Justin poked at the food on his plate, giving it a worried glance, as if
it might jump off and attack him at any minute. He wondered exactly what it was
on his plate, but was seriously afraid to ask.
JC watched this in silence for a few moments. “Something wrong, Justin?” he
said, taking a big bite of his own dinner.
Justin looked across the table at JC. “No, nothing.” Poke, move. “Josh,
uh, what exactly is this?”
“It’s mahi mahi, Justin,” JC explained in an “I can’t believe you
didn’t know that” voice.
“And mahi mahi is?” Justin asked.
“Fish.”
Justin’s nose wrinkled. “Fish?” He pushed the plate away. “I don’t
like fish.”
JC blinked. “Yes, you do.”
“No,
I don’t.”
“Yes,
you do.”
“No, I don’t,” Justin repeated.
“You had it at Lance’s last week,” JC observed.
Justin laughed. “Those were fish sticks. Not fish. Big difference.”
“Well this isn’t just fish,” JC said, a bit hurt by Justin’s reaction to
his dinner. “It’s dolphin.”
“Dolphin?” Justin was shocked. “Flipper?”
JC rolled his eyes. “No, not flipper,” he explained. “It’s a fish from
Hawaii. I had it there a few years ago.” JC watched as Justin looked at his
plate with trepidation. He sighed and reached out a hand. “You don’t have to
eat it,” he said, pulling the plate away.
Justin looked up at JC’s face and saw the disappointment etched on his
handsome features. He grabbed the plate out of JC’s hands. “No, I’m sure
it’s great!” he exclaimed, taking a big bite and chewing fast. “Delicious,”
he said, forcing himself to swallow.
JC’s eyes brightened. “Really?”
“Really,” Justin said, taking another bite of the fish and swallowing it
almost whole.
Justin figured it wouldn’t taste so bad if he didn’t chew.
JC’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Justin, where’s the
corkscrew?”
Justin leapt off the sofa and joined JC in the kitchen. He observed the older
man standing there, looking through the drawers in the kitchen for the elusive
corkscrew. But Justin merely smiled.
“You don’t need it anymore,” Justin said, leaning against the doorframe.
JC turned at the sound of Justin’s voice. “Excuse me?” he asked.
“I said,” Justin said, walking to the refrigerator and opening the door.
“You don’t need the corkscrew. I bought you a wine that’s easy to open.”
JC peered into the fridge, his eyes widening. Inside was a box…yes, a box of
wine was sitting on the top shelf. JC closed his eyes, and then opened them. No,
it was still there. He stood up and observed Justin across the refrigerator door.
“Justin…” he began
“See?” Justin said, pulling the box out of the fridge and placing it on the
counter. There’s an easy pour spout,” he said, indicated a white piece of
plastic on the top of the box. “Or, you can use the spigot on the bottom and
not even have to pour!” He took the wine glass out to JC’s hand and
demonstrated, filling the glass almost full and handing it back. Justin watched
expectantly as JC took the glass from him.
JC raised the glass to his lips, taking a small sip of the box wine. It was…awful.
Dreadful. Probably the worst wine he’d ever drunk in his entire life. JC
looked over at Justin’s expectant eyes and fought back a shudder. JC wondered
for a moment if Justin was playing a joke on him, but his expression was one of
such pure hopefulness that JC would like his gift. JC took another sip of the
wine before speaking.
“You know, using a corkscrew was a bit of a bother,” JC said. Justin smiled
brightly, putting the box of wine back in the refrigerator and leaving the
kitchen.
JC was grateful that he’d left the room, giving him the opportunity to pour
the offending brew down the drain.
“This is a Rubens,” JC said, pointing at the large picture on the
wall. “He was a Flemish artist.”
The two men were walking along the gallery corridor. For the past two hours, JC
had been teaching Justin the difference between a Rembrandt and an El Greco and
a Rubens. Justin had pretty much lost it ninety minutes ago, but continued to
trudge along behind JC, nodding at the appropriate moments. JC had been after
Justin to accompany him to the museum for months, and he’d finally given in.
JC looked so happy, and Justin loved seeing him that way.
“But these,” JC said, stopping in front of a series of paintings. “These
have to be my very favorite paintings. They’re by Vecellio Tizano, but more
commonly called Titian.
Justin heard the excitement in JC’s voice, and forced himself to pay a bit
more attention to these paintings. What he saw shocked him. They were large
paintings of …Justin blinked.
JC saw the expression on Justin’s face. “What?”
“JC…they’re all, uh, what, uh, I don’t understand these paintings,”
Justin finally blurted.
“They’re allegorical paintings, Justin,” JC said. “That means they’re
telling a story.”
Justin snorted. “I know what allegorical means,” he said. “What I don’t
understand is…why do you like these paintings so much?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” JC pondered.
“They’re…naked…and fat…and… and…” Justin was unable to finish.
“And what?” JC demanded.
“They’re WOMEN!” JC laughed so loud they caught the guards’ attention.
“Shhh…” Justin grabbed JC’s arm. “Jesus, stop laughing so loud!”
“I’m sorry,” JC said, wiping his eyes. “But that’s the funniest thing
I’ve heard in a long time!”
“Why?” Justin looked at the paintings again. “They are women, Josh. So
I’m not sure why you like them so much.”
“They’re not women to me, Just,” JC said, taking his hand. “It’s a
piece of art, that’s all.” He pulled Justin closer. “Look how Titian
pulled the brush stroke just so. It shows how in tuned he was with the human
figure…”
Justin tuned out JC’s words droned on, but reveled in the feel of JC’s hand
in his.
“Dammit, JC!” Justin said as his ball sliced to the left. “You’re
not supposed to make noise when a person is teeing off!”
JC lifted his shirt to wipe his nose. “Well, excuse the hell out of me for
sneezing!” he said.
Justin glared as he bent down and put another ball on the tee and addressed it,
ready to swing.
“HEY!” JC said, stopping Justin before he could hit the ball. “You already
had your tee shot!” JC complained.
“I’m calling a do-over,” Justin said.
“A what?” JC asked.
“A do-over,” Justin explained. “Because you startled me too much, my first
shot went too far left, so I’m calling do-over.”
“There’s no such thing!” JC argued.
“There is now,” Justin countered. He addressed the ball again, and just as
he was getting ready to swing, JC sneezed again.
“I’m sorry!” JC said, wiping his nose again and watching Justin’s second
shot go straight down the fairway.
JC climbed into the cart next to Justin, wondering again what he was doing here.
Golf just wasn’t his thing, and it seemed as if he was developing a wicked
grass allergy. But Chris had backed out at the last minute, and Justin hated to
do anything alone. So JC had given in and accompanied Justin to the club.
But it had been a disaster from the moment they’d arrived. Justin wouldn’t
let him drive the cart, he argued with JC over every club selection, and now the
“do-over” because he sneezed. JC considered his options for the five holes
remaining. He could give up now, hijack the cart and head home where pollen
wasn’t making him miserable, or…He cast a quick glace at Justin, seeing the
annoyance on the younger man’s face. Yes, plan number two, JC thought.
Justin watched in amazement as JC played like a pro for the remaining holes.
JC’s drives were straight and long and his putts amazingly accurate. In fact,
by the time they were on the green at the 18th, the two men were tied. Justin
putted first, missing by a hair a birdie, and tapping in for par. All JC needed
to do was make a short two-foot, and he’d win the game. He approached the
ball, tapped it gently, and watched as it slowly missed the hole.
The two men locked eyes. “I guess we tied,” JC said, flipping his putter to
Justin and snagging the drivers side of the cart.
“Hey, Josh?” Justin called out from the bathroom. JC walked to the
door and observed the younger man as he brushed his teeth. He was dressed in
nothing but boxers, same as JC. His eyes roamed slowly over the flesh presented
in front of him, a familiar tingle starting to flutter in his groin.
“What is it, Justin?” he asked, coming into the bathroom and standing behind
Justin. He lifted a hand and ran his fingers down Justin’s back, lightly
tracing a path down the boy’s spine. Their eyes locked in the mirror.
“Justin?”
Justin straightened from the sink, lifting a hand and running his fingers
through JC’s tangle of curls. Whatever he was going to say escaped him at the
sight of so close to him. “God, you’re beautiful,” Justin said, pulling
him close and capturing JC’s lips with his own.
JC answered the kiss with his own, sucking Justin’s tongue into his mouth,
grabbing the other man’s curls and slowly pulling him down to the bathroom
floor.
“Justin?”
“Hmm?” “What was it you wanted to say, earlier?” The two men were lying
in bed; Justin draped over JC like a second skin, nestled between the older
man’s legs, his head on JC’s chest. JC was running his fingers over
Justin’s arms lightly, making Justin shiver with pleasure.
“Oh, that.” Justin yawned loudly. “Well, you know I love you, right?”
JC’s hand stilled. He hated conversations that started like that.
“Yes, I know you love me, Justin.”
“And you love me, right?”
“Yes, I love you.” JC lifted Justin’s chin and pinned his eyes with his
own. “What’s all this about?” Justin tried to avoid JC’s eyes, but JC
didn’t allow it. “Justin?”
“I don’t ever want you to come and play golf with me again,” he said in a
rush.
“I…you…” JC stammered. “What?”
Justin sat up in bed and looked at JC. “Yeah, you’re a good player and all,
but your heart isn’t into it, and I’m pretty sure you don’t enjoy it, and
that just makes me feel bad, so yeah, please don’t play golf with me again.”
JC just looked at him, and then burst out laughing. “I promise never to go
golfing with you again, if you promise never to come to a museum with me again.”
“How did you…” Justin laughed as well. “Deal,” he agreed. “If you
throw in no more fish dinners, too.”
“And I can throw out the box of wine from hell,” JC added.
They looked at each other for a moment, and then Justin leaned down and kissed
JC soundly. “I guess our best intentions got the better of us and bit us in
the ass, huh?” he mused.
“Is that an offer?” JC teased.
“Damn right,” Justin said, leaning down to kiss his love with all the best
intentions of doing that forever.