words felt heavy though, because he didn’t know if they were the truth or a lie.
Brian let out a very soft sigh as he brushed the back of Fredric’s hand with the gift bag. “I proposed to my wife there, forty-two years ago, just after the new year. She was studying on an exchange program, and we were long distance by letter.”
Fredric felt something inside him soften and ache a little. “Sounds hard.”
“Oh, it was. I thought for sure some man with a fancy accent was going to come sweep her off her feet and make her forget all about me. I was ready to let her go too, if it meant she was happy. But we’d gone out for the night. The city was loud, people were drunk, and there was slush all over the streets. She’d slipped and fallen into a puddle, and she was a mess. I remember looking at her and thinking she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. I didn’t have a ring, but I dropped to my knee anyway and asked her.”
Fredric swallowed thickly. “And she said yes?”
Brian laughed hard, ending on a sigh. “She said no. She told me to do better, so six months later when I picked her up from the airport—I did. We’ve hardly spent a night apart since.”
Fredric curled his hand around the bag and pulled it close to him. His heart was beating fast, his hands feeling a little weak, but Brian’s story settled under his skin. It was what he wanted—it didn’t have to be marriage. He didn’t need a contract to love Ilan for the rest of his life. But he wanted a promise that there was something there worth fighting for.
He wanted fifty more years with Ilan by his side.
He was his first, and he wanted to know that he would be his last. His only. His absolute forever.
Fredric could feel irritation coming off Ilan when he walked through the door that evening. He’d thrown together a brisket and whatever vegetables he had in the crisper that had been slow roasting all day. He knew the timer was close to going off when Ilan flopped on the couch and cooed a little at Bas, but there was still time to greet his lover.
Leaning in the doorway, Fredric listened to them a moment, then moved to his wine rack and grabbed a bottle from the top. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nope,” Ilan said, his voice muffled from what sounded like a hand over his face. “I want to forget that contracts and agreements and insurance companies and physician groups exist.”
Fredric smiled softly and moved back to the kitchen for glasses. He poured, then made his way to the sofa and handed one off to Ilan before finding an open place to sit. Ilan got comfortable, prone across the cushions with his thighs draped across Fredric’s lap, and his hand settled over his calf, kneading it gently. “Happy first night,” he said, and he felt Ilan stiffen.
“Is it happy?”
Fredric frowned at the tension in Ilan’s voice. He’d brought over his chanukiah after Fredric invited him to stay for the weekend, and though he told Fredric he didn’t want to do more than light candles, he seemed willing to spend at least a little bit of the holiday with him. And Fredric didn’t have any specific expectations, but he was hoping for more than the brunt of Ilan’s bad mood.
“We don’t have to…”
“No,” Ilan interrupted with a heavy sigh. He carefully dislodged Fredric’s hand, then sat up and shifted over. “I had a really long, really bad day, and I’m being an asshole. And I smell dinner, which means you were cooking for me, and I definitely don’t deserve that.”
Fredric reached for the table, then set his glass down before taking Ilan’s face between his palms. “Yes, you do.” His cheeks were warm and smooth from a fresh shave, and Fredric dragged a thumb along the corner of his mouth. “You deserve a nice dinner and a warm welcome even when you’re having a bad day. Especially when you’re having a bad day,” he amended.
Ilan groaned, but he closed the space between them and took Fredric’s mouth in a languid, soft kiss. “You are too good. Like…saint-worthy good.”
Fredric chuckled and shook his head, dragging one hand down to curl in the front of Ilan’s shirt. “Believe me, I’m not. And it’s just dinner. Oh, and I got you…” The timer