Counting cars
I find myself wrapped around him as always, my head on his chest, listening, as always, to the steady, slow, runner’s beat of his heart. As always. The sun filters through into what is now our bedroom. I smile against his chest and, as always, he notices. Just for good measure, I give his nipple a good hard twist
“Ow!” he whines. Brian whines. I so own his ass if I ever record that. Note to self: keep the cell close by. “What the fuck was that for?”
“For annoying me.” I tell him. Not that he did but whatever. “Now get your ass up!”
“Justin,” he moans through the pillow he has pulled across his face. “It’s New fucking Year’s fucking Day. Get your ass back over here or shut the fuck up. Right now, either will do. I’m going back to sleep.”
“Oh, no you’re not, old man!” I tug the pillow and the bedclothes away from him and am, as always, stunned by just how beautiful Brian truly is. He groans and bitches but takes the hand I offer him.
Considering that we blew off the New Year’s Eve party for a late afternoon “salon” as Brian has chosen to refer to it and a couple of toasts with a way too fucking expensive private cuvee that he referred to as “far too good for those losers you insist on feeding today.”
It will be just us, Ted, Cyn, Adam, Brog and Parker, Charlie of course (Brian so loves her), Phillip and Cat, the usual suspects. Em is no doubt stomping his feet still after we told him about the change of plans but whatever. We love him anyway even though Brian would die before he would admit it. Em is doing an amazing thing for us today - “No charge, sweetie,” he insisted. “You two have done more than enough for me. Leave “les amuse bouches” up to me.” Sophie will tell him to shut up.
That so scares me since he’s been cruising the scene here. But whatever, I’m so happy Em is here. He and Charlie just “Je t’adore” as Charlie says. Or whatever.
Right now, though, this is about Brian and me and our new home.
Phillip did good, I think as I tug Brian into my studio. My studio in OUR home. OUR HOME in New York City. Did I ever see this coming on that night beneath that lamplight on Liberty Ave? No. Did I ever anticipate the day that I would be completely and totally partnered to the most wonderfully fucked up man on the planet?
Yes, with every breath.
Well most of them anyway.
Except for here and there.
But that’s not important.
We’re here in our new home and as I lead him to the middle of my space, I pause a moment to punch up the video on the flatscreen he installed for me.
He hears the song, sees the video and smiles.