Milton's Ultimate Hero

by Drew Hunt

  “Of course you’re coming,” his mother said, following him down the hallway. “We’ve already made the reservations.”

  Steve had already told his folks he wouldn’t be spending Christmas with them. Initially, his mother had greeted the news with disbelief. This had soon turned to hostility, and now was in its third phase…denial. Steve had asked JJ’s dads if he could bunk down on the futon in Calvin’s office over the holiday. They’d agreed, once they’d spoken with Steve’s father.

  “Here you go, son.” Mr. Morrison handed the shoes over. “Might not pass inspection with the army, but I think I’ve done a creditable job, if I do say so myself.”

  “Thanks, Dad. You’re a lifesaver.” Steve dropped the shoes on the floor and slid into them. They were pinching; hopefully they’d loosen up during the evening.

  “Make sure you clean up this mess before you come into the parlor,” Mrs. Morrison scanned her eyes around the kitchen with a disapproving expression. It looked fine to Steve.

  Mr. Morrison rolled his eyes at his son. “Have a great evening.”

  Steve smiled. “Plan to.”

  Just then Steve’s cell rang. It was the driver; he was a couple of minutes away.

  “Night, Mom.” Steve kissed her on the cheek as he left the kitchen. “Don’t wait up, I might be late.”

  Though it might have pained her to say it, she said, “Have a good time, and be careful.”

  “I will.” Steve grabbed his overcoat from the hall closet and buttoned it up in the elevator ride down to the lobby.

  * * * *

  Milton had always thought Steve looked great in whatever he wore—his school uniform, the Superman costume—but in a business suit, he was…drool-worthy. The smartly-dressed man standing in Milton’s doorway exuded power, strength, and authority. Milton was surprised at how arousing the image was.

  “Hi.” Milton could have kicked himself for his lame opening.

  Steve smiled one of his dazzling smiles. “Hi, yourself.”

  “Milton, let the poor guy come inside,” his mother said when Milton had continued to stare at his date…not date.

  “Sorry.” Milton opened the door wider and Steve stepped in. “Love the tie.” Steve was such a goofball at times, it was one of the many things Milton lo…liked about him.

  “Thanks, Mom about had a shit fit, uh, sorry, Ms. Graham.”

  “That’s okay,” Milton’s mom smiled. “The tie is certainly…colorful.”

  Milton finally noticed the bouquet of white chrysanthemums Steve was holding in his right hand.

  “They’re for your mom.”

  “For me?” Milton’s mom gushed. “Thank you. I can’t remember the last time a young man bought me flowers. I’ll just go find a vase for them.” She bustled off to the kitchen.

  Milton tried to maintain his smile. He was being sappy. Why would Steve have bought him—another guy—flowers.

  Steve’s left hand came from behind his back, holding a large bouquet of blue and yellow iris mixed with yellow roses. “And these are for you.” His smile grew even wider.

  “Oh.” Milton blushed, unable to find the words to express how amazing and romantic the gesture was. He didn’t have to remember the last time a young man had bought him flowers, it had never happened. “Thank you. They’re wonderful.”

  You’re welcome.”

  “Oh,” Milton’s mom said, coming into the hallway. “I’ll have to find another vase. Goodness.” She disappeared back into the kitchen.

  “Do you have a boutonnière?” Steve asked.

  “Uh, no.” It had slipped Milton’s mind, unused as he was to dressing for dances.

  Back came Steve’s smile. “I asked Maggie, our fashion expert, what color tie you’d be wearing, so I made sure to pick something that would match.” He reached into an inner coat pocket and produced a yellow rose tied with a blue ribbon.

  “Thank you,” Milton said, grateful for Steve—and Maggie’s—thoughtfulness.

  “There, perfect,” Steve said, stepping back once he’d pinned the flower to Milton’s lapel.

  “Now, boys, stand together so I can get a few photographs.” Milton’s mother was brandishing her camera.

  “Mom!” Milton groaned.

  Steve moved to Milton’s left side and took his hand.

  “Smile,” his mom called out.

  Milton did, feeling awkward.

  “We need to get going,” Steve said after the third photograph had been taken.

  “Okay, boys, have a good time. And be safe,” Milton’s mom said, handing Milton his overcoat. “You’ll need this…it’s really cold outside tonight.”

  “Yes, Mom.” Milton kissed her cheek and then whispered, “thanks, for everything”

  “You’re welcome, hon,” she whispered back.

  “Hope I wasn’t too early,” Steve said as they rode down in the elevator.

  “You were right on time,” Milton said, sneaking another look at his…guy. He was so handsome, so masculine, a real man.

  Before any self-doubts or negative thoughts formed about why someone like Steve would want to go to a dance with a nobody like him, the elevator doors opened on the lobby.

  Steve took Milton’s hand and led him across the tiled floor, through the glass door, and out onto the stoop. Milton was surprised by the gesture. He and Steve hadn’t really shown any affection in public before; Milton had assumed Steve wasn’t ready.

  They were descending the steps when Milton noticed a shiny silver-colored limo parked at the curb. “Must be a celebrity visiting.”

  The uniformed driver got out and opened the limo’s back door.

  “You are the celebrity,” Steve said, squeezing Milton’s hand. “Thanks, Jerry,” he nodded to the driver.

  “You’re welcome, sir,” the man said, touching his cap.

  Milton froze in place, his feet rooted to the sidewalk.

  “Milt?” Steve asked, turning to face him.

  “I…” Milton swallowed. This couldn’t be happening. The most he’d ever dreamed about was walking down a street with a guy, holding hands and, although he and Steve hadn’t really done that, this…the flowers, the limo, the driver, it…

  “This is okay, isn’t it?” Steve looked worried.

  Milton found a smile from somewhere. “Oh, yes, yes.”

  Steve returned the smile and Milton climbed into the back of the huge vehicle.

  * * * *

  Steve watched as Milton’s gaze swept the inside of the limo. The guy sat like a statue, Steve guessing he was too afraid to touch anything.

  “Would you like a drink?” Steve asked, gesturing to the mini-fridge. He’d checked it out on the ride over; it had a pretty good selection of water—both still and sparkling—as well as a number of sodas and fruit juices.

  “Huh?”

  “Would you like something to drink before we get to the dance?”

  “Oh, yes, thanks.”

  Steve told Milton what there was.

  “Um, sparkling water is fine.”

  Steve reached into the cabinet and withdrew a couple of crystal glasses. Opening the mini-fridge, he got out the ice and the fizzy water.

  “Wow, a fridge inside a car, it’s just like in the movies,” Milton said quietly.

  “This is the life, huh?” Steve said, looking at Milton over his shoulder.

  Milton smiled and nodded.

  Steve handed Milton his glass. “Sorry it isn’t Champagne or anything.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t know if I’d like Champagne.”

  The mental image of his mother telling him Milton wouldn’t be comfortable with the type of life they led swam into his mind. He shook his head to clear it.

  “It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” He’d managed to sneak half a glass of Champagne at a cousin’s wedding the previous year. It had been okay, but he still didn’t know what all the fuss was about.

  Clinking their glasses together, Steve said, “Here’s to a great evening.�
��

  Milton nodded then took a sip from his water.

  As the limo turned onto West Side Highway, Steve put his free arm around the back of Milton’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Relax, you’re supposed to be having fun.”

  “Sorry.” Milton looked into Steve’s face, a mixture of emotions shining in the big brown eyes. “I’m having a really great time, honestly. It’s just so…overwhelming.”

  “Take a deep breath. All this,” Steve swept his hand around the limo, “is nothing less than you deserve.” He leaned in and stole a quick kiss.

  They settled back and enjoyed the ride, the two of them discussing some of the things they saw as they passed them, the pre-Christmas traffic causing the limo to proceed slowly as they got closer to downtown.

  The holiday shoppers reminded Steve that he still hadn’t found anything for Milton. His first instinct was to shower the guy with expensive gifts, but the more rational side of him knew that would make Milton uncomfortable. Steve decided he’d try to pull Maggie aside at the dance and ask for her advice—the woman was an expert in all things shopping.

  Just as they turned onto 14th Street, Steve told Milton he needed to make a quick call. Pulling out his cell, he scrolled down to JJ’s number.

  It rang a couple of times before being picked up. “We’re a few blocks away, so haul your cowboy ass out onto the street.”

  Beside him, Milton chuckled.

  “I’ll be there,” JJ said.

  “See you in a few.” Steve hung up and pocketed his phone.

  “You came up to my apartment to get me, so how come you’re making JJ wait in the street?”

  Steve smiled. “You’re my boyfriend…JJ isn’t.”

  Milton opened his mouth, but no words came out. It was so cute.

  “I’d like to be your boyfriend, if you’ll have me.” Steve had never used the term before, he’d wanted to, but the timing had never been right.

  Milton blinked rapidly for a few seconds, swallowed a mouthful of water, set his glass down and practically launched himself into Steve’s lap.

  “I guess that’s a ‘yes,’ then.” Steve hugged Milton tight and stole a deep kiss.

  Behind him the door opened. “You two haven’t wasted any time,” JJ said. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

  Milton started to climb off Steve’s lap.

  “You are,” Steve fired back, tightening his grip around Milton’s waist. “But I’ll forgive you.”

  “Gee, thanks.” JJ climbed in, Jerry closed the door and they were soon underway again.

  Steve looked over at his best friend, who was smiling at them. JJ was dressed in a smart black suit, beneath which was a powder-blue shirt with pearl snaps and black bolo tie with turquoise concho.

  “Where’s your hat, cowboy?” Steve asked.

  “Didn’t think it was appropriate for tonight.”

  They were soon at Maggie’s. Steve had intended to have the limo wait at the curb while JJ went up to get her, but she was standing in the lobby of her building when they drew up.

  “Hi, guys,” she said, climbing in and sitting next to JJ. “Cold tonight.” She shivered.

  “You look great,” JJ said before claiming a kiss and snuggling his girl up to him.

  “Thanks, so do you, but where’s your hat?”

  Milton, who was still on Steve’s lap, laughed. “Just what we asked.”

  * * * *

  The Highline Ballroom was off the hook. Empire Prep had rented a large room for their semi-formal and, if Steve’s untrained eye was any judge, most of the student body was there.

  Steve stood off to the side, glass of orange soda in hand, assessing the crowd. It was pretty warm inside the ballroom and so most of the male students, Steve included, had discarded their jackets and ties.

  Steve had had a few dances, JJ, teasing him that the girls had had to do the asking. Steve hadn’t felt right about asking a girl to dance, not with his newly-declared boyfriend sitting next to him.

  One of Steve’s dance partners had been Angela Farrell, the girl his mom had had her sights on. She looked very pretty in her black prom dress. When he’d complimented her on it, Angela had said it was a Diane von Fürstenburg. He’d never heard of the designer, but had nodded sagely. After the song had ended, Angela had wanted to talk further, but Steve had used the excuse that the music was too loud. In truth, he was uncomfortable, feeling he was leading her on.

  Despite the progress he’d made in accepting who he was, Steve hadn’t been able to pluck up the courage to ask Milton to dance with him, not even a fast one. However, if it bothered Milton, he hadn’t shown it. The guy had taken several turns on the dance floor, usually in groups that included JJ and Maggie.

  Whenever Steve wasn’t dancing, he was watching Milton. He told himself he was protecting the guy, it was unlikely anyone would start something here, but Steve wasn’t about to take any chances.

  The DJ, D.J. Mojo, someone Maggie assured Steve was pretty hot in the New York club scene, changed the song to something with a techno beat. Steve raised his glass to take a sip but discovered it was empty. Looking to his right, Steve saw the line at the bar was fairly short, so headed over for a couple of refills.

  On turning around, new drinks in hand, Steve’s eyes immediately began to scan the room for Milton. He found him at their table, sitting next to Angela. From the way their heads were tilted close together they were talking. The pit of Steve’s stomach dropped as he made his way over to them, trying not to spill the drinks in his haste.

  “Got you another!” Steve shouted close to Milton’s ear. To emphasize his words he pointed to the glass.

  Milton smiled and nodded to indicate he’d heard, before going back to his conversation with Angela. Steve sat and sipped at his drink, wishing he knew how to lip read. However, from the nods, smiles, and looks in his direction, the conversation seemed to be going okay.

  Eventually Angela stood, patted Milton on his shoulder, waved at Steve, and departed.

  “You okay?” Steve asked Milton, moving closer.

  Milton took a long pull on his soda. “Yeah, more than I thought I would be.” He nodded and smiled.

  Steve was dying to know what Angela had wanted, but felt Milton would tell him if it was important. After D.J. Mojo had changed the song to something vaguely country and Milton still hadn’t opened up, Steve’s curiosity got the better of him.

  “Angela didn’t upset you or anything?” he leaned in and asked.

  Milton shook his head and smiled. “She was giving me her blessing.”

  “Huh?” Steve must have misheard. “Did you say ‘blessing’?”

  Milton nodded. “She said that you were a really great guy and that I was, too, for getting you.” He blushed.

  Steve’s fear levels increased. He’d known he’d been more open about his friendship with Milton at school, but no one could have guessed they were a couple.

  Milton tapped Steve on the shoulder and leaned closer. “She said it’s the way you’re always looking at me. Protective and possessive.”

  Steve’s eyes widened. Had he done that? Sure, he’d kept a lookout for trouble—JJ had done pretty much the same thing—but certainly no one could have thought JJ and Milton were an item.

  That’s ’cause he’s got Maggie, a voice in his head managed to whisper above Kylie Minogue.

  Milton leaned in again. “Any idea where the bathrooms are?”

  Steve looked around. The huge space was decked out with tinsel and other holiday-type decorations. It was difficult to determine the colors because of the colored, flashing lights and the strobe that swung constantly around. Steve caught sight of a lit sign over a door on the other side of the room. It was too far away to read, but it seemed as likely a place as any to find a restroom.

  “I need to go, too,” Steve said, getting to his feet. He didn’t need the bathroom, but he was feeling extra-protective.

  * * * *

  Later in the evening, the tunes seem
ed to get even faster, or was it that Steve was feeling tired? He’d had several more dances, and after okaying it with Milton, had asked a few girls to dance with him, although for the most part he’d danced with a group. Once that group had involved Milton, but there’d been no touching and little eye contact.

  Steve needed the bathroom again. He checked where Milton was; he was with a group of guys, JJ being one of them. So Steve decided to leave him be and go to the restroom alone.

  After standing in a long line for the urinals, Steve did his thing, flushed and washed and dried his hands. He exited the bathroom and immediately caught Maggie’s eye; she was waiting to use the ladies.

  The music was so loud, Steve figured it was unlikely they’d be overheard, so he asked her if she had any ideas about a suitable Christmas gift for Milton.

  “Your used jockstrap. Make sure it’s unwashed.” She giggled.

  Steve stared at her. Had she managed to get hold of some alcohol?”

  “Seriously, I don’t know,” she shouted in his ear, “but I’ll give it some thought. Though there’s one gift you could give him tonight.”

  Steve raised an eyebrow.

  “You can dance with him.”

  The panicked look on Steve’s face had Maggie shaking her head. She turned him around to face the dance floor. Steve followed where she was pointing. In his ear she said, “If JJ can dance with him, then you can.”

  Even though it was a fast song, JJ and Milton were definitely dancing together, each having their hands on the others hips.

  “No one cares,” Maggie went on. “Just look at how many guys are dancing with each other.”

  Steve turned back to face Maggie.

  “Go on, do the right thing. Be yourself.”

  Steve had made so much progress in being himself the past few weeks; the journey hadn’t been as terrifying as he’d feared. He’d come out to his family and his close circle of friends, and the sky hadn’t fallen in. Okay, his mom had kicked up a fuss, but then she fussed about everything. So why shouldn’t he dance with Milt?

  Steve turned to face the room and felt a slight push on his back. Looking over his shoulder he saw Maggie making a shooing motion. He smiled and gave her a thumbs up.