by Sean Michael
“Yes. Yes, love. Yes. I will.”
Rye got up, lifting him up off the ground and kissing him.
Whoa. He was engaged.
Rye squeezed him. “I love you.”
“You asked me to marry you.”
“And you said yes.”
“I did.”
Rye grinned at him. “I bet they have jewelry shops in town.”
“Do I get a ring?” He liked that idea.
“You do. Something unique. We could go down to city hall too. Investigate getting a license.” Rye carried him upstairs.
“Here it’ll be a civil union.”
“You want to go somewhere that it can be a marriage?”
“We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
“Yeah, tomorrow. Tonight we’re busy.”
They got to the bedroom, and Rye sat on the bed. Jeff settled into Rye’s lap, offering him a kiss.
“Mmm.” Rye was smiling again when their lips parted. “My husband-to-be.”
“I’ve never been a husband before.”
“Me neither, baby.” Leaning back, Rye brought him down onto his favorite mattress ever.
They could figure it out, together. That sounded pretty damn good.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WELL, GOING ring shopping was out.
The snow was coming down like crazy, big flakes blown around by the wind. It didn’t mean the day was a total wash, though.
“Hey, baby. We should go play in the snow.”
Jeff was curled in a chair, staring at the snow, fascinated. “Huh?”
“We have snow pants and stuff. Let’s go out and play.”
“Snow pants?”
“To keep your lower half dry and warm.” Rye went to their bags and started digging through them.
“You’re silly.” Still, Jeff was fascinated.
“Are you kidding? We could build a snowman. We could have a snowball fight. Hell, we can go sledding—I’m pretty sure there’s a sled here somewhere.”
“Is there enough snow for sledding?”
“I don’t know. It’s been at it a while. We’ll have to see, huh?” He found the winter gear and tossed the boots toward the door, the snow pants and jacket in Jeff’s direction.
“Seriously? We’re going out in it?” That was a charming, excited little smile.
“Yes, seriously. You need help getting your gear on?”
“I guess. I mean, they’re pants….”
“I usually prefer getting into your pants,” Rye teased.
“They’re blue.”
How long had it been since Jeff wore colors? “Yep. And the jacket is crazy multicolored.” It was a snowboarder jacket actually, but he thought the colors would suit his baby.
“It’s pretty. You won’t lose me, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, a white outfit would be a mistake.”
His own pants were red, and his jacket was just as colorful. He had mittens and hats and scarves too. There was a lot of paraphernalia.
“Is all this necessary?”
“Baby, snow is cold, and we’re going to be out in it for a while.” And his lover had zero reserves. No fat, no padding. Rye got his pants, boots, and jacket on before moving to help Jeff sort everything out.
“This is heavy.” Jeff took a step. “And it squeaks.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ll get used to it.” He hoped. He put on Jeff’s scarf and handed over the mitts. “Okay, we’re ready.”
They headed out, and Jeff looked up to the flakes, eyes lit up. “It’s beautiful!”
“Yeah, it is.” Rye raised his own head to the sky, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue. He hadn’t been sure if Mr. I Hate The Outdoors would come out, but the snow seemed to fascinate Jeff, making him spin and wander. Maybe the lack of sunshine helped. He trailed Jeff for a bit, then bent and grabbed a handful of snow. It packed easily, and he tossed the snowball at Jeff’s back.
Jeff stepped forward, then spun around. “You threw snow at me!”
“Not just snow.” He bent and gathered more snow, again packing it loosely before tossing it at Jeff.
Jeff’s eyes went wide, and then a huge handful got scooped up. Rye put his hands on his hips, daring Jeff to throw the snowball—time to see how his baby’s aim was. It hit him right in the chin, the icy puffball just exploding.
Gasping, he grabbed another handful himself and tossed it. Jeff twisted, and it missed him; the next one hit the center of his chest. Snickering, Rye gathered more snow, moving a few steps to the left as he lobbed his missile at Jeff, catching him on the shoulder.
“Meanie bodyguard!” Jeff moved quickly, zipping around him, and pegging him in the back of the head.
“You’re the one making the head shots!” And taking it far more seriously than he’d expected; he needed to start moving. Running off away from the house, Rye grabbed and tossed a couple of balls in quick succession.
Jeff laughed hard, following until he slipped, landing on his knees.
“You okay?” He jogged over to Jeff.
“Yeah. Yeah, just tripped.” Jeff let him help him up, and Rye half expected a face full of snow but got a kiss instead.
Grinning, he kissed Jeff back. There was a lovely glow on Jeff’s cheeks, his lover’s lips cold. “Love you. This is…. It’s magic, Rye.”
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? You want to make snow angels next?”
“We have to take pictures!”
“Yeah, yeah. You want me to go get my phone, or should we do that next time?”
“We need the first ones!” The excited happiness in Jeff’s voice made Rye’s mouth dry.
“You got it. I’ll be back in a second.” Rye trotted back to the house, grabbed his phone, then rejoined his baby.
“So, we just fall back?”
“Yep. And then wave your arms and legs up and down.”
“Okay. Make sure you get it.” Jeff fell back, making angels. God, the cuteness.
Rye took a few pictures, then held his hand out for Jeff’s. “I’ll pull you up, so you don’t ruin it.” Jeff reached for him, looking so happy. He pulled Jeff up, lifting him out of his snow angel impression. “Look!” He snapped some more pictures.
“I did it! You next, my beautiful giant.”
“Does that mean I’m making snow giants instead of snow angels?” God, he was having fun.
“Giant snow angels.”
Chuckling, Rye found a clear patch and flung himself back.
“Yay! Now wave your arms!”
He did, his feet too, moving them through the snow. He felt like a kid again. Jeff took picture after picture, the man cackling like a loon. “Okay. Okay.” Rye finally climbed out of the snow. “Snowman.”
Jeff nodded. “Snowman, then cocoa.”
“Oh yeah. I do believe that’s the best part of playing in the snow.” In fact, his lover was a little shivery already. Okay, they’d make a small snowman. “You roll the head, I’ll get the bottom done.”
“Okay.” Jeff watched him a second, then started making a ball and rolling it.
He got a base settled, then began the next ball. Once it was done, he carried it over and set it on top of the base. “Yours?”
“Coming. You were fast.” Jeff was breathing hard, tiring himself out.
“I’m ready to go in, but I wanted you to have your first snowman.”
“What about arms and eyes?”
“We need to find a couple rocks and some sticks. A carrot for the nose.”
“’Kay. I’ll get the carrot?”
“And I’ll get the sticks.” He tried not to chuckle but couldn’t contain it.
“And rocks. Don’t forget the rocks.”
“Yes, boss.” He began looking, searching around the house for sticks and rocks. It took a bit, but he found the sticks. Jeff came out of the house and put the carrot nose and then two carrot vampire teeth on the snowman. Rye started giggling.
Jeff grinned at him, posed. “It’s me, without the ink.�
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Rye tried to take a picture, but he was laughing too hard. Jeff looked so pleased, so tickled. Rye grabbed his lover, rolling them over and over in the snow.
“Cold. Cold, Rye!” Jeff was giggling hard, the words barely distinguishable. Rye ended up on the bottom, grinning up at Jeff. “I like snow.”
“I can tell. And it’s a good look on you.” He brought their mouths together, enjoying the way the heat of Jeff’s mouth and the cold of his lips merged. Jeff moaned for him, the sound pushing into his lips. They kissed until even the heat of their kiss couldn’t keep him warm. “Okay. Inside.”
“Uh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”
“You’re on top of me,” Rye pointed out.
“Uh-huh.” Jeff rolled up, then offered him a hand.
He took it, but got up under his own power and hustled them both inside. “That fire is going to feel damn good.”
“Uh-huh.” Jeff’s teeth were chattering.
Rye stripped his lover down and put Jeff in front of the fire they’d lit earlier. “Stay put, and I’ll get you that hot chocolate.”
“Thank you. Thanks. That was so fun.”
“It was.” Still grinning, he went into the kitchen, quickly throwing a couple cups of milk into a pot and grabbing some brown sugar and some cocoa. It didn’t take long for him to get a couple mugs of hot chocolate ready, and he tossed a boatload of mini marshmallows into Jeff’s.
Jeff was dozing, bundled up near the fire. There had been a lot less of that in the last couple days than before they came here. And he’d totally worked Jeff out there. It was a good thing. Fresh air made you tired, anyway.
He’d let Jeff doze for fifteen minutes or so, until the hot chocolate cooled enough to drink. Slipping onto the couch, he took Jeff into his arms. God, he loved this man.
Jeff’s eyes fluttered open. “Cocoa.”
“You know it.” They were going to have to buy more.
“Smells good.”
“It is good. I almost brought some more s’mores stuff too but decided at the last minute not to.”
“I just want this.”
“Cool. So you enjoyed our morning in the snow, eh?”
“I did. That was so cool.”
“The first of many. I liked watching you make snow angels the best.”
Jeff grinned and nodded, looking more at peace than he’d ever seen. Rye kissed the tip of Jeff’s nose and risked a sip of his hot chocolate. Life was pretty good.
JEFF LOVED it up here. Loved it. There was nothing but happy quiet and snow.
It took him a week before the guitar called to him, and he started writing, playing, lost in the sound for hours. He’d emerge from it to find Rye right there, watching him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Hey.” His fingers were sore, his throat aching, but he was happy.
“Hey baby. You’re amazing.”
“Just messing around. I wasn’t bothering you, was I?”
“If that’s you just messing around, it’s going to be unbelievably good when you really set your mind to it. And if you were bothering me, I could have moved to another room. I love watching you play, baby. You’re transcendent.”
“I was just writing some stuff.” Jeff stood up, rolled his shoulders.
Rye stood as well, coming over and putting a hand on his shoulder. It was warm, good. “When are you going to admit that you’ve got a gift?”
“January had one. The band had something special.” It was the first time he’d let himself think of the band since they’d come here. His mind still wanted to skitter away from those thoughts.
“January only had a gift because you do. And those songs… they’re better than anything you did as January.”
“Thank you.” Rye was sweet.
“I mean it, baby. I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass.”
He chuckled, the phrase tickling him. “Perv.”
Rye hugged him. “That’s me. Your own personal perv.”
He hugged Rye back and then put his guitar away, careful.
“You want to go into town and see if we can find your ring?”
“Sure. No one will recognize me, right?”
“There’s no way. You don’t look anything like January. He’s pale and pointed and fangy.”
“And not nearly bald.” He liked it, really, liked how it felt.
“Not bald, short-haired. It’s totally different.”
Jeff rubbed his hand over the stubble. “It is for me.”
Rye chuckled. “I meant super-short and bald were different.” Rye kissed the top of his head. “Come on. If anyone recognizes you, I’ll protect you.”
“My bodyguard.”
“That’s right.” Rye wrapped him in a hug, pulling him up against the solid, big body. Jeff snuggled in and rested, just letting himself melt. “We’ll lose the whole afternoon if we’re not careful.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t move, though.
Rye chuckled. “You want to just sit and cuddle?”
“No. No, it’s cool. You’re just so warm.” And he was happy.
“We’ll make sure you’re well bundled up. We might think of getting a bunch of supplies in town—I saw there was a storm warning for tomorrow.”
“That sounds good.” He needed a hat and some paper.
“Cool. So we’ll go.” Rye kissed him, then stood, getting them moving.
Jeff dressed, put on his sunglasses, his heavy coat.
Rye put big puffy mitts on his hands, chuckling. “I look like a nerd.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
Rye pulled his toque down over his head and put on a pair of gloves, and they went out. The cold seeped in, sliding into his bones. Hustling Jeff into the car, Rye put the heat on, and it was soon pumping out hot air as they drove.
The road was clear, and they trundled into town, the fancy SUV bouncing along. Rye put on the radio, flipping around until he found some easy listening.
“You don’t want death metal?” He had to tease. Had to.
Rye gave him a death metal glare. “We need to tape you and use that next time we’re out driving.”
“I’m sure I have January performances.” He did enjoy teasing the bear.
“Not him. You. I want to hear you.”
“We’re the same person.”
“No, you’re not. He’s a character you wear like a coat.”
“He’s more charismatic than I am. I don’t miss the contacts.”
“Your music is far better than his, baby. Far better.”
Jeff loved how Rye loved him. Rye’s hand slid over his leg, squeezed, and then he turned his attention back to the road. Jeff changed the channel until he found a classic rock station, and then he started singing. Rye started singing along. Rye’s voice was low, fine, and he enjoyed listening. Jeff was almost disappointed when they got to the city center, parking in a little lot.
“So, what’s the plan?”
“We go to the ring store. We go to the grocery store, and then, if the weather still looks good, I buy you dinner.”
“And I need a soft hat and some paper.”
“A soft hat? What kind of soft hat?”
“Just something for the house when my head is cold.”
“Oh, I get it. Cool.”
Rye got a parking slip and put it in the window, and then they were off, walking through the charming Main Street.
There were a dozen little shops, and Jeff amused himself window shopping, until he hit the toy store. He didn’t even have to say anything; Rye just chuckled and went to the door, holding it open for him. He grinned and hurried in, bouncing a little.
Rye’s soft laughter followed him, solid and happy. Oh, man. So many colors. Games. He loved games.
“You looking for anything in particular, Jeff?”
“It’s all cool, huh? Do you like toys?”
“I guess? I haven’t played with them in a long time. We could get a couple of board games to augment our backgammon
board.”
“Yeah? I’d love to.” He could just take one of everything.
“Okay, whatever you want. If I don’t know how to play it, you can teach me.”
“We can teach each other.”
“That sounds great, baby.” Rye held his arms out. “Pile me up.”
Jeff cracked up for him.
Grinning, Rye pointed out the board game section. There were a ton. He even recognized most of them. “Oh, Mousetrap. I remember that one from when I was a kid.”
“Yeah? There’s Life and Parcheesi. Who the hell names a game Parcheesi?”
“Some very cheesy guy.”
Jeff barked out a snort, both surprised and tickled.
“We’ll put it on the pile and find out if it’s any good.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good, Rye.” Jeff couldn’t stop smiling.
“Love making you laugh, baby.” Rye’s gaze was hot, and he had the feeling if they weren’t in public, he’d have been pounced.
They bought cards and board games and a few wind-up toys. Then Rye picked up a monkey with really long arms, the hands at the end of them velcroed. “A hugging monkey. I love it.” Rye put it on their pile.
“Can we get a saucer sled?”
“Yeah. We need a cart. Or to pile this stuff at the register.”
“I don’t think they’re big enough for carts.”
“Okay, pile it by the register it is.” Rye went and dumped his armful of board games, before coming back with one of those little hand baskets.
“Now we can break the bank.”
“Uh-huh. Crayons.”
“Coloring books or construction paper?”
Rye picked up a couple books. “Look, they’ve got zoo animals and Bugs Bunny.”
“Dude. Cool. They have the kaleidoscope ones too. Get those.” Rye put a bunch of books and a pad of construction paper in the bag. “You like Lego?”
“I used to build the big kits in my bus.”
“Oh, that’s cool. Let’s get some. I haven’t played with it since I was little.”
“Sure. There’s Ninjas, Star Wars, buildings.”
“Oh, let’s go with the Ninjas!” There were about six different kits with the Ninjas, and he handed them all to Rye, who chuckled for him. He grabbed the R2-D2 one too, just because. Winter was long.
