Chapter Thirty-Four Ho Ho Ho
I woke to the sound of his phone buzzing. He sat up in bed and checked it. He never got messages on his phone unless they were about work.
“What is it?” I said.
“Callback. They want me to audition for them on the twentieth.”
“That’s when we’re flying to Timmins. I booked our tickets.” I sat up in bed.
“Craig, I can’t miss this. I think they’re gonna offer me a part.”
“So you don’t want to come to Timmins with me?”
“I do, but I have to do this audition. Can you rebook our tickets? Stay with me here, then we can fly out together.”
“I don’t know if I can change the date.”
“Look, give me the details, and I’ll try and rebook them for us.”
“I’ll do it,” I said. He wasn’t too good at that kind of thing.
He didn’t argue, so while he was in the shower, I started making calls.
I was sweating. My parents would not be happy.
Knowing them, they had every minute of our visit planned: decorating the tree, the Christmas concert, visiting their friends, shopping, ice skating.
This would disrupt their schedule, and they would not let me forget that.
In the end, it took me two hours, and I had to pay extra, but I got our tickets changed. Then I emailed my parents with the bad news. I opted to take one for the team and told my parents we’d be arriving a day later because something had come up at my work. I didn’t want them blaming Eddie.
I clicked send and looked at him. “If the show wants to see you again before Christmas, fuck them.”
––––––––
In case his audition went badly and spoiled his mood, we decided to exchange our Christmas gifts the day before, make an evening of it and go out for dinner. Work hadn’t been busy, which was good because I’d had time to work on his Christmas present.
I got home from work that evening, gave him a kiss, and went to the bedroom to change into the jeans he liked and what he called my “hot fleece,” because he liked unzipping it.
But as soon as I got into the bedroom, I stopped dead. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It took up most of the wall by the bed.
It was a framed poster of me, in black and white, wearing my tap shoes. Must have been from our photoshoot.
“Are you kidding me?” I said.
He was standing in the bedroom doorway, blinking. “What?”
“Don’t give me that innocent look. What the hell is this?”
“It’s a poster of you,” he said.
“I know what it is. What’s it doing there?”
“You said I could put whatever I want on the wall, since it’s our bedroom, and I’ll need something to jerk off to when you’re out late dancing, won’t I?”
“Fuck. You know I’m not comfortable with how I look. How am I supposed to fuck you when there’s a poster of me on the wall?”
“You don’t have to look at it while we’re fucking.”
“It’s hard not to, Eddie. It’s enormous.”
“Guess you’ll have to fuck me with your back to it, huh? I’ve got no objection to fucking you with your back to me.”
I didn’t want to look at it anymore, and I didn’t want to start a fight by taking it down. Tonight was supposed to be about us enjoying ourselves.
I exhaled through my teeth. “Get your coat. I’ll call an Uber.”
“Let’s walk.”
I didn’t know if he wanted to save money or what. As soon as we were outside, he took my hand. He was being discreet, since it was dark out. I didn’t know if it was on my account or if he was normally discreet.
When we got to the restaurant, it wasn’t crowded, and he asked for a booth at the back—a round table with windows on either side, but nice and dim, with little glass-covered light fixtures glowing yellow. I slid into the booth, and he slid in right beside me and put his arm around me.
We ordered, and while we were waiting for the food, he casually pulled a small wrapped package out of his jacket and put it on the table in front of me.
“Merry Christmas, you sexy motherfucker.”
I unwrapped it. “Sunglasses. Thanks.” Not what I was expecting.
“Put them on.”
“We’re inside, Eddie.”
“Put them on for me.”
I did. Instantly, the restaurant looked dimmer. “How do I look? Like a pretentious asshat? Like I should be calling my agent and ordering a double mocha latte or whatever?”
“You look hot.” He leaned in close, and I felt his breath in my ear. “I could do you right here.”
I laughed, because this wasn’t a situation I wanted to be turned on in, but, well.
He pulled a second wrapped package out of his coat and handed it to me.
I unwrapped a braided leather bracelet, with green, black, and gold straps. “This is really nice. Did you make it?”
“Girl at the store helped me. Let me put it on you.”
I gave him my left wrist, and he wound the bracelet around it and fastened the clasp. Watching and feeling him do that to me was hot. I was sorry when he let me go.
“I used to wear a bracelet for luck when I competed in tap. I lost it a few years ago.”
“I know. I saw it on your tap DVD.”
Of course he’d noticed. He didn’t miss much.
It felt perfect on my wrist, heavy enough to notice but not heavy enough to weigh my arm down. “It’s great. Thanks, Eddie.”
“Where’s my present?” he said.
“I can’t give it to you till we’re home.”
“You left it behind?” he said.
“No.”
“Did you wrap it?”
“It’s not something you can wrap.”
He smiled slyly. “Is it a blow job?”
I laughed. “It’s not a sex thing. You’ll see.” I hoped he’d like it and wouldn’t think it was cheesy.
We finished our meal and walked home, arms around each other, and fuck discretion. Anyway, it was dark, so it was easier to pretend we were alone. I had to take the sunglasses off because I couldn’t see. After we got back to the apartment, I took one of his presents out of my backpack.
“This first.”
It was a T-shirt with Orange Crush printed across the front.
“Is it too on the nose?” I felt like I had to apologize, though it looked amazing on him.
“Thanks. Why couldn’t you give this to me at the restaurant?”
“That’s not your real present.” I took hold of him by his shoulders, sat him on the couch, and kissed his forehead. “Stay there.”
I brought out my keyboards and set up in front of him. I hadn’t been able to practice at home, or it would have spoiled the surprise, and I’d had to use the old piano in the basement of my building at work.
“You’re giving me your keyboards?” he said.
“No. I wrote a song for you.”
I started playing, watching him the whole time. Then I sang to him. He’d said he liked my singing voice, so I figured he’d like that.
He had such a poker face that I couldn’t tell what he thought. He reminded me of the tap competition judges who never gave away if I was last place or first.
I sang the last line, the one I’d been trying to get right forever:
You have a country inside you, and I want to walk in it always.
I played the last chord.
He didn’t say anything.
“Was it okay, honey kid?”
“Yeah,” he said, and his voice cracked. He blinked. “It was...thanks.”
“I know it’s rough, and I didn’t practice it enough, and it’s not that great and—”
“Let’s fuck,” he said.
I guess he liked it.
––––––––
On the day of his audition, I made him a hot breakfast. If I was auditioning, I wouldn’t be able to eat anything, but he never turned down food.
I guess going hungry so often did that to you.
We didn’t have sex that morning, because he wanted to hold off so he’d be keyed up for his audition, hoping it would boost his performance.
We were opposites that way. I didn’t eat when I wasn’t hungry, because I knew there’d always be food when I got hungry.
But with sex, I’d spent so long wanting it and not being able to have it that I didn’t turn down sex when I could have it.
I guess, because he’d been in a relationship ever since he was a teenager, he didn’t mind waiting.
He didn’t want me to go to the venue with him, because he said he needed to focus, but he told me to meet him when he was done.
So I practiced my tap for a couple hours before having a shower.
Our flight was the next morning, so I spent the rest of the day doing laundry and cleaning the apartment to burn off my excess energy.
Something was bugging me. I wasn’t sure if I was worrying he wouldn’t get the part or worrying he would or worrying what my parents would think if he did, and they saw him naked on TV.
At two o’clock, I headed downtown. I arrived way too early and had to wait outside the building where he was auditioning.
And he was late. I started to worry that something bad had happened.
But then he came out the doors, looking dazed.
He stopped walking and just stood there, staring off into space.
“Are you okay? You look like you walked into a wall.”
He blinked. “That’s what it felt like.”
He looked at his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to find out about someone.”
“Who?”
He didn’t look up. “I can’t tell you. I’m not supposed to say anything till they announce who’s been cast.”
“How did your audition go?”
“Fucking amazing. Then fucking horrible.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I read with one person, and it was unbelievable. I’ve never clicked with anyone like that before. It was magic. Then I read with someone else, and it was so bad I wouldn’t have cast me. And the second person is a huge star.”
“Who is it?”
“I can’t tell you, but you’ve heard of her. She’s a big enough name they’re not going to pick me over her. But that first guy I read with...fuck. I’ve never acted that well in my life. So I dunno what to think.”
Suddenly, I wanted him.
I put my arm around him. “Let’s take an Uber home.”
“You in a hurry?”
“Yeah, actually. Aren’t you?”
“I’m kinda thrown after those auditions,” he said.
“I can take your mind off that.” I leaned in close. “I really want to kiss you right now. You look like a lost little boy.”
“I feel like a lost little boy.”
“Then come home with me, and let me take care of you.”
I called an Uber, and we arrived at our building in twenty minutes. Less than a minute later, we were making out hard in the elevator. I had him pushed into the corner, pressing against him.
“You gonna make it to the apartment?” he said.
“I wanna make it right here.”
The elevator pinged, and we pulled apart as the doors opened.
I was about to go out, but he grabbed my coat sleeve, and I realized we were only on the seventh floor.
Then this elderly woman got in. I looked at Eddie over her head as the elevator went up.
His eyebrows bobbed at me, and he pulled his coat closed.
The lady got off on the ninth floor. At the tenth floor, when the elevator doors opened, we raced up the hallway.
When we got to the apartment door, I piled into him and pinned him.
“Porter checks McCreevy into the boards,” I said.
We laughed breathlessly. Then I pressed up against him from behind and held him by the collar of his coat.
“Are you carrying any dangerous weapons, sir?” I said.
“Just my dick, officer.”
I moved my hand down until I felt him, and he gasped. “I’m gonna fuck you right here.”
He pressed his ass against me. “Dare you.”
I never backed down from a challenge. I bore down on him, pressing him against the door. “How d’you like that?”
“That all you got?” He arched back against me.
He had this effect on me. He always had, but this time, it was so strong, and it came over me in a rush. I thrust against him, shoving him against the door. I didn’t care that we were in the hallway. I didn’t care if anyone caught us. I wanted him too much to stop.
He pushed back against me, flexing his hips, and I held him and surged against him harder and harder till his shoulder was thudding against the door.
“I’m fucking doing you in the hallway, Eddie.” I froze. “Fuck,” I gasped in his ear. “I’m gonna shoot.” I couldn’t stop it at that point.
I fell against him and the door, feeling like someone had punched the air out of my lungs. And he was a star, got the door unlocked and opened and pulled me inside, holding me up pretty much, while he kicked the door shut behind us, then eased me back against it.
“Holy shit,” I said, when I could finally talk.
“You okay, tapper?”
“I shot myself in the fucking hallway. I can’t believe I did that. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” God, I was pathetic.
“What can I do, tapper?” he said.
“Be less sexy?”
“Hey,” he said softly. He pulled me into a hug and held onto me.
“Eddie, I’m a hot mess.”
“You’re a hot, sexy mess, tapper.” He slid his hands under my coat, around my waist, then he kissed me.
I held onto him and kissed him back.
“We were pretty much doing it in the elevator till that old lady came in,” he said.
“Yeah, you made me want you so much right outside the fucking door. You want me to do something for you?”
“I want to keep making out with you with our coats on.”
“And?”
“That’s all.”
He kissed me again, and we stood still, holding each other. The kissing got deeper, more intense.
“Wherever we go for our honeymoon, I wanna be able to do this all the time,” I said.
“Mmm.”
I was getting uncomfortable, so I pulled back. “I gotta have a shower.”
“You want company?”
“I would love that.”
We didn’t let go of each other all the way to the bathroom, where we undressed each other, got into the shower, and I returned the favor.
––––––––
I stayed up late making sure we’d packed everything for the trip. I already had a tap board at my parents’ place (if they hadn’t thrown it away), but I had a bunch of other stuff to bring. I didn’t know why I was so nervous. Not a good nervous either. A sick nervous.
By the time I went to bed, I figured he must be asleep, so I got under the covers carefully, trying not to wake him. Only he wasn’t asleep.
“Tapper?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we gonna be able to fuck at your parents’ place?”
“I don’t know. They might put us in separate bedrooms ’cause we’re not married.” And because my mom still treated me like I was six.
“I can’t go ten days without fucking you,” he said.
“I can’t either. We’ll figure something out.” I squeezed him and kissed him behind his ear. “Night, honey kid.”
“Night, tapper.”
––––––––
I didn’t sleep well. As soon as it was light outside, I got up and made us breakfast. We caught an Uber to the Island airport and boarded our plane shortly after.
He was really excited because he’d never flown in a plane before.
He asked for the window seat. Like I was gonna deny him that experience, but I wasn’t being completely unselfish.
I hated flying in small planes, and the less I could see outside, the better.
I didn’t want to admit it and seem like a wuss, but he figured it out pretty quick once we were airborne. Then he decided to crack jokes.
“There’s no holy shit handle for you to grab onto,” he said. “You’ll have to settle for me.” He took my hand and squeezed it.
“I’d feel better if I was flying the plane.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“I keep picturing us crashing.”
“Put your AirPods in and shut your eyes.”
It was a two-hour flight, and I was freaking out the whole time. Whenever we hit turbulence, I squeezed his hand so tight it must have hurt him. But he didn’t complain.