Tag: gay marriage

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flashdoggy:

Doesn’t have to be anything special – just being by His side is enough.

“This is nice,” Dexter murmured.
“What?” Alexander responded. “Having your beard scratched?”
“Yes, but no…this. Being on vacation. Renting a cabin. Being alone with you.”
“Wow. I’m surprised to hear you say that.”
“Why?” Dexter grunted, barely moving his lips.
“Well, you hated the whole idea. And you got pretty mad when you found out how bad cell service is out here. And that this place doesn’t have wi-fi.”
“Yeah. That is annoying. But… it’s kind of nice not worrying about my phone. I’m not jumping up everytime it goes off.”
“I like that too.”
“You knew exactly what we needed as a couple,” Dexter added. “Time away from life. With us. I miss those days in college when we had nothing to do and we’d just crash at your place and make out, get stoned, and bake all night.”
Alexander smiled. “Those are some of my best memories.”
“Most of my best memories are with you.”
“Aww Dex, that’s, really sweet.”
Dex reached up and gave Alex’s arm a squeeze. “Being with you is amazing. I love seeing your face every day.”
Dex couldn’t see Alex blush. “Dexter~ You’re going to make me choke up.”
“Well, guess I better go all the way then if we’re doing the emotions thing..”
“What?” Alexander asked. “What do you mean?”
“I planned to ask you to marry me some time this year, Alexander, but I’ve never felt more in love with you than I do right now.”
Alex gasped. “Are – are you serious?”
Dex hadn’t moved, and his eyes are barely open. “Don’t let my beached-whale state confuse you. I am completely serious. Will you marry me, Alexander Lockheed?”
“Holy shit! Yes, Dexter. A thousand times yes!”
Dexter smiled. “Good. Then you’ll be mine right and proper and you can force good ideas into my head for the rest of our lives -oof!” Alex had gotten up and crawled onto the narrow sofa with Dexter, which meant practically resting on top of him. “Hello there,” Dexter said. He opened his eyes. and gave a cock-eyed, lazy smile. “Oof elbow, watch out there.”
“I love you so much, Dexter.” Alex kissed him and Dexter’s lids floated close again.
“Mmmnn thatsh nice. I love you more, Alex.”
“That’s impossible. I do.”
“Well we got the rest of our lives for you to realize you’re wrong.”
Alex giggled. “Well, wrong or not, I’m really happy you asked me.”
“I’m happy you said yes,” Dexter said, clearing his throat. He swallowed. “The ring will come later.”
“I imagine it will. I’m not worried,” Alex said. He rested his head on Dexter’s chest. Dexter wrapped his arms around him.

There seemed to be no more words to say, and they both drifted off for an afternoon nap. Around the golden hour, they roused. Alex tugged aside his shorts, and pressed himself against Dexter’s lap. Dexter fumbled for the lube they left on the end table from last night’s Uno insanity, and he knew what to do without really even opening his eyes again. His beefy hands found their way to Alex’s waist, and put him in place. They rocked together in an escalating fashion, breathing becoming more audible in the quiet of the room. Alex whimpered. Dexter cursed. The orgasm gushed between them. Alex rested on Dexter’s body again, only with wet fabric and more flesh between them.  No talking, just kissing, until their bodies dipped down into sleep again.

While Alex’s head was full of dreams about a wedding on the lake and sex on a huge bed, Dex didn’t dream at all. Alex was already his, even without the certificate from the state in agreement or the fancy ceremony. In the kitchen, Dexter’s phone dinged. He barely noticed. Dexter listened to Alex breathe softly against his neck, and forgot about it within minutes.

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Captions are fictional. Oh, hey, a thing.

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“Damn, I had no idea your boss could dance like that.”
“It’s kind of freaking me out. Lieutenant Cranky is actually smiling.”
“Oh come on, it’s funny. Everyone’s having a good time.”
“Yeah…they are. It’s been a fun day.”
“I’m totally drunk right now.”
Tom laughs and pats Rick on the chest. Rick squeezes his arm.
“You had fun huh?”
“Yeah. I’m all funned out.” Rick pauses. “I can’t believe we’re actually married.”
“Yeah, me neither. Hasn’t really set in yet.”
“I know what you mean. Been a long time coming.”
“Yeah,” Tom agrees.
“You
wanna sneak up to the hotel room, order some Thai food, and try to have
sex although we’ll just pass out on top of each-other totally
exhausted; and then wake up in the morning with a terrible taste in our
mouths, shower, and have incredible sex as a married couple and barely make our
flight to Bali?”
Tom laughs. “I’m not sure if that’s an offer or if you’re seeing into the future.”
“A little bit of both,” Rick answers.
“Cause Thai sounds amazing. I mean, the food at the reception was good too, but we barely got to eat any of it.”
“Yeah seriously. So it’s a deal?”
“Done deal.”
“Good. Now help me up, or I’m gonna stay here forever.”
“Whatever you want, hubby.”
“Ok, first rule of our marriage. You are never calling me that again.”
Tom laughs. “I already know I’ve made a good choice in marrying you.”

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Captions are fictional.

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jeanbaptistehuong:

© JBH/BVD-2014 – Paris (France)

Bastien

http://instagram.com/baronnedeneuve

https://vimeo.com/user6983854

Thắng returns from his errand to the post office and frowns when he walks into the house. His husband is sitting in front of the muted TV, cheeks tear-stained. He’s never left for work. Hugh loves his job and hates missing a day. 
“Honey?”

Thắng

says softly. “Are you ok?”
Hugh shakes his head and exhales softly. “No.”

Thắng

glances at the TV. The news was playing. “Is this about what happened in Paris last night?”
Hugh nods.

Thắng

sits next to Hugh and brings the tissue box. Hugh appreciates it, and after blowing his nose, reaches for

Thắng’s hang.

Thắng

squeezes it tight. 
“I was just so stunned last night. Paris is just right across the Channel from us. It just didn’t seem real you know? I went to bed thinking I’d wake up and it was all a bad dream.”
“But it wasn’t,”

Thắng

says softly.

Hugh is quiet for a minute. “Marcie and her boyfriend where there on vacation. Her boyfriend didn’t make it. He was at the cafe.”

Thắng

gasps softly. “The blond she was dating?”
Hugh nods softly and pushes tears out of his eyes again. “Marcie was injured but she’s fine. Physically, at least. I saw her post on Facebook.” 

Thắng

tries to think of something to say but Hugh keeps going.
“It’s just so stupid! It’s just so pointless, so senseless! I mean – why? What does ruining her life have to do with racial Islamic extremist goals? I don’t understand. And the more I think about it, the more sick I feel,

Thắng. And I feel so selfish, cause all I can think right now is if I lost you.”
“Oh honey,”

Thắng

says helplessly, pulling Hugh into his lap in an awkward hug. “But that didn’t happen. You’re here. I am here. It’s a beautiful day here in Manchester. You can’t think of the what-ifs or you’ll go crazy.”
“I feel so helpless. Do we have any control over our lives? Or is each day a miracle that we don’t die in such random accidents?” Hugh sniffles and rubs at his eyes with a tissue.
“Maybe. I think we get into small accidents all the time, but we are incredible survivors. The chance of being killed in something severe has to be so low. I mean – we survived birth. That’s the hardest test to pass isn’t it? 
Hugh shrugs.
“If we lived in fear of horrible things happening all day then we wouldn’t live our lives at all right? I mean you have a much higher chance of dying in a car crash, but that doesn’t stop you from hesitating to get into yours does it?”
Hugh sniffles and released a ragged breath. “I guess not.”
“And no matter how safe of a driver you are, it does nothing to prevent someone from senselessly plows into you. The best thing you can do is just be safe every day and be grateful for what you have, and accept what is out of your control. That’s all you can do. Some things are just out of our control.”
“I’m so sad for Marcie,” Hugh replies. “I don’t know if she’d be comforted by those same words.”
“The guilt over the what-ifs will be hard. Nothing will take that pain away. Only time will lessen it. Supporting her and letting her know she’s not alone in her grief is the best comfort we can give her.”
“I feel silly crying for a man I barely even knew.”

Thắng

clucks. “I’m sure his family wouldn’t feel that way. Also, I think, part of you is mourning for Paris too.”
Hugh snuggles against his husband and sighs. “I love you so much. If anything happens to us, I want you to know that. Even when we have fights and I hate you for two seconds, I still love you.”
“I love you too, Hugh.”
“Can we do something for Marcie? or her boyfriend’s family?”
“I think that’s a very nice thought, Hugh. Let me go talk to her on Facebook and I’ll see what I can do ok?”
Hugh nods. “I think I’m going to go back to bed. I’m exhausted. I was up all night watching the news.”

Thắng looks surprised. “You were?”
“Yeah. I got up after you went to bed. I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking of the bombings in Beirut and the people in Paris. The death toll kept going up and up…”
“But it’s not going up anymore,” Thắng reminds. “The healing process begins now, right? These terrorists want us to live in the present, fear. The most defiant thing we can do is keep moving forward.”
Hugh gives Thắng a loving look. “You are an amazing person for being so positive in a time like this.”

Thắng kisses Hugh on the temple. “I’m just a regular person, Hugh.”
“Just a strong one.”
“I wasn’t always this way. Growing older has taught me a lot of things. So has being married to you,” Thắng answers.
“Good things?”
“Yes.”
Hugh squeezes Thắng’s hand. “I like being married to you too. Can you help me up? My foot’s asleep.”

Thắng helps Hugh to his feet and he shakes his foot awake.

Thắng guides Hugh to the bedroom and puts his husband back to bed. 

Once tucked away,

Thắng walks back to the living room, sits in front of the TV, and unmutes the news. In only a few minutes he begins to cry. Hugh was right, it wasn’t fair, and

Thắng would go insane if he lost him. All they could do was acknowledge their luck and keep moving forward.

Thắng

brushes the tears off his cheeks and reaches for his laptop. Moving forward and helping others will make the healing process go faster.

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The text is 100% fictional. I felt like writing something in response to the attacks on Paris last week. Source of the photo is listed above.

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fuckyeahdudeskissing:

Fuck Yeah Dudes Kissing. A place to see men kiss on Tumblr. Submit a kiss.

“We’re going to have a problem,” Evan murmured.
“I’m not seeing a problem. Clarify for me?” Joseph replied, his focus distant.
“Well, I’m not sure… mmn. How were gonna be able to make it through the wedding ceremony if I can’t stop kissing you.”
“You can’t?” Joseph asked, smiling.
“Nah. I mean, look at us. We can barely make it through the photographs.”
Joseph chuckles with Evan. “Well.” Mmnn. “What’s the problem again? I like kissing you.”
Evan nuzzled his lover. “Shit, I can’t remember…” he smiled. “Can I kiss you again?”
“Sure,” Joseph smiled. “It’ll make for cute pictures.”

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Text is fictional.

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“What?” James asks, letting his hand hover over his rolls. I’m sure he’s thinking I’m mentally critiquing something about the way he’s holding chopsticks or eating his maki. When we go out for Japanese food, he always tries to impress me with his ease in adapting my culture and asks a lot of questions to get it right. But now, it’s not that.
I duck my face to hide my smile. “Nothing, nothing. I just…I like the view a lot. It seems stupid to say it loud but, I just realized that I could sit across from you like this for the rest of my life and be happy with it.  Only in the future, you’ll be wearing a button-up shirt, and then a polo, or maybe a cardigan, and …I don’t know. You’re still wearing a shirt from college.It just …feels like a beginning a guess.”
I busy myself with my miso, my face feeling hot.
James sets his chopsticks down and seems at loss for words.
“Seems stupid right?” I mutter, poking the tofu in the bowl.
“No no…it’s just-” James takes a sip of his water. “I was wondering if you’re psychic or something because I was thinking the same thing.”
My eyes widen. “Eh?”
“I mean, about sitting here with you. Well, not exactly. I was uh, trying to picture you in like traditional Japanese clothing…I don’t think you’d look good in a cardigan really.”

I laugh, freeing myself from discomfort. Now I can’t stop smiling. The words slip out of my mouth before I’m even aware I’ve thought them: “I love you, James.”
James puts his hand on the table on the rainbow scarf from today’s Pride, and I put my hand over this.
“I love you too,” James replies, trying out the words for the first time.

I feel like my heart’s going to explode. I suddenly want to kiss him very badly. I lean forward and James understands what I want. He lifts himself off the seat slightly and meets me halfway across the table. The kiss is gentle, sweet and warm, and then we sit back in our chairs and continue eating like nothing’s happened. Only now, we can’t stop grinning like idiots.

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Text is fictional. This is Derek Binsack and this post isn’t an attempt to personify him or assume his sexuality (although I’m pretty sure he’s gay).

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“Hey.”
I glance up at Mark. “Oh hey handsome, what’s up?” I put my book down and we share a kiss.
“Bookmark your place, we gotta go.”
I slip a receipt into the spot where I stopped and furrow my brow. “Go where…?”
Mark’s grinning so hard that all his teeth are on display. “The courthouse.”
I blink. “….Babe, I don’t understand – why?”
He takes my hand and places something cool in it. When I open it, I see it’s a ring. I gasp.
“Travis County is allowing gay couples to get married today. And…and I know you told me before, how important it was to you to get married, but you never liked the showy ways people propose to each-other. So I’m asking you.. Ramos T. Vargas-” Mark comes around to the front of the sofa and gets on one knee -”if you’ll come to the courthouse and marry me today, on this landmark day. I can’t imagine – no, because there isn’t anyone else in this whole world I want to be married to more than you. You are my everything.”
“Oh my god baby. Oh my god.” I stare at the ring which is quickly going blurry. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. By dinner tonight, we could Mr. and Mr. Hernandez.”
I feel a ragged shudder leave my lungs. “Oh my god baby. Look at this band… it’s so beautiful…” I squeak and dissolve into tears. “Yes yes yes yes yes. I’ll marry you. Let’s go do it! Let’s go get married.”

“Jesus christo, thank you Ramos. Thank you” Mark is biting his lip hard to keep his emotions in check as he slides the ring onto my trembling fingers. We share a deep kiss flavored with the tears running down my face.
“Oh my god,” Mark sniffles. “I’m so happy you said yes.” He picks up the tissue box and we share it.
I chuckle and kiss him again. “This is exactly how I wanted you to ask me too. Love makes you do crazy, spur of the moment things.”
we kiss again. ”Cause I know you, like no one else does. Come on, let’s go pick out something nice to wear, real quick. The line’s gonna be long at the courthouse. I want to make sure we get in.”
“Should we call our parents?” I ask, lovingly inspecting the band.
Mark thinks. “Let’s wait until we get the certificate. Then we ask Janie to take some nice photos in the park. We can send them those.”
“Sounds great.” I can’t stop grinning now either. Today went from bland to bliss in less than five minutes. It was a good day to be gay in Texas. “Race you upstairs!”

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Text is fictional. YAY gay marriage being legal in the US now!!

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“So uh, RJ, since my brother’s going abroad this summer, he’s letting me use his car until he gets back. Listen, I know we’re only 18, but you wanna road trip to Vermont and get married before we go off to college?”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. We’ll buy the rings on the way.”
“Then, yes! A million times, yes!”

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Text is fictional. Fixed the spacing issues.

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Lachlan was examining an old book of costume designs for details to borrow for illustrations when he heard a knock at the door. He was both relieved and annoyed by the sound. He needed a distraction, but he bothered that inspiration wasn’t coming to him. The illustrations were due in two days and he hadn’t done the linework – not to mention the coloring! Ugh, it was going to be overtime for sure. The other drawings
for the Richman campaign came to him instantly; he’d propped them up to
remind himself he didn’t suck at his job.

Lachlan sighed and closed the book. “Yes?” He glanced up at his secretary, a smiley, plump blonde woman.
“Um,”
she said, pointing a pencil toward the front of the office, “Your
husband is here. He’s bouncing off the walls, demanding he has to see
you ASAP.”
“Is something wrong?” Lachlan asked, already striding to the door.
“No, quite the opposite, I think.”

Their head illustrator was already running past her to the waiting area.
“Julian?” he called.
Julian
heard Lachlan’s voice and jogged toward him. He was grinning so hard his
cheeks hurt, all his teeth on display. “Come here, I gotta tell you something.” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed a very confused Lachlan by the sleeve and dragged him back into his office and
shut the door tight.
“Julian what’s going on?”
“Lach they picked us!” He leapt into his husband’s arms.
“Ooof!” Lachlan exhaled in surprise as he found his arms full of a petit brunet.
“They picked us!” Julian crowed.
“Who picked what?” Lachlan insisted.
Julian
kissed him hard. Lachlan did not dislike that, but was a tad embarrassed to
be receiving that in front of an open window. “My goodne-“
“The
adoption agency called. Couple 17, the teenagers we met two weeks ago? They liked our profile, the book we
sent them, the photos… It’s really happening Lachlan. They’ve picked us to adopt their daughter
when she’s born.”
“…What?” Lachlan breathed, shocked.
Julian smiled. “We’re going to be parents.”
All
the air left Lachlan’s throat. He worked his jaw, but nothing came out.
Tears sprung to his eyes. Julian wiped them away with his sleeve. “Us.
Parents. It’s really happening.”
“Oh my god,” Lachlan sputtered. He let
Julian down so he could hug him properly in a bone-crushing grasp.
“You’re 100% serious? They’ve picked us? Why?”
Julian giggled,
overexcited. “Yes. Our adoption counselor didn’t want to spill all over
the phone, but she said for both teenagers, there’s lot of
religious mania in the families. Huge homophobes, too. The teens said they wanted their kid to
have a “modern life” as they put it.”
“…Are you saying being a gay couple ended up working for us? After all that rejection?”
"That’s what I’m saying.”

Lachlan stared at Julian, trying to digest this. He let out a whoop and punched
the air. They made so much noise that Cathy knocked on the door.

“Um, is everything ok there in Lach?”
He went to the door to reassure their receptionist. “No it’s great! It’s fucking great! I’m going to be a dad!!”

When Lachlan’s boss found out about his and Julian’s adoption success, he took everyone in the small company out for lunch and drinks. People kept buying Lachlan and Julian drinks and the couple got a bit too drunk. Lachlan was given the rest of the day off, and Julian escorted him home.

They stumbled in through the door to their house, then made love on the sofa. As he was lying there, out of breath, delirious with happiness and cuddling a napping Julian, Lachlan suddenly had the inspiration for the drawings he was stuck on at work. He was feverishly sketching when Julian came to fetch him for dinner. After a nice meal, he went right back to his office to put down the basics for the colors. When he was done with the preliminary work, Lachlan didn’t even take a break before moving on to the next drawing project: designing the nursery.

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Text is fictional.

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obedienceisgolden:

I try to be Daddy’s sexy little wife as much as I can. Making him happy and horny is what I live for.

I hear his soft footfalls as he enters the kitchen. “Hello Jackson,” I say, busy prepping supper.
“God, I could listen to you say my name forever,” he admits. “I love your accent.”
“Jack-son?” I repeat.
“Yeah,” he exhales, like that “You’re cooking nude again. In that pristine white apron…” Jackson presses himself up behind me and his palm slides over my ass. “My Russian beauty.”

He’s necking me now, so I lean back against him and offer my lips. He dips his head and our mouths lock. It’s sweet, tender kisses that make my knees weak. For a moment I forget supper and just hope he wants to take it to the bedroom. I reach back and grab his thigh. I feel his package bum against me.
“Horny?” I purr.
“I don’t even have a word for it. I just am totally obsessed with you. Your thick body, those muscles in your arms. Your butt is – god, I just love your butt. I love your python thighs, your uncut cock, and your big low set of balls…” he runs his hands over me, caressing me as if exploring me for the first time. The hand drifts under my apron and cups me between the legs. I inhale sharply.
“You know what I think it is?”
“Hm?” I ask, distracted, as I stir the pot.
“I think it’s me thinking about what life be like if I hadn’t met you.”
“You?!” I exclaim. “What about me? I’d still be in that tiny little town in Russia, drinking myself to death like my papa did.”
“But you aren’t there,” Jackson says, reassuring me. “You’re here. In Canada. Safe, with me, in my home. I just …jesus, Oskar, I just never imagined I’d be this happy. I sometimes wonder if it’s all a dream.”
“Isn’t that what you imagined when you put up the ad?”
“I was scared to dream I’d be this happy. Honestly, I imagined I’d be taken advantage of for sex and money and abandoned once my new partner got here.”
“But you got me.”
“I almost didn’t,” he corrects, still touching me. It’s making me really hot and bothered. I almost wish I wasn’t so deep into dinner or I would just throw himself at him.
“The agency matched you with that guy, Carlos. He was such a creep. He just wanted a sex toy.”
“Honey, I know, I was there,” I chuckle, not really wanting to think about that right now. Jackson was lost in his thoughts though.
“I was wait listed for you, on this off-chance…I just knew, you were the one. When I got the news he hurt you, oh my god, I almost went to his house and beat the shit out of him!” Jackson growls in my ear, his fingers digging a little deeper into me.
“Honey,” I plead again. “Please…that wasn’t a good time for me. Let’s not talk about Carlos. Put your hand on my cock again.”
“Mmm,” Jackson said, perking up. He wormed his way around to my front again and stroked me under the apron. I sigh. “Did I mention I love that you’re uncut?”
I blush as he tugs on my foreskin. “No.”
“Well I do. Dammit Oskar…I can still remember exactly how I felt, the moment you stepped off the plane at the airport. We had only met during the mixer in Russia the agency set up, but I recognized you immediately.”
I’m quiet for a moment. I move to drain the raviolis in the sink and Jackson trails me, still petting me. It is getting immensely difficult to think. My head is clouded with hormones and lust. I want my man to wrap me in his arms, kissing away any thoughts of the violence I experienced with Carlos. Sometimes I think about damn lucky I am, and I feel nearly sick with relief. The world rarely works out so perfectly. We were two men, seeking love, one looking for escape, the other looking for a taste of the years his diplomatic father stationed them in Moscow. The first time I made Jackson blinchiki – or as they call them here, blintzes – he actually cried.

“Honey?” I moan, my cock now achingly hard. The ravioli are cooling in the strainer.
“Yeah?” he says, distracted.
I say to him, exasperated, “Can we please go have a fuck before dinner? I am so fucking horny!”
Jackson laughs.
I feel a bit wounded. “Did I say something wrong? Is it my English? Did I not say it right?”
“No, I’m sorry love, I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing with bliss. Just when I think my life is more perfect, you say the best damn things and remind me that I still have many more amazing years with you.”
“Then let’s get living them,” I insist. I turn around and pull Jackson against me. I push my crotch against his hip. Jackson grabs my ass hard until I shout, then he reaches back and unties my apron. I pull it over my head and toss it on the counter. Our lips meet and collide, desperately drawn here and to. I flick my tongue at him, and it makes Jackson ravenous. Before I know it, he’s reaching for the olive oil and I got my legs around his waist. He pushes me up onto the counter, hisses at me to “hold on”. I grab onto the cabinet. My dick is throbbing and it’s starting to ache.
“Jackson hurry!” I whimper.
He fumbles with the olive oil. One hand is still slippery when he grabs my thighs and pushes into me. I bellow out a moan as he fills me in one push. I stroke myself while he devours my mouth again. Jackson notices me pleasuring myself and pulls away a little to watch. “Yeah, that’s it Oskar, good boy” He snaps his hips like a whip, thrusting his fat cock up inside of me. I push my thighs against him. “Yes! Yes!” I cry, momentarily lost in the satisfaction of getting what I need.

Jackson is slipping on the olive oil on the floor, so he leans against me and uses his hips to fuck me. I arch my back, ignoring the counter digging into my butt.
“More! Harder!” I love these English sex words he taught me. I feel naughty when I use them. Luckily, I use the right ones and Jackson ruts until his chest is heaving with effort. Suddenly, his glans hits my prostate in just the right way and we explode together. I scream and Jackson digs his teeth into my shoulder. I am jerking myself furiously. Cum splatters up on my stomach and coats where we’re joined. I groan as I feel Jackson’s load flood in me.

Our foreheads touch as he catch our breath.
“I needed that,” I say, matter of factly.
“That was a great idea,” Jackson agrees, nibbling my jaw. Our tongues duel for a moment before he slides out. I whimper at the emptiness behind. “Christ look at this mess,” he chuckles, setting me down. “Cum and oil everywhere.”
I grin, flustered and happy. “But that is a good problem to have. You need to change your pants too.”
“What?” Jackson glances down and sees our cum has soaked the front of his jeans. “Oh damn.”
“Why don’t we eat dinner naked in the bathtub?” I offer.
“Dinner, in the bathtub?”
“Well, we won’t have to worry about getting tomato sauce on our clothes.”
“Such a smart husband,” he coos. He kisses me again. I wish he would stop that, because I want more when he does. I had a feeling we weren’t going to be getting any cleaner in that bath, and turns out, I was right. We made an even bigger mess too.

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Text is fictional. Tommy Defendi and Alex Adams. This is from Man Royale. Couldn’t find the video on their website, but it’s called Cookin’ By The Book. Here’s stills. Here’s the video bootlegged and uploaded.

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This is the sequel to this.

_______________________________

Ethan and I sat in a pile of wrapping paper and small boxes, sipping hot cocoa with vanilla vodka in it. He was dangling a ribbon for Mrs. Fluffington to swat at. We had spent the morning playing in the snow and going sledding on a golf course hill by the house, then came home to a nice lunch and gifts. Sweaters. Books. Sex toys. Sarcastic post-it notes. A shaving kit for Ethan. Hockey stuff for me. The climax of Christmas was over…or so Ethan thought.

“Ethan?” I began.
“Hm?”
“This Christmas has been magical. I mean, I’m sitting here, by the fire, with medicated hot chocolate, with no place to go and no one making demands on me at work. It’s snowing beautifully outside, and we’re all warm and toasty in here. It’s cliche, but it’s magical, and every Christmas I spent with you, I find this intense happiness that I never knew possible. More than anything, I feel just so incredibly happy with you, and am just far too pleased with the idea that I get to spend a whole ‘nother year with you.”

Ethan smiled at me. “Honey that is so sweet of you to say.” He leaned over and we shared a chaste kiss. I could see the suspicion in Ethan’s eyes. He was no doubt wondering if this was in fact The Time, or if he was reading into things too much. “Jesus christ, I can’t even begin to express how I feel about you..” He worked his jaw, trying to make words come out, but I put a finger over his soft lips so he’d hush.

“Now, I know being with me over the years has been a strange journey for you. We started off as friends. You were dating a girl. Then, you came out to me as bisexual, and then you confessed you had a crush on me-”
Ethan groaned and blushed, much to my delight.
“Which was one of these most wonderful things that has ever happened to me, as I was going insane with my unrequited feelings for you.”
“…You were?”
“Absolutely,” I admit. “I didn’t want to be ‘that creepy gay guy’ but, even then, I knew you were special. I loved your scruffy look. I thought you were so handsome. I was selfish, just looking at the surface. You taught me what it really means to be *in* a relationship, and I never wanted to work so hard for love in my life. You are so ambitious, so forward thinking, that I was – am – constantly amazed by all your kinetic energy. Being with you has made me like… jolt free, and move with intent, to improve and better myself, and grow up.  I wanted -” at this point, my voice cracked -“ I wanted so very much to be worthy of your love, and your approval, to be someone you didn’t consider below you. I want to live in a house with you, and share your bed, and listen to you mutter in your sleep and put jelly on your toast. I love you, and I hope, I really, really hope, that you love me too. So, Ethan Richard Norwich, will you marry me, and let me have you forever?”

I presented a small box from the pocket of my bathrobe and opened it with two trembling, hands.

At this point, I must have entirely mesmerized Ethan because his pupils were dilated and his lids were wide open. It should have been entirely obvious that I was proposing minutes ago, but when he saw the ring Ethan made this high pitched noise, the end of which was smothered by his hands covering his mouth. Mrs. Fluffington fled for the nearest box. Ethan’s palms over his chin were the only things keeping his jaw from falling off his face.
“Holy shit is this really happening…?” he asked, hesitating.
“Yes, it is,” I replied, swallowing hard.
Yes!” he squeaked, a loud voice coming out of a tight throat. “Yes oh my god yes! Yes yes!” He threw his arms around me and squeezed me so hard, I couldn’t breathe. He then peppered me with his kisses.
“Oh my god! Did I just get engaged?” he said, his eyes overflowing with tears.
I was laughing with bliss and happiness, high off adrenaline as the nervousness faded away.
“Yes, it’s happening. I’d been planning this for months.” I showed him the ring.
“Shit, it’s beautiful. And yet, masculine. Shit.” He was openly crying now.
I took it out of the box and slid it into his ring finger. Ethan exhaled audibly. ‘Oh god it fits perfectly. Look at it, it’s just…shit, Joel.” He wiped tears away with this shirt. We embraced and rocked and cried together. The snow continued to fall outside. I piped up. “You know when you came back in from cleaning the gutters and found your dad’s ring gone? I lied. I had taken it to measure for this.”
“What…? Ah you crafty bastard! How did I – how did I not see it? You’ve been planning this for months! You told me we had to put it off!”
I grinned. “That is true. I wanted you to be surprised.” I examined his trembling hand, sniffling too. “God it looks perfect.”
“I’m engaged,” Ethan announced, his eyes red, his voice light with disbelief. “I’m going to get married. Holy shit. This is the best Christmas ever.” He gazed up at me. “I love you so much, Joel. Don’t ever think you’re not worthy of me. I spent so many years worried that you get frustrated or impatient with me and leave. So sure you would assume I’d find a woman and eventually leave. Coming out as bisexual was the hardest thing I ever did because I risked your friendship. Now I’m marrying my best friend, and I think I might be dreaming.”

The tears, the hugging, and the kissing continued until we needed tissues. Ethan’s disbelief melted into excitement, and he fetched his laptop so we could Skype his mother in Florida.
When she saw the ring, she made the exact same noise as her son, and punctuated it with a: “Well it’s about fucking time!”
I left them alone for a moment so they could talk about how much Ethan’s father would have loved to see this moment.

After we called our respective families, I took Ethan out for a walk in the snow which had blanketed the neighborhood. I looked behind us and saw our footprints recede into the distance, and I realized that we had always been sharing the same path. We would be officially starting a new life as one. I squeezed Ethan’s hand.
“I will always love you.”

_________
Text is fictional. The source and maker of the ring is here.