep. There's that wheezing his deviated septum makes as he breathes in and out. Those long nights after he left Pittsburgh -- how I remember that sound over the phone when he didn't say a word. Brian, Brian, Brian!
I stroke his cock and think I feel a slight stirring. But he's so peaceful I don't want to wake him up. He looks so beautiful, sleeping.
And he's mine. My husband.
It blows my mind, no fucking kidding!
I pull the covers over both of us and close my eyes.
Married.
It's amazing!
***
"Maybe I'm amazed at the way you're with me all the time,
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I'll leave you.
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you help me sing my song,
You right me when I'm wrong,
Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you.
Maybe I'm a man and maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand.
Maybe I'm a man and maybe you're the only person
Who could ever help me --
Baby, won't you help me understand?"
'Cause, Baby, I'm amazed!
Baby, I'm amazed!
Amazed with you!"
(McCartney)
This is Chapter 98 in the "Queer Identities" series.
The narrator is Justin Taylor, and features Brian Kinney, Leslie Marn, Dorian Folco, Diane Rhys, Jennifer Taylor, Molly Taylor, Others.
Rated R and contains no warnings or spoilers.
Summary: Amazement. San Francisco, February 2004.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. This is for fun, not profit. Enjoy.
Earlier "QI" chapters online and on the LJ are here:
http://www.fortruthis.net/gaelmcgear/Gaedhalficpage.html
http://www.fortruthis.net/gaedhal/
Most recent "QI" chapters on the LJ are here:
Ch. 95 "Like a Rose"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/439245.html
Ch. 96 "Impromptu"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/439677.html
Ch. 97 "When My Boy Walks Down the Street"
http://gaedhal.livejournal.com/440368.html
By Gaedhal
"Maybe I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time,
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you.
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time,
Hung me on a line,
Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you.
Maybe I'm a man and maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand.
Maybe I'm a man and maybe you're the only person
Who could ever help me --
Baby, won't you help to me understand?"
***
I'm going to kill Brian.
Kill him. Murder him. Strangle him. Smother him in his sleep. I'm going to do all those things.
But first I'm going to kiss him.
"Happy, twat?"
"What do you think, asshole!"
They have a microphone set up on the steps outside of City Hall. Leslie says that Brian is expected to make a statement. She's already passed out a press release. Leslie is always super prepared. We walk out the door to people screaming and cameras clicking. There are television cameras, too, pointed at us.
Brian looks nervous. He's usually so cool in public, but not today. "Do I have to do this?" he mumbles to Leslie.
She raises an eyebrow. "You can't not make a statement, Brian. After all, it's not every day that a major movie star gets gay married."
Brian makes a sour face. "We're not gay married. We're fucking married -- period!"
"A lot of people don't think so," Leslie counters. "The courts might shut this down any minute and make all these weddings invalid."
"Like fuck they will!" Now Brian is revved up.
"We're right behind you, Bridie," says Diane. She's clutching her bridesmaid's bouquet. Dorian is looking up at the sky, wondering if it's going to start pouring again. And Mom and Molly are gaping at the crowd, wide-eyed.
Brian steps up to the microphone and takes a deep breath. I'm right beside him, holding his hand.
"I'd like to welcome you all here today to our wedding." And everyone laughs. "I didn't know there'd be so many people. I don't remember sending out all these invitations." Now they're really laughing. Brian should do a comedy. He's got great timing -- when he wants to. "But seriously -- this is an important day, not only for me and for my partner -- I mean new husband, Justin." He holds up my hand. "But for all the gay men and women who got married today, and in the past few days, and all the ones who will in the future, not only here, but elsewhere. And by that I mean in other states in this country, and, eventually, all the states of this country. Because it will happen. Maybe not tomorrow, or even next year, but eventually. Because it's the right thing and we as a country always do the right thing -- eventually. We might be a little slow sometimes, it might take a little time or a lot of time, but we'll do it, as a nation, and as a people. Because everyone deserves the right to be equal. Everyone deserves the right to be happy. Those things we all cherish -- life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness -- those things can't be denied. They won't be denied. I wish everyone who got married here today a happy and wonderful life together -- and I hope they would wish me and Justin the same. And that's all I have to say. Thank you."
I hear cheers. Even the reporters are applauding. And I see people in the crowd crying. Diane is crying and so is my mom and Leslie turns away, brushing at her cheek with the back of her hand.
"Women," I say. "They need to butch up!"
"Justin! Say something!" one of the reporters yells.
Brian nods and I stand in front of the mic. "All I have to say is that this is amazing! And that I'm so fu... damn... darned happy." I feel my face go red.
"Good public speaking, Sunshine," says Brian, prodding me. "Let's get in the fucking limo and get out of here."
We get in and head back to the hotel. Just before we get there, the sky opens up and I hear the rumble of thunder.
That's when Brian squeezes my hand very tightly.
"Brian, are you okay?"
"I'll be fine. We're almost at the hotel."
There are more reporters waiting at the Mandarin Oriental. Obviously the word is out about the wedding. Luckily, the hotel has security people also waiting for us. One of the managers is standing with an umbrella. The photographer Leslie hired gets out first, snapping pictures. Then my mom and Molly get out and go inside under the umbrella, then the manager comes back for Diane and Dorian.
"You two go next," says Leslie. "I'll bring up the rear."
"You'll get wet," I say.
"None of us will melt in the fucking rain," says Brian as he climbs out of the car, not bothering to wait for the guy with the umbrella. It's raining harder now and the water is spotting his beautiful suit. But he doesn't seem to notice. He waves at the people who have gathered to see what's going on. Then he guides me into the hotel. Once inside he shakes the rain from his hair like a dog. That's when I see how pale his face is.
"Brian needs to go directly upstairs," I tell Leslie. "Now."
Up in the suite there's a cake with purple frosting flowers and the words "Congratulations Brian & Justin!" in pink letters. And there are real flowers and balloons all over the room. It looks like a crazy florist shop. The photographer immediately takes pictures of the cake and the flowers.
"Someone's been busy," says Brian, looking at Leslie.
"Oh! It's beautiful!" my mom cries and Molly grabs a balloon and starts dancing around the room.
"I thought we'd go to dinner a little early," says Dorian. "Diane and I are flying back later tonight. I have a meeting and Diane has an interview tomorrow, so we can't stay."
"Yeah," Brian says. "That's fine."
But I can tell he's not feeling too great. I can see it on his face and in his body language. He goes to the fridge and opens a bottle of water, chugging it.
Diane touches his arm. "Can I make you some tea -- or something?"
But he shakes his head. "I need to use the can. I'll be right back." And he goes into the bedroom and closes the door.
"What's wrong?" Mom asks.
"I think Brian's feeling queasy. He'll be all right." I hope.
Mom is unsure. "Should we go back to our room now?"
"What about the cake?" Molly is staring at the purple frosting flowers.
"You want a piece, Mollusk? Give me a plate."
Mom looks at the closed bedroom door. "Are you sure Brian won't mind if you cut it?"
"Believe me, he won't mind." I pick up the knife, which has a white bow tied around it.
"Who won't mind?" Brian comes out of the bedroom. "Aren't we supposed to do that together?"
I take a deep breath. "If you want to."
"Of course." Brian holds his head up high. "Dorian, I see a bottle of champagne chilling on the bar. Why don't you open it?"
Dorian nods. "I think a toast would be in order." He opens the bottle deftly, catching the cork before it flies across the room -- I think Dorian has had a lot of experience with champagne in his time. He pours glasses for everyone, with a small one for Brian. Then he opens a big bottle of ginger ale and pours a glass for Molly. "For you, my dear."
She takes it from Dorian like a princess. "Thank you," she says grandly and I have to laugh.
"As the Best Man I would like to offer a few words about the Happy Couple," Dorian begins. "I think they are well suited to each other because both of them are pigheaded, insufferable, and certifiably bonkers. This makes them a perfect match, as no one else would be able to stand them for longer than a few minutes. And I say that with the greatest affection."
"Amen!" chimes in Diane.
"So charge your glasses and drink to Brian and Justin. To a long and happy life together!"
"I'll drink to that," says Brian, taking a tiny sip of the champagne. But I drink mine right down. I need some alcohol in my system.
"A kiss? Please?" says the photographer.
"Sure," says Brian. He grabs me and bends me backward in a real Hollywood kiss.
"Get a room!" Diane yells.
"We have one," says Brian. "Right here. Now, anyone want cake?"
"Me!" Molly squeals.
"Cut it together, please," directs the photographer. "Both holding the knife for the first cut."
Brian sighs, but he puts his hand over mine and we cut the cake. I finish cutting the first slice and hold it up to his mouth.
"If you smash that cake in my fucking face, this marriage is over," Brian warns.
"I won't." And I don't. He takes a bite and then I take one. Mom takes over cutting the rest of the pieces, with Molly getting the next one. I finish up the rest of our piece. I know Brian isn't feeling well, but he doesn't want to ruin the moment for everyone else. So I'm watching him closely. I don't want him to over-do it.
I pull Dorian aside. "I think Brian is flagging."
"Yes, I noticed," he replies. "Perhaps we could just order room service and have a quiet dinner here. After all the publicity this afternoon, it might be impossible to have a meal at the restaurant anyway."
"I think that's a good idea. Could you tell Leslie to call down and make the arrangements?"
"Certainly." Dorian squeezes my shoulder. "I told Brian this surprise was not a good idea, but you seem to be holding up quite well."
"I admit it was a big shock, but it's all happened so fast I haven't been able to process it."
Dorian is serious. "Is it what you want? Truly?"
"Yes," I say. And I mean it. "It is what I want. It's what I've always wanted -- Brian. That's all that matters." I pause. "But I will make him pay for all this later. And pay and pay and pay!"
Dorian laughs. "I assumed as much."
Brian comes over to us. "What are you two conspiring about?"
"Nothing," I say. "You. And how I'm going to take my revenge for pulling this stunt."
"Stunt is right," he says. "Listen, do you mind if I lie down for a little while? Just a few minutes..."
"No, go ahead," I tell him. "We're just going to order room service. If that's okay?"
Brian's starting to look a little green. "Great. I'm just over-tired, that's all."
"It's fine," I say. "You relax. I'll take care of the rest."
***
Room service brings up an amazing meal from their restaurant, Silks. All Asian fusion food, with cute waiters to serve it. It's like we have a private dining room. My mother oohs and ahs over everything and everybody eats a ton of amazing food.
Everyone except Brian. He seems steadier after his cat nap, but he only nibbles a little here and there and drinks a lot of ginger ale out of his champagne glass. He and Molly sit next to each other, sharing the big plastic bottle of ginger ale.
I'm not sure why he's sick today since he didn't have a treatment this morning. It could be nerves. Or just everything catching up with him. But he powers through in his typical Brian way, pretending nothing is wrong.
Mom keeps looking at him with a concerned expression. We haven't really talked too much about his cancer, but I can tell it worries her now that she's seeing its impact up close. Diane is watching Brian, too. They're like a couple of mother hens. I know they both want to bundle Brian into bed and pour chicken soup down his throat, but that's not how you nurse Brian Kinney -- if you nurse him at all. You have to let him take the lead.
We finish dinner while the photographer takes a few final pictures and then packs up his gear.
"If any of those shots turn up in the 'National Enquirer,' you're fish food," Brian deadpans. He stands way close to him, staring down with the famous Kinney Death Glare. "You get my drift?"
"Oh, no, Mr. Kinney! I would never do that!" the man gulps.
"See that you don't."
Diane and Dorian have to catch their flight back to L.A., so there are kisses all around. "I'll call you, cutie," Diane says to me. "Take care of that pain-in-the-ass husband of yours. And he is all yours now."
"I know. And I will."
Molly has one more piece of cake and then she and my mom go down to their room. Tomorrow the limo is taking us all on a tour of the city -- the Golden Gate Bridge, Fisherman's Wharf, the cable cars, The Presidio, Nob Hill. I also want to see the Castro, but Brian says if you want to really see the Castro you don't go with your mother.
Leslie is the last to leave. She seems exhausted.
"Why don't you take the rest of the weekend off?" Brian suggests. "You've done enough. Enjoy your room and the city -- or catch that flight back with Diane and Dorian. Go home and sleep for a couple of days."
"But Brian..."
He guides her to the door. "Justin and I are big boys. I think we can take care of ourselves for a few days. The hard part is over -- the deed is done. Now it's only the fucking fallout."
After Leslie leaves Brian puts out the Do Not Disturb sign and double locks the door. "Alone at last!"
"Are you going to have your wicked way with me, Brian?"
Brian smiles. "That ship has sailed, Sunshine." He stretches -- and winces.
"Why don't I give you a massage? Get into the Jacuzzi, look at the lights on the Bridge, and relax. Then I'll give you a rubdown that will blow your mind."
"Sounds like a plan."
The hotel has provided all sorts of toiletries, including some body lotion. Mandarin orange and mint. It smells good.
"How's the tub?"
"Wet. And warm," says Brian. "Like your ass. Get in."
I drop my robe and climb in. "The view really is amazing."
"Views are a dime a dozen," he whispers. His lips are on my neck. I close my eyes. Maybe this is it. Maybe the curse will be broken.
But then he stops. "I'm sorry for being a fucking asshole."
I laugh. "When was this? I mean -- which time?"
"All the times. Listen, I don't do the apology thing very well, but that doesn't mean I don't feel it."
"Like the 'I love you' thing?"
"Yeah, I've been lousy at that, too," he admits. "But I'm getting better."
"Yes," I assure him. "You're getting better."
"This whole cancer thing... it's freaking me out!"
"No shit! That's not something you're exactly hiding very well."
Brian sighs. "I know."
The tub, the lights, the moment -- it all seems perfect. But there's never a perfect moment that I can let go, as Brian often reminds me.
"Why?" I ask.
"Why what?" he replies.
"Why did you change your mind? Is it only because of... the cancer?"
"Of course not!" Brian sniffs. "Well, not completely. The cancer has -- how do I put this? -- brought a lot of things into focus. Let's face it, we've been through a shitload in our relationship -- you got thrown out by your old man, my old man died, you got bashed, I took a powder, I went slightly nuts for a while, you tracked me down and brought me to my senses, Ron died, I did the rehab thing, you did your thing..." He pauses. "I almost lost you more times then I want to admit."
"I almost lost YOU, Brian!" I tell him.
"Not really," he says. "It was never any contest. I tried it with Ron, but it was never meant to be. I knew that right from the start. I was missing you the entire time. Remember those fucking calls in the middle of the night?"
"How could I forget. That was a long, dark winter, Brian."
"I know. It was for me, too, even in sunny California. I tried to stop myself from calling because I knew you'd be better off without me..."
"Bullshit," I whisper.
"I still think that, you know," he says softly. "I'll always think that. That you can do better than me. That you can do better with your life. I've never wanted to stop you, Justin. I've never wanted you to feel... obligated to me for any reason."
"Believe me, Brian," I laugh. "Obligated is the last thing I feel toward you!"
He holds me tighter against him as he stares out the window at the lights on the Bridge. "I keep thinking that you have your whole life ahead of you. That... that you'll be the one to leave me. That you're too young to hook up with someone like me for... for a long time."
That's it in a nutshell. That's always been the problem. Brian's deep and real belief that he isn't good enough, no matter what he accomplishes. No matter what I do to tell him differently.
"Forever," I say.
"Never say 'forever,'" he returns. "I didn't say that in the vows I wrote. I said as long as we both love each other. I never want you to feel you have to stay, especially if..." His voice trails off.
"No 'ifs'! And I mean that. If you're sick, then we'll deal with it -- together. And if anything happens to me, then we'll deal with that, too. And about that love thing -- you aren't going to weasel out of loving me, Brian." I show him the ring, which is slightly soapy from the bubbles of the Jacuzzi. "See this? And here's yours." I pick up his left hand and indicate the ring on his finger. "That means something. Which I assume you know about, since you arranged this whole crazy deal, including the rings. Now you're really stuck with me. Because when I want something, I get it. And when I stick to something, I really stick to it."
"So I've found out," says Brian. He shivers, even though the water is warm. "Let's get in bed. My fingers and toes are starting to shrivel up."
In the bed I give Brian a great massage, using the orange and mint scented lotion. He's so tense, especially his shoulders, but I rub and knead and rub some more. Then I lightly kiss him all over, starting at the back of his neck and working my way down his long, long back, his soft butt, and those long, long legs. Then I gently turn him over.
He's sound asleep. There's that wheezing his deviated septum makes as he breathes in and out. Those long nights after he left Pittsburgh -- how I remember that sound over the phone when he didn't say a word. Brian, Brian, Brian!
I stroke his cock and think I feel a slight stirring. But he's so peaceful I don't want to wake him up. He looks so beautiful, sleeping.
And he's mine. My husband.
It blows my mind, no fucking kidding!
I pull the covers over both of us and close my eyes.
Married.
It's amazing!
***
"Maybe I'm amazed at the way you're with me all the time,
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I'll leave you.
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you help me sing my song,
You right me when I'm wrong,
Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you.
Maybe I'm a man and maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand.
Maybe I'm a man and maybe you're the only person
Who could ever help me --
Baby, won't you help me understand?"
'Cause, Baby, I'm amazed!
Baby, I'm amazed!
Amazed with you!"
(McCartney)