Chris

FYA.

Again I must apologize for the amount of time that’s passed. It’s been four months since the last installment but trust me when I say; the next chapter is the last. RJC.

He dried and went to the guestroom as I looked through my things. It had been so long since I dressed for the eyes of another. I still wore my ring because it stopped women from hitting on me, didn’t wear the clothes that accentuated my body, but not this day.

I opened the top drawer that held the stuff I used to wear, the white case that held his ring, and I took mine off. I twisted it on my finger, had never taken it off before, and I put it in the white case next to his ring and closed it.

I don’t know how long I stood there looking at myself in the mirror? Chris walked up behind my naked ass and looked at the drawer over my shoulder. He picked up the neckless I always used to wear, Gold with a diamond, RJC engraved.

He fastened the clasp, picked the pinky ring I wore on my right hand, never wearing anything next to my wedding band on the left.

He then picked a bracelet that was ounces of gold, fastened it to my wrist, and then a set of cufflinks he set on the dresser. He had such a sober look on his face. “I’ll pick your shit out,” he told me walking into the closet. We loved dressing each other.

“Are you gonna watch me?” I asked.

My mouth was still hanging open when he came out with slacks, a white shirt with French cuffs, and floor shim shoes. “What?” He asked to my open mouth.

“You look fuckin fantastic; you know?” I told him as he laid the stuff on my bed.

“You think I look good; you should taste me.” He said with a big smile. A trade mark of Bobby’s.

He was wearing a bronze silk shirt with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled inward. The pants were tan and hadn’t held such a fine ass and crotch in years. And fuckin high-tops.

Bobby. He could pull off the suit and tie as easily as I could, bling as much as I did, and rocked whatever. When we dressed up, like in suits, he would wear high-tops. Always a wild fucking color. He had a thing for them.

Today they were white, the cuffs of his pants rested above the tongue, and the laces were not tied. As I dressed he picked stuff from my top drawer and threw me a thong from the second.

He studied the red, white, and blue, rings we used to wear under our pants. He twirled the different sizes on his index finger. “These look fun.” He said to me over his shoulder as I adjusted the string in my ass.

Bob and I would wear them when we went out to party, accentuating what we were packing, then wear them to bed when we got home. “It’s still morning, shit might fall off if you wear them till we go to bed.” I told him sitting so I could put my pants on.

“I’ll risk it.” And he undid the five buttons, pulled his junk out; he was going commando now.

He rolled the smallest down his shaft having to hold the head so he could get it all the way to the base. He pushed under his balls pumping blood into his rod that would be held there by the ring. The middle size he stretched and snapped over his balls then adjusted it.

The third, the largest, he put everything in that one and buttoned his pants. I watched him adjust shit around, his shape much more prominent, and he looked at me. “What?” He asked.

I only had one leg in my pants, it was all I could do to look at him because I was smiling so big my eyes were almost closed. His tool hung noticeable to the right, there was hardly enough room for his balls, and with a closer look I could see the outline of the ring.

I pulled the slacks up, zipped and clasped, and reached for the shirt. I buttoned, tucked the bottom, then walked to the belts. After it was threaded I walked to him and held up both wrists.

He took a little time with the cufflinks, looked me in the eyes as he adjusted my shirt, and smiled. “You haven’t looked this good in a long time; tell me I’m wrong?” who will smile first. He won.

He held my left hand, the pinky ring with an embarrassingly large diamond, and the band next was gone. Over half a lifetime had scared me there. We were only sixteen when I put it on.

His hands rested on my chest as he told me I looked fantastic. I checked in the mirror, saw a face I hadn’t in years, and smiled. He was right.

I followed him through the house and he grabbed the keys with the B. “Can we take the TR?” he asked.

“Fine. But we’re not putting the top down.” I told him as he opened the door and the lights came on. How in the hell did he even know???

“Always so…fuckin worried about your hair, Ry.” And he got in on the driver’s side.

You could still smell the leather; the new car smell. He reached up like knowing; the sunglasses. Chris hit the clicker that opened the garage door as well as the gate.

“Where too, navigator?” He asked after the gate closed behind and the road lay in front of us.

“Take a right and get on 99 going north.” I said settling back.

“Can’t we put the top down, Chancellor?” He was in the zone. I never told him our last name.

“Fine.” And he pulled over doing the clamps at the same time. He pushed the top back, got out getting the cover from the trunk, and affixed all the snaps.

Bobby loved the top down; me, not so much. Chris was having a hard time knowing things he shouldn’t; stuff like the sunglasses hanging from the visor, and the cover in the trunk. And our last name. “Can’t believe you let me put the top down.”

I directed him to a large parking lot in front of a nursing home. “Why are we here?” He asked.

We walked in and I smiled at the girl behind the desk. My Mom saw us fill the door and stood, “There’s my boys.” And her arms opened.

My Mom was Forty when she had me and was now 86. She’d been here for a year, dementia, Alzheimer’s, or whatever. We both walked forward. “I have missed you,” she said kissing his neck.

“I’ve missed you too, Mom.” He said with such honesty and his lip quivered.

I should have never done this. She pulled back looking at him, then his shoes, “Tie your shoes, Honey. How many times do I have to tell you?” She asked him.

“Bobby?” She asked.

Yeah, Mom.”

“Are you gonna stay this time?” She questioned.

“Till death do us part.” And her curtain came down.

“Boys? I want you to be careful with all of this,” As she waved her hand around.

“If you break anything I’ll call your company and complain.”

“Yes Mam.” And I looked at Chris.

Sometimes she knew me and others she didn’t. I, or we, were moving men today who would take all her furniture to where-ever. “We’re gonna get a dolly, Mam.” And I motioned to the door with my head.

“Why would you do that to me?” He said over his shoulder at a brisk walk.

I caught up at the car and turned him. “I didn’t need to see her like that. You’re a fuckin ass hole. Why Ry? Why would you do that to me?”

He was crying, I mean like crocodile tears. I pulled him to me, kissed his neck as his head hit my shoulder, and I told him it was ok. “You’re not getting off that easy, Ry.” He said pulling back somewhat composed.

“OK. Get in the car and drive; we won’t talk.” And that’s just what we did. He passed a test of sorts.

We got on the freeway for a bit then headed for the mountains. “Jr? You need to slow down.” And I put my hand on his that rested on the gearshift.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked as we flew by the Way-Side-Chapel.

“On the way back.” I told him. He cruised at eighty till we passed Skykomish.

The turn off was a mile past the falls, a dirt road to the right and he took it without me telling him. It was a service road that went under the tracks to a small dirt parking lot. The pool that was down a path was one Bob and I swam in more than twenty fuckin years ago.

He got out and pulled his shirt. “What are you doing,” I asked?

“I need a dunk.” He told me walking to the pool.

“It’s the wrong time of year, Jr.” But he didn’t stop.

“Chris? Christian, stop. Bobby, stop.” And he did.

“This is the wrong time of year and you know it. The current will pull you down; it’s not like in the summer.” And he walked back to the car.

“I gotta pee.” He announced putting his shirt back on.

“Check and make sure your nuts haven’t turned black.” It seemed like good advice.

I got back in the car and watched him trying to start a steady stream with the rings constricting everything, but he managed. He turned to show me everything was still pink and gave me plenty of time to see.

We headed back down the mountain and slowed at the chapel, he turned the signal on, and pulled up in front. It was small, held twelve, the pews on each side holding two people. It was where Bobby and I married as teenagers.

It wasn’t legal, just the two of us, but we both took our vows seriously. He turned in front of me holding out both hand and I took his in mine. I could hear him in my head reciting what Bobby told me that day.

“Every day with you I learn more about myself and it helps me grow.” Chris was still holding my hands but I felt Bobby’s palm cup my cheek.

“You fill my heart, Jr. If you weren’t in my live right now, I wouldn’t be growing in the same way. Much of what I grow towards has to do with what you give me.” I think I said that in my head.

“A part of you will always be in me, Ryan Chancellor. And part of me will live in you, forever.” And Chris dropped my hands.

He rested his arms over my shoulders and my hands found his waist. “I’m sorry.” And he kissed me.

“Why?” I asked pulling back.

“It was always you, Ryan. I never wanted you to feel what I did when I would leave you. It wasn’t fair.”

“I’m the one who is sorry. You were so strong and never bitter, you knew each time, and me enjoying whatever time we had. You always loved me completely knowing I would die before you. Why would you bring that down on yourself?” I needed to know.

He kissed the tears sliding down my cheeks, looked long at me, and smiled. “You don’t get it. If I only had one day with you in my heart, it would have been worth it. You filled me, made me complete, and made me warm inside.” His mouth didn’t move but I could hear him.

I kissed both his hands and walked back to the car. I couldn’t do this to him again even if he outlived me; which was likely. I enjoyed the day with him and knew it could never be again.

He parked the car, put the sunglasses back in the visor, and hung the keys. We walked in and I went to the bar. I took down one glass and poured a double hoping for strength.

I tried not to sound bitter when he asked about one for him. “You can keep the clothes, but you need to go.”

“You don’t mean that.” He said with an abundance of confidence.

“I do. Forget this day ever happened and live a long happy life, Christian.” And I walked to the door opening it and pointed at his truck.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Ry?” And I nodded as he walked out.

The truth was I wanted him with me till I took my last breath, the two of us sharing what time took from us over and over. I walked to the bedroom and took off all the gold then opened the box putting my ring back on.

I don’t know who I was apologizing to, maybe Bobby because I took my wedding band off, maybe Chris because I didn’t want to push him away; or maybe I was apologizing to myself.

You know when you get that feeling, someone watching you, I slowly opened the second drawer. “It’s not there. I moved it a drawer down this morning.”

I turned, “How did you get in?” I asked.

“How I always get in.”

“What are you talking about? Show me how you got in.”

“You’re funny, Ryan.” And he looked different. He was the same but was different in a way.

“Chris?” And he looked over his shoulder.

“Who are you talking to?” He asked turning back to me.

“How did you get in here?”

“Now you’re just being silly, Ry.”

“Show me.” I demanded, and he walked out.

I followed him up the hall and to the front door, onto the porch, and closed the door behind me. He put his thumb on the pad and the door opened. I pulled it closed, “Do that again.” And he did.

FYA:

Like I said; the next chapter will be putting another to rest. I’m wrapping things up. ‘The Bug’, will be the next. ‘Taking a Hard Right’, will follow. And let’s not forget, ‘One little Thing’.

RJC.