Cross Island

by Santino Hassell

  “No!” Oli’s mouth tugged up at the side. “Well. Not a whole one.”

  Victor snickered, and I shook my head. I should have known an exchange of gag gifts with this crowd would result in more pornography than actual gags.

  “Shall we?” Oli asked, flashing his pirate smile—the one that promised mischief. “Time to get everyone together before the roaring fireplace.”

  “Cozy,” I said dryly. “Exchanging sex toys by the mantle. How traditional.”

  “For us? It is.” Oli puckered his lips in a smartass kiss and nodded at us to follow him. “Help me heard these cats.”

  With a low groan, I muttered my agreement, and Victor laughed quietly in my ear.

  “You’re in a good mood,” he noted. “Being all helpful and shit.”

  “Yeah, maybe because I got some attention from my man this morning.” I turned my face just enough to see him. “And this afternoon.”

  He bit my lower lip. “If we leave now… We could get it in again.”

  “Tempting, but no. We made a deal remember? The fuck-the-past-we-will-confront-our-issues deal? The one where I stop avoiding my ex, and you stop avoiding Raymond and his friends?”

  Victor made a face. “I guess.”

  It was as much of an agreement as I was going to get, so I squeezed the back of his thigh again and led him out of the kitchen.

  When Oli had said getting everyone to gather in their massive living room was like herding cats, he hadn’t been exaggerating.

  Tonya was coming down the spiral staircase and fixing the buttons on her metallic shirt while Mere trailed behind her, flushed as she fussed with her hair. Michael, David, and Nunzio were all hotly debating something in a corner—likely education-related—while Raymond lounged on the couch with Angel, Val, Luis, Chris, and Aiden, and stared intently at something sports related. And across the room, in front of the fireplace and the Christmas tree, Caleb and Charles were fussily arranging gifts while Stephanie stood over them and gave directions for whatever vision she clearly had in mind. Nearby, at the bar, Jace and Ashton were looking at their phones and giggling over glasses of champagne.

  When I looked at them all, lounging around the enormous space in their vastly different styles, laughing and talking with their different accents and loud opinions, I couldn’t help but smile. There had been a time when watching this beautiful group of people had intimidated me because I’d felt like I could never belong with them—as if I’d exiled myself before I’d had the chance to let them in. But now, with Victor standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me and Oli glancing at me in exasperation, silently pleading for help, I felt like part of the group.

  That said, I still had no idea how to get their damn attention.

  I cleared my throat loudly, shot Oli a shrug of my own, then Victor stepped forward.

  “All right, let’s go,” he said, voice booming over the television and the voices of nearly twenty people. He clapped his hands. “We gotta exchange some gifts, right?”

  Stephanie turned to the rest of the group as if noticing for the first time they were still scattered around the room. “What the hell are you people doing? Come over here!”

  I snickered, endlessly amused that the Quinones siblings had everyone well in hand, and watched them find spots around the massive pile of gifts. I snagged the sofa seat, dragging Victor behind me, and was slightly surprised when Michael sat on the rug nearby. Nunzio followed, ruffling Victor’s hair on his way.

  “I didn’t get to talk to you all night, punk.”

  A flash of surprise showed in Victor’s face before he shrugged it off and sat back on the cushion. “I was tearing up the food. I’m not used to this level of gourmet.”

  “Are you complaining about my cooking?” I asked dryly. “Sorry I don’t come prepared with lobster macaroni and cheese and puff pastries.”

  “He does make a mean honey mustard salmon though,” Michael piped up. He looked surprised he’d spoken, but sat up straighter and raised an eyebrow as if daring me not to respond to a food-related compliment. “I’ve tried to replicate it for years.”

  I looked at him, then Nunzio, and cleared my throat. “Victor refuses to eat salmon so—”

  “Whaat? My man.” Nunzio put a hand to his heart. “You’re missing out on a pretty amazing source of protein.”

  Victor started to reply, but a low deep voice muttered, “I’m sure he has other ways of getting that these days.”

  Raymond shoved Victor’s shoulder as he passed by, then plopped down on the recliner nearby, long legs sprawled open and baseball cap pulled low over his head. He legitimately smelled like marijuana and yet, I could see how everyone in the world had a crush on his longhaired self.

  Victor stared at him, then at me, then muttered something in Spanish that resulted in Raymond releasing a loud laugh. By the Christmas tree, Stephanie was watching and smiling broadly.

  “Are we starting?” David asked, loud voice booming in my ear. He squeezed between Nunzio and Michael before plopping down on Raymond’s lap. “I want whatever that gigantic box is in the corner.”

  “Size queen,” Charles sang from his position by the tree.

  “Um, like you’re not? We’ve all seen Luis on Instagram in compression shorts, sweetie,” Jace said, neatly arranging himself on the floor in front of the tree. He was wearing an enormous cable knit sweater and skintight leather pants with no shoes. His toenails glittered beneath the lights. “We all know he’s showing off, too.”

  “Okay, but is it as big as Chris—”

  “Okay, shut up everyone,” Chris interrupted Aiden, putting a hand over his lover’s mouth. “How do we start? I don’t even know how to play this.”

  “I feel validated,” Victor muttered beside me. “This is called white elephant for a reason.”

  Raymond and Michael both cracked up, and Victor relaxed a little beside me. There had been a thread of tension in his shoulders for the entire night, likely as he dreaded the moment he’d have to even slightly interact with people he’d been avoiding for so long, but now it was fading. I squeezed his knee in an attempt to convey that I felt the same damn way.

  Yes, we’d both vowed to leave the past behind and try to function in this group, but words were easy. Actually putting ourselves out there after so long? It was another story. We’d both exiled ourselves from this group four years ago, around the exact same time, and it was amazing the weight it had put on both our shoulders. It was equally amazing that the simple act of exchanging a few words could feel so monumental. And yet it did.

  “So, basically,” Caleb said, standing and holding a bowl of tickets. Because of course Caleb would have an ornamental bowl for us to grab numbers from. “Everyone takes a number, then everyone gets a turn in order. Number one selects a random gift first, unwraps it, and reveals it to everyone else. Number two has the option of stealing that gift or grabbing another from the pile, and so on until we get to the end, but a gift can only be ‘stolen’ three times before it’s out.”

  “So, what happens to number one?” Raymond demanded. “They just get fucked and never get a chance to steal?”

  “Number one is actually kind of a big deal because they get to see everyone else’s stuff, and then they get a chance to steal,” Charles explained. “I better be number one or this whole shit is going down. I’ll end you bitches.”

  “I love it when you’re feisty, pa,” Luis said, nudging his foot against Charles’ hot pink Christmas sweater. It was fuzzy and said ‘Santa’s favorite hoe’. “You’re more ruthless than I am, so get something good.”

  “We’re going to lose,” Val commented to Ashton. “Neither of us are ruthless at all.”

  “Ugh. I know right?” Ashton made a sad face, and flung his hair dramatically. “I should have just been the videographer.”

  “Wait,” Caleb said, holding up his hands. “This isn’t—we’re not in teams. There’s no winning or losing.”

  He looked so flustered that Oli began cackling unt
il Aiden smacked him in the head. “Let’s do this shit! Hand out them tickets,” he boomed. “I’m ready to get something epically terrible.”

  “Seriously, get on with it,” Tonya grumbled. “I’m hungry.”

  “Stop fucking at random in the middle of parties then,” Stephanie said. A collective scoff around the room caused her to put her hands on her hips. “Shut up. All of you.”

  A laugh welled in my throat but even as I tried to muffle it, my shoulders began to shake. I bit my lip and covered my mouth, half turning away, but Michael caught my eye and grinned. A month ago, it would have annoyed me that he was so invested in me having a good time. Now, well, it still kind of annoyed me but I managed to control my laughter and offer a smile in return.

  The game started with an absurd bang.

  I managed to be number one and, as Charles aimed warning glares at me, I selected the gift David had wanted—an enormous barrel of lubricant that had been purchased by Nunzio. After that, there was various degrees of figuring out whether Angel or Val had bought the see-through boxing shorts or Yankees briefs, Mere opened a package of Booty Pop padded underwear from Charles before trading it for an unopened box that Angel had won. It wound up being a Star Wars pen from Chris that screamed I want them alive in Darth Vader’s voice.

  Next, Jace, Ashton, and Mere spent a solid ten minutes disgustedly bickering over the fact that someone had went far over budget to buy a gag gift consisting of Kylie Jenner makeup brushes (it turned out to have been Charles), before David opened an envelope consisting of Ariana Grande tickets. Jace admitted he’d made the extravagant purchase as a joke because he thought she was terrible, and found himself being collectively schooled by Luis, Charles and David who passionately defended the singer.

  The most hilarious gifts were the make your own dildo kit Aiden had purchased that Victor opened. It set him into snorting laughter that he tried to cover, probably because he was effectively blowing his cover as the solemn cool guy, before trading it for the huge pack of batteries that Stephanie had purchased. She’d gotten them for vibrators. He informed her he’d be using it for video game controllers.

  Another minor crisis occurred when Angel opened a box containing red Timberlands. Victor, Angel, and Ray all cried out that they wanted them and argued until I dryly asked what size they were. Turned out they’d only fit Ray’s size fourteen feet… which was why David had bought them. Ray smugly stole the Timbs as Angel accused them of cheating.

  By the end of it all, I was up again and had a selection of eighteen gifts to choose from. Oli had managed to win back his hot pink machine gun cannon dildo… thing that he loudly proclaimed he’d use on his husband, Tonya had snagged a tentacle vibrator, Ashton was deeply into a self-help book Caleb had purchased, and I had no interest in the Prancercise DVD from Luis, the grapefruit and accompanying grapefruit blowjob manual from Michael, the p90X videos, or the bong shaped candle holder (Raymond’s offering of course). I wound up trading my giant tank of lubricant for a middle finger mug. The trade had been with Jace, and he was thrilled with his new item.

  “You people are a trip,” Luis said, snickering. “Thank God I didn’t invite my mom.”

  “Babe, you should have. You’re like one of three people who talks to their parents in this land of misfit toys,” Charles said, laughing. “Besides, you know you like that p90X shit Tonya brought.”

  “Because Tonya is wise as hell, and my best client yet.”

  Tonya flexed her biceps, and Ashton huffed a bit in the corner. “I want to be the best one,” he complained.

  “You’re the blondest,” Val offered.

  Ashton turned up his nose.

  “So, like, I have a question though,” Raymond said, sitting up and pointing at his brother. “You won a Babies-R-Us gift card and both of you looked at each other and grinned.”

  “Wow, way to call us out.” Michael gave his brother a dead eyed stare. “Maybe—”

  “We’re probably going to adopt this coming year,” Nunzio broke in, grinning so big his eyes crinkled. “We were going to wait until everything is final, but…”

  A collective of happy shouts and excited questions filled the room that Nunzio tried to keep up with and answer. Michael, as usual, was lower key. He sat back, letting his husband do the talking, but a small smile played on his mouth. After a second, he glanced at me. I’d been expecting it, this automatic check-in to see how I was responding to the news, so I responded with a nod. “Congratulations. You’ll be amazing.”

  “Thanks, man.” He jerked a thumb at Nunzio. “He’s going to spoil the shit out of our future child.”

  “I’d honestly expect nothing less,” I said.

  Michael grinned, but then Raymond interrupted by dragging his brother up into a big hug. I took the opportunity to check in with Victor, who looked like he was in a good enough mood, but I had the sense he was starting to check out of the festivities. If there was one thing I’d picked up in the past couple of months, he genuinely was not an extrovert. Even when I tried to lure him out to dinner, he preferred takeout and staying home.

  “Ready?” I asked. “You look zoned out.”

  “We can stay if you want.”

  “Right, but what do you want?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “To go home, fool around, and go to sleep?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Everyone again broke off into smaller groups, looking at each other’s gifts, quizzing Michael and Nunzio, or teasing each other about one thing or another. I went to say goodbye to Oli and Caleb, nodding at others along the way, and noticed Raymond and Stephanie were talking to Victor as he stood with his coat on and his hands gripping either side. Both he and Raymond were regarding each other carefully and exchanging a few words, but they eventually both smiled at Stephanie as she talked rapidly, waving her hands.

  I walked over as they departed, and slid my arm through Victor’s. We headed to the front door. “What was that all about?”

  He zipped his jacket, giving me a bemused look. “Apparently, they’re real gung ho about me going to their UFC nights. Well, Steph is gung-ho. Ray seemed like he didn’t care one way or the other.”

  “What the hell is a UFC night?”

  Victor snorted out a laugh. “Twice a month or so, the gang all goes to Raymond and David’s to cook and watch the fights.”

  “Oh. Well. That’s nice.” We left the penthouse, pulling the door shut behind us. For the first time in a long time, there were no guards waiting outside. “Right?”

  “I mean, yeah, but I’m still not trying to dedicate my Saturday nights to spending time with groups of people. Maybe once in a while?”

  I burst out laughing and pushed the button for the elevator. “Can I just say that I’m pretty impressed that your main concern is the expectation that you go to gatherings and not that you were just talking to someone whose existence caused you to be full of anxiety?”

  Victor shrugged and looked back at the door. “I was just thinking about that, but… Basically, it was never about him. And I know you’d said that to me a while back, but it really hit home tonight that it was more… me equating him with the shit that happened with Shawn, and me equating all of that to me being gay only to find out he’s bi… It messed me up.”

  “And now?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, still sounding thoughtful. “Once I untwisted everything, it just didn’t matter anymore. You know? There was nothing left to be resentful over. I don’t know that I’ll ever get over any of it fully, or that I’ll really feel like I belong because of how I was to all of them back in the day, but… at least we can all be kinda cool.”

  “Hmm.” The elevator arrived as I turned the situation over in my head. “You know, you should consider discussing it with him the way you did Stephanie and Tonya. If you want to be able to spend time with them without sweating the past—”

  Victor hushed me with a quick kiss. “Baby—I’m fine with the way things are. Trust me. I’m fucking ha
ppy, man. Because of you and because we have the option of seeing everyone else if we ever get out from under this desire to be super antisocial and hole up together in Whitestone.” He pulled his hat on, looking cute as hell, scars and tattoos and all. “Besides, Ray isn’t the sit down and talk about our past fistfights type. If he said a handful of words to me, I’m gonna assume we’re on normal terms, and I’m good with normalcy after years of fuckery.”

  “As long as you’re happy.”

  “Oh, I am.” Victor kissed me again, harder, and flicked his tongue at my lips just before pulling away. “Are you?”

  “Very happy.” I ran my fingers along his dark beard. “More than I’ve been in a long time.”

  This time, it was me pulling him in for a longer kiss. But I didn’t let go.

  The End