Ryan stared at me with a blank look. “Huh. Learn something new every day.”
I held out my arm. “Well then, my Viking lord, shall we away?”
Caleb looped his arm through mine. “We shall.” He leaned in to whisper in my ear, “I’ll save the plundering until later tonight.”
I snorted. His sense of humor was dorky, but effective. It made me also reconsider waiting until we were married to kiss again. However, Groom’thulu wasn’t about to go back on something like that. Instead, I was a gentleman and merely escorted my fiancé to the car.
The ceremony took place at the Leach Botanical Gardens in southeast Portland. I had had to reserve it almost the moment I got home from the hospital where I had proposed to Caleb. It was a small venue, so we only invited family, close friends and coworkers, and the members of our Pagan Society that wouldn’t have to drive more than an hour to attend. The wedding party was me, Caleb, and our respective Best Men and Maids of Honor. I had Ryan and Eliza; Caleb had his fellow veterinarian, Nadir, and his best friend since high school, Crissy.
Everyone and everything was ready when we arrived. I had hired one of the freelance photographers who did occasional work for my design team, even though I had wanted to take the photos myself. Caleb had pointed out that unless I wanted all our couples photos to be selfies, that wouldn’t work out. The photographer got pictures of us getting out of the car, standing with our wedding party, holding hands and gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, the usual.
Then the music started. I immediately got the hiccups from being so anxious. Caleb giggled beside me and thumped me on the back when I wasn’t expecting it. I had been holding my breath at the time, and the combination of cures did the trick. As I compulsively exhaled, I was surprised not to see any butterflies escaping from my stomach.
Nadir escorted Eliza down the aisle, and Ryan and Crissy followed behind. Caleb’s and my parents walked behind us. At the end of the aisle, our parents took their seats in the audience, giving us away to each other. The arch-druid stood under the archway we had decorated in gold and yellow with little bells hanging from them by rainbow ribbons, so the pleasant sound would keep bad spirits away. The seven altars to the various pantheons were set up behind it, already decorated with offerings people had made before the ceremony. Uncle Jack’s photo smiled at me from the shrine to the ancestors.
The arch-druid raised his hands. “Today, we are gathered in the eyes of gods and men to bind together Caleb Mitkin and Ethan Ward,” he said. “May their hearts and souls become as one from now until eternity.”
Caleb and I made offerings of incense on the central Celtic altar, invoking our patron deities so they could witness our union. The arch-druid made a small speech about the meaning of marriage in the Pagan tradition. I had heard it all before, and I was on the verge of hiccups again. I willed my diaphragm to be still, but could do nothing about my heart bouncing around inside my chest, one moment beating inside my throat and the next stirring up the butterflies in my belly. There was a light breeze under my kilt, but I was sweating heavily beneath my three upper layers.
At the end of his spiel, the arch-druid asked, “Do you wish to take this oath of marriage?”
“I do,” we said.
“Caleb, Ethan, join hands.” The arch-druid pulled out a long green and gold woven cord. I took Caleb’s left hand in my left and his right in my right, forming a sort of knot. The arch-druid began wrapping the cord around our hands as he said the vows. He said them once to Caleb, then repeated them to me.
“Do you, Ethan, promise to love and cherish Caleb, from now until the end of your days?”
“I do.”
“Do you promise to live a life of compassion and loyalty, in good times and bad?”
“I do.”
“Do you promise to share in each other’s struggles, your dreams, your failings, your successes, your sorrows, your joys, and all else in between?”
“I do.”
The arch-druid fastened the ends of the cord together. “And so the binding is made.”
It was time for our vows. Caleb went first. “Ethan, I thank the gods every day for bringing us together. Neither of us had things easy before we met, and it hasn’t exactly been champagne and beach days ever since, but with you in my life I know the true meaning of happiness. It’s having someone there beside you in life’s journeys, someone who understands and cares and enriches that journey, every step of the way. Though the world is…scary these days, I know that so long as you walk beside me, we will make it through anything, together.”
It took me a moment to compose myself. “Caleb, I never thought I would meet anyone like you. Another gay man? Absolutely. Another Pagan? Sure. Another best friend? Perhaps. To find all of that, and much more, in one man who makes me feel complete, that is a miracle. I, too, thank the gods for bestowing that miracle on me, on us, so that we could lead a miraculous life together.” My voice shook. “No matter what happens, no matter how many people say it’s wrong or try to split us up, we will always have that miracle, and this bond, and no one can take that away.”
The arch-druid put his hands over ours. “Caleb, Ethan, by the Shining Ones, the Kindred, and all those gathered here, I pronounce you married. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”
We couldn’t oblige fast enough. Everything else vanished like smoke and shadows compared to the burning passion we shared. Yes, we lived in rough times, and there was no guarantee they wouldn’t get rougher, but now I was his, and he was mine. From that moment on, regardless of how the world saw us or the obstacles we faced, I would walk with my head held high, hand in hand with my husband.
* * * *
ABOUT FERAL SEPHRIAN
Feral Sephrian is a self-described genderqueer liberal feminist independent open-minded autistic vegan Pagan furry who enjoys telling stories with diverse characters and cultures, especially ones that involve in-depth research. No minority is too small for representation. No majority is too large to be infallible.
This story is a follow-up to Yule Be in My Heart, published by JMS Books.
The Reasons Why by J.M. Snyder
It’d been a long day at the office, and when Eliot Travers pulled into the driveway, all he wanted was a tall glass of cold iced tea and enough aspirin to knock out the headache that had started in his shoulders sometime after lunch and had slowly crept into his temples by late afternoon. As the clock had counted down to five thirty, the only thing that got Eliot through to the end of the day was the thought of stretching out on the couch for a quick, much needed nap before dinner.
Which Ben said he’d make.
A smile flickered across Eliot’s face at the thought of his lover, Ben Hartley. Husband, he mentally corrected. The moment the state legalized same-sex marriage, Ben had wasted no time popping the question. The man wrote erotic ebooks for a living; he was romantic to a fault, Eliot had to admit. If only he could keep house as well as he made love…
He’s working on it, Eliot reminded himself.
It was a familiar argument between them. Ben was a self-employed author and worked from home, while Eliot spent eight hours or more every weekday at the accounting firm where he was a senior auditor. Eliot didn’t have the time or energy to put in a full day behind a desk only to come home and cook and clean, too. Ben, on the other hand, slept in well after Eliot’s alarm went off in the mornings, spent his days playing around on social media, and had plenty of opportunity to straighten the place up before Eliot got home. Why he didn’t was beginning to become a point of contention between them.
As Eliot got out of the car, he noticed the grass needed to be cut. The evening newspaper was on the steps leading up to the porch, where it had been carelessly tossed by the paperboy and Ben hadn’t yet come out to pick it up. Even the mail was still in the box, sitting there since it’d been delivered earlier in the day.
Seriously? Eliot tried to tamp down his anger, but how hard was it to open the door and step outside at some p
oint before he got home? The grass he could overlook, but the mail? Hell, Ben didn’t even need to get dressed to bring that in.
Once inside, he paused in the foyer to drop the mail onto what used to be the phone table by the stairs leading to the second floor. Now that both he and Ben had cell phones, the table was a catch-all covered with all sorts of crap. One of these days Eliot would sit down and go through everything, though he’d lost count of how many times he had asked Ben to do it. Unopened mail, loose change, old receipts, dried out pens, expired coupons…most of it could be thrown away.
“Ben?” Eliot called out. He couldn’t smell anything cooking yet. Better not be planning on ordering takeout. Heading down the hallway towards the kitchen, he tried again. “Ben, where—”
“Here, babe.”
His lover’s voice came from the living room. Eliot turned in mid-stride and entered to find Ben sprawled out along the very same couch Eliot had hoped to catch a quick nap on before dinner. His sandy hair was tousled as if he’d just woken up, despite the hour, and he wore the same clothes he’d worn to bed—a thin pair of plaid lounge pants and a tie-dye T-shirt that clashed horribly. His wireframe glasses were pushed up onto his forehead so he had to squint at the phone in his hands.
As Eliot came up behind Ben, he could see from the screen that his husband wasn’t reading or working on edits or answering emails, or doing anything even remotely writing-related. No, Ben was playing Angry Birds.
“That looks productive.”
Ben leaned his head back, and his pale gray eyes crinkled into half-moons when he smiled up at Eliot. “Hey, sexy. Missed you. Kiss me.”
Eliot bent down to plant a perfunctory kiss on Ben’s lips.
Before he could stand, Ben grabbed his tie to keep him in place. “Nice try,” Ben murmured. “Now kiss me for real. Like you mean it.”
With an exasperated sigh, Eliot rolled his eyes but did as asked. He covered Ben’s mouth with his own, then opened his lips, parting Ben’s to ease his tongue between his lover’s. Ben tasted like lazy summer days, wine coolers and Doritos, and beneath the mingling fizz was a flavor all his own.
Eliot pulled back first and Ben ran a hand down the front of his shirt, as if smoothing down his tie. “Come sit with me,” he said, raising his legs to make room on the couch.
But Eliot wasn’t in the mood. “What’s for dinner?”
Ben’s expression didn’t change. “What were you thinking?”
Eliot pulled his tie out of Ben’s hand and stood. “You haven’t started it yet?”
“I will,” Ben said, reaching for him, but Eliot stepped away. “Eliot, I said I will…”
“Do you know what time it is? What have you been doing all day?” Eliot asked. Was it too much to ask? He’d spent the last eight hours at work so what, Ben could sit on his ass playing video games? “Must be nice to sit around and do nothing. I thought you had a story to write.”
“I do,” Ben said, defensive. “I wrote all morning, dinner just slipped my mind, okay? I’ll start it in a few minutes.”
“Do you even know what you’re going to make?” Eliot wanted to know.
Tossing his phone aside, Ben sat up. “Come here, will you? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Eliot said. “I’m tired, and I’m hungry, and—”
“Come here.” Ben caught his hand and pulled him closer.
Eliot tried to resist, but who was he kidding? This was his husband. He never could withstand Ben’s charms for long.
Opening his legs, Ben guided Eliot into the span between his knees. He wrapped his arms around Eliot’s waist, then rested his chin on Eliot’s belly, looking up at his lover. “There we go,” he said, hugging Eliot tight. “Can’t we just cuddle for a second? I haven’t seen you all day—”
“You could’ve started cooking before I got home.” Eliot ran a hand through Ben’s thick head of hair, tugging gently when he reached the ends. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Hush,” Ben admonished.
Before Eliot could say another word, Ben stood and covered Eliot’s mouth with his own, silencing him. This time their kiss was deep and heady, breathtaking. It erased all the anger in Eliot, leaving him weak-kneed and shaky when Ben finally broke away.
“No fighting,” he whispered against Eliot’s lips. “Did you have a bad day?”
“A long one,” Eliot admitted. Resting his head on Ben’s shoulder, he traced the slight growth of hair along his lover’s chin. “I have a headache and I’m tired and I’m hungry—”
“Aww, poor baby.” Ben kissed the curve of Eliot’s jaw. “Let me make it all better.”
Eliot turned his face away. “You know what would make it better? Maybe doing something around the house for a change, instead of sitting on your butt playing games all day long.”
“I wasn’t—”
“What did you do all day, Ben?” Eliot asked. “The lawn needs to be mowed, the mail wasn’t brought in, dinner isn’t made…if you didn’t do anything I asked you to, what exactly did you do? Can you tell me that?”
“I made you something,” Ben whispered.
“Really.” Eliot bit back any further reply, but God, he wanted to point out how much a waste of time it was to make him anything when there were chores that needed to be done and a story Ben needed to write. “Well? What is it?”
A mischievous grin toyed with the edges of Ben’s lips. He ran a hand down Eliot’s arm, sending a pleasant shiver along Eliot’s spine. “It’s a surprise. I worked on it all day—”
“Instead of doing anything constructive,” Eliot snapped.
Ben’s eyes darkened, not with anger but with hurt. As if on cue, the corners of his mouth turned down into a faint pout and he ducked his head enough so that when he looked up at Eliot, he had a hangdog expression on his face.
Yeah, make me feel like the bad guy, Eliot thought, but you know I’m right. I wouldn’t get those puppy dog eyes if I wasn’t.
The moment stretched out between them until Eliot caved. “Fine, just show me.”
“You didn’t see it?” Ben asked. “I left it on the table by the stairs…”
He nodded at the phone table in the hall, and Eliot sighed. “I was already over there. It’s a mess. That’s one of the things you’re supposed to do, remember? Clean it off, sort the mail, pay the bills—”
“Just go look again, please?” Ben asked in a small voice.
Eliot sighed. “If I look, will you at least start making us something to eat?”
“Yes, I promise.” With a hopeful look, Ben added, “Or I can order—”
“No takeout,” Eliot warned.
Ben’s face fell. “Not even pho?”
Eliot narrowed his eyes. “We have food in the house. I’ll go see what you made me—”
His lover’s grin returned in a flash. “I hope you like it.”
“—and then I want to eat,” Eliot finished. “Something homecooked. Is that too much to ask?”
Ben’s shoulders slumped, dejected. “No. I’m sorry. I should’ve been paying attention to the time.”
“Well, make it up to me.”
“I will.” Ben gave him a sad smile. “Go see what I made.”
Eliot couldn’t imagine what it might be. When he’d dropped the mail onto the table, nothing had struck him as new or out of place. Just a bunch of papers and unopened letters strewn across the top, things that should’ve been gone through and cleared away long ago. Now he shrugged out of Ben’s embrace and headed over to the table again, for a closer look this time.
At first all he saw was the stack of mail he’d dropped when he came in. Moving that aside, Eliot noticed a piece of paper folded in half. Across it, in Ben’s block writing, was written the words, The Reasons Why I Love YOU.
There’s more than one? he thought, unfolding the note.
Inside was written, 1. Your smile.
Which is hiding right now, he thought, though the note did bring a smile to his face.
Out loud, he said, “How cute. This took you all day? I find that hard to believe…”
As he turned, he noticed another piece of paper, just a small scrap folded in half, with a large number 2 written on it. It lay on the landing of the stairs—had it been there before? He didn’t remember seeing it. “Ben, what…?”
Eliot glanced into the living room and Ben simply shrugged, the smirk on his face ill-concealed.
“Did you just put that there?” he asked.
Ben struggled to keep from snickering. “Nuh-uh.”
“I swear I didn’t see that earlier.” When Eliot bent down to pick it up, he saw another note on the first step. And another, and another…a trail of paper led the way upstairs, each piece labeled with a number. Eliot picked up the second one and opened it. Your hands, it read. Inside the third was written, Your laugh. In the fourth, Your eyes.
Eliot couldn’t pick the papers up fast enough. The way you wink at me, one read, and halfway up the stairs, The way you smell when you first get out of the shower.
When you hold me close.
When you call me your boy.
When you kiss me awake.
Each piece of paper had something different written on it, and Eliot hurried up the stairs, reading each one as quickly as he could before he bent to pick up the next. At the top of the steps his hands were full of paper, and the trail continued down the hall and through the open door of the bedroom they shared. His headache was gone now, his anger dissipated, and his smile was in full force. He didn’t know if Ben had followed him upstairs or not, but he planned on kissing his husband properly when he saw the man again. As far as he was concerned, dinner could wait.
He followed the trail into their room. The next one read: 50. The way you look when you’re asleep in my arms.
Jesus, Eliot thought, scooping up the last piece of paper. He came up with fifty reasons why he loves me? Fifty? No wonder he didn’t have time for anything else all day. My God…
Then he looked up and saw the bed, covered in dozens of tiny pieces of paper, each one numbered, each one containing another reason why Ben loved him. Eliot dropped the papers he held to scoop up a handful of the ones on the bed. How would he ever read them all? He saw some numbered into the hundreds…God, he loved that man.
Love Is Proud Page 38
