Epilogue
Twenty Years Later
Isaac
The knock on the doorway is soft. “Professor?”
“Come in,” I call, trying my best not to smile.
Trevor strolls into the room, hands tucked into his front pockets, his sweater a light oatmeal color that complements the ink on his skin. He’s biting the corner of his lip, his eyes flitting from me to the engraved metal sign sitting atop my desk.
His fingers trail over it lightly. “Professor Isaac Slade. Looks like this spot is already taken.”
I hum. “I might be willing to share.”
“Is that so,” Trevor says, walking around the desk to where I’m sitting. He spins my chair to the side and tugs me upright before I can protest, not that I would. With me wrapped around him, Trevor turns and sits in the comfy leather.
“I swear to God, if you break another of my chairs—”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” Trevor says, his hand around the back of my neck as he tugs me in.
I don’t bother resisting. The second his lips meet mine, I melt, forgetting about the paper I was grading and the structural integrity of my chair. There’s only Trevor, my husband, kissing me like it’s the first time, not the millionth.
“Do you remember we have an event to attend today?” Trevor asks, his mouth dragging down to my neck.
“I wasn’t going to work long,” I lie.
“Uh-huh. Is the paper even any good?”
“Horrible,” I tell him truthfully.
He chuckles against my skin before hugging me close and inhaling deeply, like he’s breathing me in. “Take a break with me.”
I lay my head against his with a sigh, my eyes tracing the shelves of books lining the walls, so many spines I lost count years ago.
There’s a tufted chair at the opposite end of the room where I like to drink my morning coffee.
A ladder leaning against the tallest shelves behind it.
A luxurious couch in the middle of the space with pillows I’ve buried my face in on multiple occasions.
Fucking me in our home library might be one of Trevor’s favorite things.
Mine, too.
The decor and photos in here are familiar, a lifetime of memories on display.
Including Trevor’s diploma, framed alongside a picture of him and Rafael, his uncle looking proud as can be at his nephew’s graduation.
The furniture is just as loved. This is where I work, yes.
But the library is also where I come to relax.
Where Trevor and I sit together on those evenings when nothing sounds better than reading a good book.
This is my happy place. A dream now realized. The man in my arms my very own wish come true.
“Can you believe it’s been twenty years?” I ask, hardly able to believe it myself. So much time has passed. So much has changed. And so much is exactly the same.
Trevor pulls his face away from my neck, dark eyes meeting mine. The piercings in his nose and ears wink under the lights, his soft smile making my chest constrict. “We were together. I forget the rest.”
My breath puffs out, even as I shake my head. “That’s a common misquote attributed to Whitman. What he actually wrote was, ‘Day by day and night by night’—”
Trevor laughs, his blinding smile making my mouth clamp shut. “I know, Red. But I like this version better. It’s simple. And it’s true.”
I trace my fingers along the side of Trevor’s neck. “All you can see is me?”
He turns his head, lips pressing to my palm. “You’re everything.”
It’s impossible not to kiss him again. “This awards ceremony,” I breathe after a long minute. “Do we really need to go?”
Trevor chuckles. “You don’t have to. But I do.”
I let out as dramatic a sigh as I can manage. “I suppose I can people this once.”
“So charitable of you,” he murmurs. “My prickly little marsh—”
I cover Trevor’s mouth before he can finish that sentence.
We shower and don our best for the porn awards ceremony. I can’t help but stare as Trevor slips a belt through the loops of his tuxedo pants. Dark ink trails up his back and over his shoulders. Down his arms. To his fingertips.
My favorite tattoo is the one centered on his spine, right in the middle of his back and flawlessly integrated into the surrounding designs. He got it a year after we started dating.
It’s a forest, plentiful and wide, the stars above the trees a constellation I immediately recognized as the freckle pattern on my cheeks. I cried when I saw it. The life he saw for us.
Trevor catches my eye as he turns to grab his shirt. “All right, Red?”
I nod easily. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Todd,” I fib.
Trevor doesn’t call me out on the lie, even as his lips quirk. “Is he still coming to visit next month?”
“Yep. Lumi’s tour won’t be over yet, but we figured we could catch up with her in New York this summer. What do you think?”
“A trip to Broadway? I approve.”
“Do you think Raf would want to come?”
Trevor hums. “Possibly. I can ask.”
Rafael is still living above the tattoo shop, despite being semi-retired now. When Trevor earned his first million, he bought the building so his uncle would never have to move. Or pay rent again.
We visit him often, Trevor making his uncle’s favorite home-cooked meals while I try to help.
He’s some of the last family we have now, outside of Todd, Lumi, and Lumi’s partner, Kit.
My dad and I haven’t spoken in well over fifteen years.
And my mom, well… She had a long, well-lived life.
I miss her every day, but we damn well made the most of what we had.
Through it all, I’ve had Trevor. On the good days. The bad. When I’m a mess or forget I’m far too old to chase Todd down the Las Vegas streets when he gets drunk-horny for waffles.
I always, always have Trevor.
“Thinking about Todd again?” the man asks, his tuxedo jacket in place now. He looks so handsome my mouth dries up.
“Actually yes,” I manage, grabbing a bowtie to add to my outfit. One of Trevor’s favorites. “I was thinking about his love affair with waffles. At what point should we stage an intervention?”
Trevor snorts. “Asks the man who begged his husband to run a reverse-train on half a dozen of his co-stars as an anniversary gift.”
My mouth drops open. “Number one, that was a mighty fine anniversary.”
Trevor looks amused.
“Number two, you got great views on that video. You should be thanking me.”
My husband steps closer, his hand on my lower back tugging me flush against his body. “Thank you,” he says in all earnestness before dipping to kiss my lips.
It takes a while before we’re ready to leave the house.
The awards ceremony is at a hotel downtown. It draws quite a crowd every year, cast and crew from multiple porn studios attending. We manage to avoid the reporters as we slip inside, finding a relatively quiet spot in the ballroom to appraise the crowd.
“There’s Bill and Camden,” I point out, my former housemates and now husbands at the bar, grabbing drinks. Bill is still a cameraman for the studio.
“Alex and his boyfriends,” Trevor says, notching his chin their way. A smile tips my lips seeing one of the more boisterous of Trevor’s co-workers hanging off the two men to either side of him.
“Christian and Emil,” I put in, the former wearing a gorgeous floor-length skirt Emil can’t seem to stop staring at. “So many new faces these days.”
Trevor hums his agreement. A lot of cast members have come and gone since Trevor started the studio.
There’s no more Cade, although I hear he has a new parrot.
Mal, another former star, is here with his husband.
Cas is sitting at a table with his boyfriend.
There’s Dixon, who’s retiring soon, next to his boyfriend and co-star Niko. Teddy with his Kipp.
“You’ve built a legacy here,” I tell my husband.
“We have.”
I huff. “This was all you, Mr. Business Major. I was just…”
“With me,” Trevor fills in. “The entire way. It makes this as much yours as it is mine. It’s all of ours.”
I nod, my throat a little tight. “Look,” I say, drawing Trevor’s attention to another pair standing nearby, the two polar opposites in so many ways. “Do you think Jerome will ever get his head out of his ass and tell Nathaniel how he feels?”
Trevor hums, watching the two as I am. Nathaniel has been second-in-command to Jerome for so many years. Light to dark. Argyle to leather.
“He will,” Trevor answers.
“Think so?”
“I know so.”
It’s my turn to hum, my hand squeezing my husband’s as I rest my cheek against his shoulder.
He looks down at me fondly. “You’re awfully cuddly today.”
“I’m always cuddly.”
Trevor booms a laugh that has me smiling in response. “Whatever you say, Red.”
I twine our fingers more securely. “Tell me something honest?”
Trevor’s smile is the same as always. Warm. A little secretive. “I love you eternally. My brat. My Red. My peace. My home.”
And what can I possibly say to that but the truth?
“My love.”
The End