Requited Ch. 11

*

With all that in mind, I'm feeling more than a little nervous today. It's a big day. Today, Andy and I are going to the courthouse. It's official. We're doing it. We're getting married. We're finally doing it. So much is changing in our lives and the time just feels right. It feels right for both of us. It's big news, but it's not the biggest news. The biggest news is that after trying for a while, Andy and I are going to be parents. Our surrogate is six months pregnant. It's real. It's finally happening. We have a baby on the way, with help from Joss. We are both so excited. We've been getting the loft ready and doing our best to hold back the unstoppable force that is Laura Montgomery, on the cusp of achieving her dream of becoming a grandmother. She's beside herself. My mom is too, but in a more subdued way. As much as we both moan about it, we secretly love it.

A few weeks ago, we were talking about the baby. Andy was suggesting names, even though we already have a favourite picked out.

"I think we've got the first name nailed down," I said, "we should probably talk about the last name."

He looked up and smiled, "I've been thinking about it, actually."

"What were you thinking? Montgomery Baxter or Baxter Montgomery?"

"Hmm, I think Montgomery-Baxter has a nice ring to it." He said thoughtfully, "Hyphenated. I think it should be hyphenated."

"Do you now?" I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Yeah, I think so." He hesitated for a moment, looking down and then directly at me. "I've also been thinking, it might be nice for all three of us to have the same name."

*

And, that's how we got here. Right here. Right now. Right up to the present. Today is the day. We're getting ready. At least, Andy is ready. I'm getting ready too, but I'm getting ready for something other than a wedding.

"What the hell?" He says, as I stroll out of the bathroom completely nude.

He's fully dressed. He looks unreal. His suit is dark, dark blue and he looks way more chiselled and sexier than anyone who's planning on leaving the house, ever should.

"West!" He says, "What are you thinking? We have to leave here at two."

"Uh uh," I say, shaking my head, "we only have to leave at three."

"West, for God's sake, you said we had to leave here at two, at the latest."

"Did I?" I tease, "I might have, but I definitely, definitely meant three."

"Are you kidding?"

"Nope, I just wanted to get you into that suit." I reach forward and stroke him through his trousers, "I just wanted to take a moment, before we do this, to remember who we are. To make sure you know, I'm just as horny for you, as I've ever been. Nothing's going to change that."

"Holy shit, West," he says, laughing and shaking his head, as I toss him the lube, "what am I going to do with you?"

"Oh, you know exactly what to do with me." I say, with a little shake of my ass.

He's still shaking his head, but he's smiling. His eyes have darkened and his brow is low. His mouth is curled up and his teeth are exposed. He's smiling like sex. Just like sex. He's tugging at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. I don't move, I just stand there and watch as he undresses.

God, he knows how to handle himself.

He moves slowly. Deliberately. He loses his tie, then his jacket and shirt. My breath catches harder, with each item of clothing he removes. After all this time, the sight of him naked, still twists me inside. I step towards him, reaching out, but he stops me with his eyes. He moves behind me and nudges me to the window.

Oooh.

I know what he wants. I know how he wants it.

I love it like this.

I stand directly in front of the window and lean forward as I place my palms flat on the glass. I look down, out of the window. I see the roofs of cars tearing past and the distorted sight of people viewed from above. I know, from the many times I've stood down where they are and looked up at our loft, that they probably can't see me. The height and the glare on the glass sees to that.

They can't see me.

They probably can't.

But then again...maybe they can.

The thought of that, twists me harder. Harder and stronger. He runs his hand up my thigh, a gentle reminder for me to open my legs. As I do it, I arch my back slightly. I show him what I want. I show him what I have for him. I hear a soft intake of breath.

He reaches between my legs and tugs softly at the toy that's lodged in my ass. The slight movement sends pleasure through me. He puts his other hand on my hip, holding me firmly. Holding me hard. I'm already hard. I've been hard for a while. I was hard in the shower. I was hard from the thought of him. I was hard from the sight of him. I'm really hard now. Really, really hard. I'm so hard, it's difficult to stand still. My hips feel weighted and stiff. I rock them back and forth slightly, without really meaning to.

"Mmm," he says, under his breath, "always so full of good ideas."

He tugs at the toy again and this time, I push out a little, grunting softly as he pulls it free. He puts his arms around me, pulling me close, breathing in deeply as he nuzzles his face into my hair.

"Oh, Jesus," he murmurs, "I never stood a chance when it came to you, West. No chance at all." I lean back towards him, rubbing myself against him. He's hard, too. He's just as hard as I am. He leans in and kisses the side of my neck. He kisses me softly. Soft kisses that send tremors all the way down my legs. "There's not a single thing in the world, I could have done, that would have stopped me from falling for you. Not one single thing."

"Ditto." I groan, as he slides into me.

*

By the time we're done with each other, we're a confusion of limbs on the floor. His chest is glistening with my semen, and his is slick and warm between my cheeks. We lie together, laughing and panting, waiting for our heart rates to return to normal. Then, we jump up and shower quickly.

He's dressed by the time I emerge from the dressing room -- fully clothed this time. He's pinned a fresh orchid to his lapel and has picked one for me, too. I observe him closely, as he carefully pins it onto my jacket. His eyes are warm and soft. It's been so long since they were slanted with sadness, most of the time, I can't even remember what he looked like when he had sad eyes. Now, his default position is light and carefree, ready to laugh, so much so, that if you look closely at his eyes now, you'd see the finest of lines fanning out from the corners. I do look closely, so I don't miss it. When I look in the mirror, I see the same story written all over my face.

I close my eyes and sigh. As I stand there, I'm filled with an awesome, otherworldly certainty.

I'm right where I'm meant to be.

I remember myself as an uncertain, desperate young man. A man who stood trembling, facing a void. A man with two paths. Known and unknown. As I stand here now, I look at Andy and I know, this is my place. All roads lead here. There's not a path in the world I could have taken that would ever have led me anywhere but here, to him, to this precise moment.

His eyes track up my chest and my neck, once he's happy with the position of the orchid on my lapel. Our eyes meet and he smiles at me. It's his soft smile. The one he smiles with his whole face.

"Oh God," I say softly, "you're so beautiful, Andy."

His eyes light up and his smile grows a little wider. He grazes his lip with his teeth and then raises his chin at me ever so slightly, "You're one to talk."

*

My ass is still twitching a little, as we make our way out of the courthouse. We did it! We're married. We're legally married. We're the Montgomery-Baxter's. It was perfect. Quick and to the point. Soulful and silly. Just him and me, the way we were always meant to be.

As I push the door open, I get hit by a flurry of nerves.

Jesus, I hope I haven't fucked up.

I hope he likes it.

Andy wanted it small. He wanted it quiet. As far as he knows, none of our friends or family have any idea that we're getting married today. And, they didn't. They didn't know until two days ago when I cracked and called around, inviting our favourite people to join us. I was very selective about who I invited. I know Andy doesn't love crowds, but he's like me, he really, really loves the people closest to us.

I'm almost a hundred percent sure that he'll love it. Almost. I know him well. I know him better than anyone. I know he loves romantic gestures and being surprised. And if this doesn't surprise him, nothing ever will.

As I swing the door open, the bulb of a flash pops several times over.

"Holy shit!" He says, after a stunned pause, "Is that Sarah with the camera?"

I turn to him and say, "Brace yourself, Andy."

As we walk out, down the stairs of the courthouse, we're met by my mom and my aunt and uncle. Andy's mom and dad are there too, and so is Joss. Mark and his wife Nel are standing with Paul and Daniel. Though I'm his boss now, over the years Daniel has become a great friend. Needless-to-say, Tyler and Guy are there, too. They're there in full-force.

"I did my best, West," Sarah calls out to me, shrugging helplessly, "I managed to stop them at white doves, but I'm not a miracle worker."

I look at Tyler and feel a quick sense of horror. He looks terribly pleased with himself. Terribly. So, does Guy.

Oh Jesus.

I know instantly that my plan for a low-key celebration has just taken a very big turn. At that precise moment, they start pelting us with rose petals and I kid you not, a string quartet starts playing Con te partir

A string quartet?

A fucking string quartet!?

"Holy shit," I say, wiping my forehead, "I'm so sorry, Andy. It was supposed to be simple and restrained. It was just supposed to be the people. It wasn't supposed to get out of hand."

I look up at him to see how he's taking the crazy turn of events and I'm weak with relief when I see his face. His eyes are misted over. Not just misted, they're wet. His mouth is cracked open in the biggest smile I've ever seen. His chest is heaving in a way that I know means he's either about to really, really laugh, or to cry.

"It's perfect," he sobs, "it's perfect."

I feel the same. My heart is pounding so hard I'm dizzy from exhilaration. The passionate strains of the music are going right through me. I choke up too, and pull him towards me as the song reaches its crescendo. I lean in and kiss him. I kiss him like he's mine. I kiss him like he's mine because he is. He's always been mine. He kisses me back the same way. As soon as we pull away, we're met by the hands and cheeks and smiling faces of the people we love most. They pull us in. They envelop us. They surround us and hold us.

I'm hit by a wave of euphoria that's so strong, there's only one single, solitary reason I'm not singing at the top of my lungs - I don't speak a word of Italian.

*

Later, after a wonderful dinner, which included nary a speech nor a toast, Andy and I are back in the loft. We're in bed. He has his leg thrown over mine and his hand on my chest. We're tired and spent and intensely content.

"I can't believe Tyler," I say, "I mean, I should have known, but still, I almost had a heart-attack when the music started playing."

Andy smiles against my chest, "I love that song. Do you remember years ago, at college, when we had that Italian night in third or fourth year?"

"I remember everything."

"Right," he smiles, "well, after you left that night, I was feeling low. God, I was hurting. Pining. Tyler and Sarah were giving me a pep talk. They were both telling me I had to move on. They said it was time. They said I was hurting myself. Tyler put that song on. He played the English version, which includes the line, "Time to say good-bye." I think he was trying to be poetic, or something."

He scoffs softly. I run my fingers gently up his arm as he continues, "I sat there, listening to the song. The words meant nothing to me. I couldn't feel them. All I could feel was the music. I could feel it everywhere. When the music stopped playing, I looked at Sarah and Ty, and said, "The only thing that song does, is make me feel like nothing's impossible. Nothing."

I tighten my grip of him. I crush him to me. I hold him so tightly, I squeeze a little sigh out of him.

"Later, I listened to the song again. I listened to it in Italian. It's not really a song about saying good-bye, it's a song about loving someone so much that without them, there are no words and no sun and no light. Con te partiro doesn't mean, 'Good-bye,' it means, 'I'll leave with you.' It's a song about a love that doesn't have an ending."

"Well," I say quietly, "I guess I'm going to have to send Tyler and Guy a fruit basket tomorrow, huh?" He nods and smiles. "I'll tell you what else I'm going to do, Andy. I'm going to learn all the words to that song, I'm going to learn them in Italian. Just you wait. I'm going to serenade you in a way you can only imagine."

"It's a very challenging song to sing, West. It's not for beginners." He's trying to keep a straight face.

"I know that. I know, and I don't care. You mark my words, every year on our anniversary, I'm going to wake you up with that song. Just you wait and see."

"Oh Jesus." He says, as we both start to cackle. We're quiet for a while. We're tired but we're too happy to fall asleep.

"This has to be it," he says, dreamily, "this has to be the best day of our lives, right?"

I'm quiet for a second. I think about Joss and how she's helped us, and I think about the woman who is carrying our son. I think of our baby, growing inside her. I look over at Andy. I look at his beautiful face and I think of all the good things we have to look forward to.

"Nah." I say.

"How do you know?"

"'Cause, tomorrow we're going to wake up and I'm going to call you, Husband."

I take his hand in mine, lacing our fingers together tightly and then I glance up at the painting hanging above our bed. I look at our hands, joined together in the painting and in life, and I know, as incredible as today was, it won't be our best day.

It won't, because a long time ago, we said, "Always."

Always.

*

The End

*

If you've read all my work, I'd love it if you could let me know which story and character is your favourite.

I'm working on a new story, currently titled Broken. It's slow going, so I'm not entirely sure when it will be ready to publish here, but I'll do my best to get it over the line ASAP.