They were gathered in their neighbors’ kitchen. Nominally, it was a party.
“No,” his fiancé, John-Henry Somerset, responded. “I believe your exact words were ‘It’s pedestrian.’”
“And,” their friend Noah put in, “he said it’s just a way of distracting people from serious concerns like the International Monetary Fund’s leadership blunders from 2010 to 2017.”
Hazard was seriously reconsidering the friend part. “You’re not helping. Look, I know you want a big wedding—”
“I want it on record,” Somers said, “that I don’t want a big wedding.”
“—and I’m fine with a big wedding, but I think dancing would get chaotic.”
“And he said it was the opiate of the masses,” Gray Dulac said. Somers’s partner elbowed into their conversation around the island in Noah and Rebeca’s kitchen. “That’s from Marx, bitches.”
Hazard decided Dulac needed some friendly advice, so he said, “Stay the fuck out of this.”
“Language,” Rebeca said as she walked by, and then a passel of kids shot through the kitchen. “And Emery also said dancing was a frivolous use of calories, and it was particularly unethical in light of all the malnourished people across the world.”
“Rebeca,” Hazard said, unable to control the wounded tone.
She shrugged. “You did say that.”
“My point,” Hazard said, “is that we can do something besides dancing.”
“It’s a wedding,” Somers said.
“He probably can’t dance,” Dulac said.
“He’s Emery Hazard,” Noah said, “of course he can dance.” Then he added, “He’s probably just really bad at it.”
“Emery can dance,” Nico, Hazard’s ex-boyfriend, put in. “He’s a really, really good dancer.”
“Suck up,” Mitchell said. The red-headed kid had been crushing hard on Nico, and now he gave him a playful shove. Nico, who was gorgeous and all arms and legs, pretended to tumble into the refrigerator.
“I’m with Emery,” Wesley said. The pastor nodded and added, “There’s absolutely no reason to have dancing.”
“See?” Hazard said.
“It’s godless and immoral.”
Hazard groaned.
“And,” Wesley said, grinning as he pulled his girlfriend Susan against him, “even though godless and immoral things can be tremendously fun, Emery’s obviously just a bad dancer.”
“I’m a fine dancer,” Hazard said. “It’s all about rhythm and rhythm is all about counting. I’m a great dancer.”
Somers just shook his head.
“And,” Hazard said, “the only reason I’m against dancing is that to be a good dancer, a really good dancer, you have to have an ass. And some people in this room have absolutely no ass. Zero ass.”
Total silence; then, from upstairs, a thunderous crash from the kids.
“Dude,” Dulac whispered.
“Ok, folks,” Somers said, gesturing with a can of Pepsi, “nothing to see here. Move along.”
“Maybe you guys should waltz,” Noah said.
“That,” Rebeca said, “is the whitest thing ever.”
“What’s wrong with a waltz? It’s easy, and like Emery said, you can just count the steps.”
“He could manage a waltz,” Dulac said, frowning over his beer. “Probably.”
“Emery, you should just grind up on him,” Nico said, “you know, like when we’d go to the Pretty Pretty—” Mitchell clapped a hand over Nico’s mouth and both of the younger men giggled as it turned into wrestling.
“Move along,” Somers said, gesturing with the can again. The gathering in the kitchen broke up, with people drifting into Noah and Rebeca’s living room.
“It’s only in comparison,” Rebeca said as she passed Hazard, flicking a gaze at him and then at Somers’s backside. “You just can’t live up to Emery’s . . . statuesque build.”
“A little less commentary, please,” Somers said.
Hazard held himself rigidly on the stool, his thumb flicking up and down the bottle of Guinness.
“They’re teasing you,” Somers whispered in his ear.
“I know.” Flick. Flick.
“Because they love you.”
Hazard’s thumb stopped on the side of the beer. He rolled his eyes.
“And I love you too,” Somers said, kissing his neck. “Although I’m going to make you take back that comment about my flat ass.”
And then Somers pinched Hazard’s butt and headed for the refrigerator. Hazard’s gut tightened the way it still did, even after a few dry months, but Somers just grabbed another Pepsi. When he turned around, something must have been on Hazard’s face because Somers blushed lightly, and then he shrugged and displayed the can like a The Price is Right showgirl. Then he laughed, and the moment broke, and he moved into the living room.
Hazard finished his beer and left the empty in the sink; then he moved to the living room and took up a spot along the wall. Mitchell and Nico were doing some more giggling together on the sofa, heads close together, Nico’s