Only Keep You

by JD Chambers

  We decide to just carry the leash and his hood for now, because I don’t want him overheating, and also just for practical purposes, but Blue is definitely in puppy mode. He stays glued to me and rubs his face against my bare arms, exposed in the loose tank top I decided to wear. His gaze darts all around us, but he constantly keeps in contact with me in some way or another. When we finally hit the sidewalk, Blue doesn’t hold my hand like Dave might. He wraps his body around my arm, clutching it to him and snuggling into my side as we walk. If it weren’t Pride, I might be nervous at such an open display in the middle of the city, but we’re surrounded by Pride everywhere.

  It is all beautiful, some of it crazy, and some of it sweet. There’s a person dressed as Tinky Winky from Teletubbies. Dogs, the real kind, have been wrestled into rainbow tutus, and some even look like they’re enjoying it. Couples and throuples and groups of friends express themselves with abandon, everywhere you look. A man with a rainbow fedora, wafting a suspicious fragrance, gives hugs to everyone he meets, and everywhere, people wish each other a “Happy Pride.”

  When we get to our group, I can’t help but laugh. Blue is probably the most conservatively dressed pup here, and his eyes bug out as he takes it all in. There’s even a pup in a full rubber suit. How is that guy – I surmise, given that the suit leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination – not going to get heatstroke?

  The question must be written all over my face, because his handler chuckles, and says, “I’ve got a cooler full of crushed ice that I feed him and pour inside the suit every little while. As long as he stays hydrated, and takes breaks, he’s okay.”

  I marvel at the determination of some of these guys. It seems to inspire Blue as well, as he reaches down and slips his t-shirt off.

  “You do what you’re comfortable with, okay?”

  Blue nudges my neck and gives me a soft woof.

  “Then I have more sunscreening to do. Work, work, work,” I tease him, taking his shirt and placing it in my pack as I get out the sunscreen. Blue’s eyes practically roll back into his head as I spread the sunscreen across his chest. He heaves a sigh, and the other pups have knowing looks. It’s like a tummy rub plus. I would say tummy rub with benefits, but I’m pretty sure that’s something else entirely.

  I clip my leash onto Blue’s collar, and he puts his hood into place. The organizer, a pup named Max, hands out pup pride and rainbow pride flags for us to wave.

  The parade starts shortly after we arrive; we were cutting it close, but we had a ways to drive. The group is thankfully near the front, after Dykes on Bikes starts the parade, followed by the Grand Marshals and some of the bigger floats. The crowd is fired up, and with every passing step, Blue’s chest puffs up higher and prouder. The pups around him bark to the crowd, and he happily joins in.

  At one point, when the parade has stalled as it often does, a young girl runs toward Blue. I honestly think that one of the most shocking aspects of this whole day is how many families, especially straight-looking – though I know that doesn’t mean anything – families, are in the crowd.

  A woman’s voice rings out, “Wait, Ellie. You have to ask permission before you can pet the puppy.”

  It takes a second for me to realize that she was talking to the girl approaching Blue.

  “Can I pet your puppy?” the girl asks me.

  When I recover enough to respond, and get a quick check from Blue to make sure it’s okay with him too, I say, “Sure. As long as you’re gentle.”

  Blue kneels down, and the little girl’s parents have taught her well how to behave around real dogs. She holds out her tiny palm in front of Blue’s muzzle, and when he gives her a playful bark, she giggles and pets his head.

  “Good boy,” she tells him, and he barks louder, making a show of wagging his tail.

  “I wish I could be a puppy,” the girl says wistfully, before running back to her family. She waves and shouts goodbye to us as the parade picks back up. Blue stands and wraps his arms around my waist.

  Yeah, I think I can write that one up as the highlight of my day, right there. I know Blue is overflowing with the love and acceptance, because he’s trembling with it.

  After the parade, we part from the group. Blue feels comfortable enough to give licks and nuzzles to some of the other pups he’s made friends with today. We haven’t been to a mosh yet, but after today, I can certainly understand the appeal. Especially for excitable and frisky puppies. There’s something wonderful about knowing you belong somewhere.

  First stop is somewhere for lunch. Blue removes his hood and replaces his t-shirt, but leaves everything else, including the leash. I was worried I would have to drop it when we mixed in with big crowds, but Blue stays glued to my side, and it isn’t an issue.

  As soon as we’re seated, thankfully at a booth, Blue slides in next to me and leans against my shoulder. I hold his water glass for him as he slowly sips the cold liquid through a bendy straw and uses a menu to fan his face. He was flushed and sweaty upon removing his hood and slides the bandana up around his head like a scarf to hold back his sweat-soaked hair.

  I can tell the moment he returns to his “Dave” headspace, because it looks like he has so much to say and is having trouble keeping it all in. When he’s Blue, he’s always perfectly content at not having to open his mouth expect to give a happy bark or a bratty growl.

  “Thank you so much for this,” he says, still snuggling in to me. “It was amazing.”

  “It really was, but you don’t have to thank me. I think I got just as much out of it as you did.”

  “Right. What did you get out of it?”

  I lean over and place a kiss on top of his head. “I don’t think you quite grasp yet what it does to me to see you so happy.”

  “Oh my god, the little girl.” The words burst forth as if replaying all the happy moments from the parade in his head. “And then when the drag queen came out and whipped the leather daddy in front of us? Holy hell.”

  “Whipping, huh? Interesting.”

  Dave squeaks and almost inhales his sip of ice water. “Not for me!” Once he gets himself under control, he shyly adds, “I kind of like watching it though.”

  His flush that I was finally getting under control with my cooling-off efforts returns in full force.

  We eat and recount our favorite moments of the parade, then decide to go to the festival for a bit. By the time we arrive back home to Fort Collins that evening, we are exhausted, slightly sunburned, and filled with joy.

  Dave asks me to sleep over, even though it means that he’ll wake up earlier than necessary. We shower together, and cuddle in bed. Being in the sun all day has zapped us of our strength and libido, but the experience of today makes our tangle of limbs that much sweeter. I loved watching my tender, joyful man come alive and fill with confidence, and I hope that it carries over into his daily life as well. I’ve never met anyone more beautiful, inside and out, and I selfishly want the world to see it too.

  13

  Dave

  The Fourth of July is my second parade in almost as many weeks. Only this time, without Arthur here to remind me, I’m burnt to a crisp.

  Ted insists on doing a Game Over float every year, saying it’s great for publicity, but really, I think he’s just a great big kid at heart and loves parades. Maybe Arthur and I can convince him to come to Pride with us next year, and that will fulfil his parade needs and we won’t have to do the Fourth parade again.

  At least we don’t have to wear costumes this year. I think we have Craig to thank for that one. I tried to push for an Avengers-themed float, but Craig said that unless I was volunteering to be doused in green paint, it was a “no-go.” I would have volunteered Arthur, but unfortunately Arthur had already agreed to visit his brother in Boulder for the holiday.

  Instead, employees, or former employees who actually want to be subjected to this torture, are allowed to wear either our nerdiest video game t-shirt or an old Game Over t-shirt from the archives. Jonat
han, Ted’s nephew and former Game Over employee, arrives with Ms. Pac-Man socks pulled up to his knees and a Pac-Man antennae headband. Speakers on the back of Ted’s truck blast a variety of classic video game songs, and while Craig, Laura, Elijah, and I wave from the back of the float, Jonathan, Jason, and Dexter, one of our newest college hires, walk around and hand out stickers and brightly colored gummy candies.

  After the parade, I spend the afternoon resting up before meeting some of the guys back in Old Town. I have a whole new appreciation for Arthur’s Boy Scout-like preparedness. At the end of Pride, I was tired, but not with the feeling of full-body depletion that I have at the moment. By the end of the Fourth of July parade, I was dumping entire cups of cold water over my head in an attempt to cool down. Water and naps and bananas are needed, and not necessarily in that order.

  Later that evening, I park behind Game Over in the parking lot that sort of merges into the alley that runs behind all of the College Street-facing stores. Elijah and Jason and another part-timer have decided to celebrate in Old Town instead of going to the fireworks, and they’ve asked me to join them.

  I miss Arthur, but as has become my habit, whenever I’m feeling insecure or missing him, I touch my tag that hangs from a chain around my neck. I bought it at a kiosk at the mall for two dollars, so when that simple touch suddenly has the whole thing apart in my hands, I shouldn’t be surprised. I bring it to my lips for a brief moment, the metal cold against my skin, before pulling out my wallet and tucking the tag and chain safely inside.

  We plan to meet at one of the bars facing the square, and it’s packed. Kids run around with sparklers and play in the fountain. I don’t think we’ll be able to see the fireworks from here, but we’ll probably still be able to hear them if we stay outside. There’s usually live music each night in the summer out here in the square, but not tonight out of deference to the festival and fireworks in City Park.

  “Dave, over here!”

  I turn to find Elijah, Jason, and Dexter sitting around a table outside. Hopefully when the sun goes down, the temperature will drop to bearable. Right now, I’m pretty sure my shirt will be soaked through in less than half an hour.

  “There are no more tables inside,” Jason explains, fanning himself with the beer menu.

  “Dude, you are red. Does it hurt when I do this?” Elijah slaps my shoulder.

  “No, dumbass. I was wearing a t-shirt during the parade too,” I say, slipping onto the bench beside him. Elijah is one of those blessed people with skin that only tans and doesn’t burn.

  “Well then, how about this?” Elijah’s palm goes for my cheeks, but I duck out of the way, narrowly missing the waitress bringing everyone else’s beers to the table.

  “If you made her spill my beer, I would never forgive you.” Jason glares at him.

  The waitress waits long enough for me to pick a beer before rushing off.

  “You scared her away.” Dexter glowers at Elijah.

  “Like you had a chance with her anyway,” Elijah teases back.

  “Where’s your man tonight?” Jason asks me after taking a long drag from his bottle. “Elijah did tell you he was welcome, right?”

  “Stop picking on me,” Elijah whines. “I told him. He said the dude had other plans.”

  When I first came out as bi at the store, about a week after Arthur and I made it official, Elijah pulled me aside.

  “I hope you didn’t wait to tell us because of my jokes. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, if you did.”

  I racked my brain but couldn’t think of any jokes he had made that might have been construed as homophobic.

  “No,” I said, scrunching up my face.

  “Oh, okay. I didn’t want to hear about Craig’s piercing because I didn’t want to think about Craig’s junk. Not because I have a problem with piercings or you know, guys’ junk in general, or guys who like other guys’ junk.”

  I patted Elijah’s head, wondering if this is what it sometimes felt like to deal with me.

  “I’m glad we cleared that up. Thank you. And you’re just fine.”

  “Oh good.” Elijah smiled and that was the end of it.

  Arthur was right on that very first day that we met. Ted does have good taste in employees, and I’ve never felt anything but total acceptance at work.

  “Yes, the dude had to go to his brother’s barbecue in Boulder.” I laugh, poking fun at Elijah’s phrasing.

  “Aww, and you didn’t get invited to meet the family?” Jason teases.

  “Actually, I did. But because Ted loves his parades, I couldn’t go.”

  “Oh, yeah. Well, cheers to avoiding meeting the family,” Jason says, holding up his beer.

  The waitress sets mine in place and immediately retreats, leaving Dexter with a disappointed look. I grab the beer and clink it against Jason’s.

  “Since when do you have to worry about meeting families?” I ask, and Elijah groans.

  “You had to go and ask.”

  For the next hour, Jason talks about this girl he’s been dating and how she wants him to meet her parents. For as long as I can remember knowing them, Jason and Elijah have been single and looking for fun, not a relationship. They are best friends and each other’s wingmen, and with every detail of Jason’s story, I can tell that Elijah feels left out. Jason seems really into the girl but hasn’t ever met a girl’s parents before. Elijah councils him against the meet-up. Repeatedly. And I wonder how much is because he believes it, and how much is just because he hates having to share Jason.

  “You guys are bringing me down,” Dexter says after slamming down his third beer. “And we aren’t picking up anyone here. Let’s move on to Shot in the Dark.”

  There’s a bit of grousing because Elijah doesn’t want to move, and Jason doesn’t think there are ever hot girls at Shot in the Dark, not that he’s looking anymore, and I’m totally fine either way. But eventually, we pay our tab and walk past the square and down a side street to the new location.

  Shot in the Dark is a small, squished bar that has no tables, only the drink bar lining the right-hand wall, and a wall bar with stools for patrons on the left. It’s even more crowded than the bar we were at earlier, but Dexter is insistent, and so we squeeze through until we’re packed in like sardines, three rows back from the bar.

  Dexter immediately finds a target, a woman by herself against the wall, and approaches while we wait to order. By the time we get reach the bartender, he’s been shot down and returns to the group with a pathetic expression, then orders two rounds of cherry bombs and Jell-O shots for all four of us.

  The cherry bombs hit me hard, so we go outside for some air.

  “Are you okay?” Elijah asks as I sway into him.

  “I should have had more food before shots,” I groan, leaning down with my hands braced against my knees. I mentally chastise myself. I’m the grown-up of the group. These three are still in college, but I’m the one who can’t hold my liquor.

  “Hang on,” Jason says, and I watch him cross the street toward a hot dog cart that sometimes sets up on an Old Town corner.

  Slowly, we follow after, and Elijah leaves me sitting on the curb while he joins Jason to get a hot dog. Dexter slumps next to me, sitting on the stubbed-out cigarette I had purposely tried to avoid.

  “Why don’t they like me?” he whines into my shoulder.

  “What did you say to her?” I ask.

  “That she was prettier than Kasumi and more badass than Lara Croft.”

  “Ummm, I think your pick-up lines need work, man. Maybe next time, try comparing them to something other than video game characters?”

  “I find it’s a good way to vet those with complementary interests.”

  I snort so loudly that half the hot dog cart line turns to stare. “I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you are such a nerd.”

  A hot god, I mean dog, appears before my vision. The most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and I devour it.

  “I love you.”<
br />
  “You’re welcome,” Jason says.

  “I was talking to the hot god. I mean dog.”

  This time it’s Elijah that snorts. “Are you going to be okay getting home?” he asks.

  “I’ll be fine. The cherry bombs just hit me hard, but by the time I get to my car, the fresh air and food in my stomach should have taken care of it,” I say, even though I’m touched by his concern.

  As I walk back to my car, the world tilts a little, but I put a hand onto the window of a nearby store, closed because it’s after midnight, and steady myself.

  The alcohol has put me in a reflective mood. I love Jason and Elijah and Dexter. They’re good people. It’s nice that Arthur and I have friends, other friends, and don’t rely solely on each other. That’s what my mom does with my dad, only he doesn’t have the courtesy to do it back. It’s a lopsided, one-sided equation, that shouldn’t have continued as long as it has. If he weren’t a judge and were constantly up for re-election, sort of, I think he would have divorced her by now. I have no idea why she puts up with it, other than she has to.

  Not like me. Arthur and I have a healthy relationship. Even if some people wouldn’t agree that me dressing up like a pup is healthy. Those people can go fuck themselves.

  Arthur.

  Just the thought of him gives me flutters in my belly. My hand subconsciously moves to touch my wallet, just as it has all night whenever I’ve thought of him. If the stupid chain I bought hadn’t broken, I’d be constantly touching the cold metal under my shirt and against my skin instead. I need to stop being such a cheapskate.

  Cheapskate. That’s a funny word. Are skates cheap? That could be dangerous.

  Snortles that are somewhere between giggles and snorts escape through my nose and I’m thankful there’s no one else around to see my drunken idiocy. Unless that someone was Arthur. He can witness my drunken idiocy because I lurve him. Lurve, lurve, lurve.