His Personal (Lover) Assistant

It’s like a dance. His body is moving in sync with mine, his lips are cast over mine. And they’re drugging, making my eyes shut tightly, and my mind feels foggy and scattered, like I’m not completely there, as he continued to kiss me.

And his hands were running over every inch of me, lightly and possessively all at the same time, as though to say that I’m his forever-more, and no one else’s. But not in a bad way. Never in a bad way, I should think. His lips met my chest and trailed downwards before coming back up, and I sighed again, threading my fingers through his hair.

“I love you,” he whispered. Again with the drug-like feeling, as his lips touched mine. I thought someone might have sprinkled ecstasy over them before letting me touch them, so I could feel this way every time. Like something was dragging me down under, but in a pleasant way.

Nothing was between us, nothing was stopping us from going the entire way, no clothes were in the way, no tension or anger, frustration or confusion. We could have done it, and we didn’t. We just gave each other drugging kisses that weighed us down until we fell asleep at some odd 2 in the morning.

I woke up in the morning and threw the covers back, kissing his lips again, before pulling clothes on and walking into the kitchen. In the midst of making coffee he walked out and wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing my neck. I smiled and turned around. My arms found their way around his neck magically. “Work?” I murmured.

“I just called off,” he mumbled back, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around my waist as he waited for the coffee to finish up. We began moving around, still entangled in one another. It was almost like a slow dance – except a bit clumsier and confused, since it was earlier in the morning and we were both without coffee. We just floated over the kitchen tiles as one, occasionally planting kisses on the other’s neck.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered, placing a kiss on my forehead this time. His caramel eyes shined with something I wasn’t sure of as I looked up, confused.

“Why not?”

“Because…because you’re something special. If I let go of you, I might not get to hold on again, and I don’t want that to happen – not anymore.” We moved across the kitchen to the coffee maker, where I untangled my arms from his neck momentarily to unplug the coffee maker. I wrapped them back around without even getting coffee suddenly more awake than before.

“This is not who you are,” I chuckled, shaking my head. He looked blank. “You’re not some sappy kind of romantic guy, usually,” I continued. “It’s strange to hear it coming from you – as much as it is nice.”

He groaned, “You make it so difficult to be serious, Frank.”

“Great tension-breaker,” I smirked, and we continued to move around the kitchen, my head resting on his chest, as he hummed something.

And for that moment, even though we still had talking and sorting out to do, it was perfect, still.

We talked. We spent hours pouring over what to do, what we were, if things could work out. We looked into the future, and we thought about the pros and cons of everything possible. It was obvious, however, that neither of us wanted to be without the other.

Later on, with still no certain answer to what was in the future, I curled up against him on my couch, sighing. “Ger?”

“Mm?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t think about the future.” He sat up a bit and looked at me.

“We’ve done that before.”

I think it was meant sarcastically. I took a deep breath, “I know, but… here’s the thing. Nothing can work out the way we planned it anyways, you know? Just like us being apart didn’t work out, and us being together while… you were with… you know, Sophia didn’t work out. Maybe if we just let it go – just not worry about it.”

He stayed silent for a bit, before wrapping his arms back around me, and kissing the top of my head. “I do love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I only want the best – if I’m not the best – because I’m certainly not deserving – I want to know now.”

“You’re more than the best, you’re a lifeline,” I whispered. “And so much more, and you’re deserving of anything you want, Gerard.”

He was silent for a minute more, before speaking up. This time his eyes held determination, care, and love, as he looked down at me. “Think of all we’ve been through,” he chuckled. “All the shit we’ve put up with from each other. All the snarls and growls, the anger and confusion, and the fighting. And here we are, sitting in a dark living room, talking about our future, together.”

I mused for a moment, sitting up and crossing my legs, staring at the wall in front of me, my chin resting underneath my palm lightly. “I think,” I said slowly, my lips curling upwards, “that maybe that’s your fault.”

He stared at me blankly, like I’d just spoken in a fluent – almost unheard of – language. “My fault?”

“Yeah,” I nodded enthusiastically.

“Do explain.”

“Well, if you’d have never hired me, then I’d have never hated you –“

“You hated me?”

“-And I’d have never fucked you. And then I’d have never fallen for you. And then we’d never be sitting here. It all leads back to you, can’t you see?” I asked, laughing a bit. He shook his head.

“You really hated me?”

“…A love/hate kind of thing,” I shrugged. “It’s just that…you came across as totally arrogant and egotistic, you know? But then I could look into your eyes and I’d see some kind of shell. Like you were a little boy in a big guy’s body, or something…”

“That sounds strange,” he mused, as he processed my last few sentences, before crawling over to my side of the couch and resting his head on my lap. I played with his hair while he closed his eyes.

The sound of breathing filled the room and comforted me. Five minutes later, his eyes snapped back open, and his dusty pink lips wound up in a grin, his tiny teeth stained by nicotine showing. “This makes me happy.”

“What?”

“Us.”

“Haven’t we had this discussion before?” I giggled. He sat up and wrapped his legs around either side of me, kissing my ear, then trailing his lips down to my neck. His hand floated up my sides carefully, reaching my face and tilting it up to the ceiling so he had better access. His tongue darted out to the sensitive skin and sent chills running down my spine romantically.

His hands ran back down my sides and touched the hem of my shirt, as he moved his lips up my neck, along my jaw, and finally placed them right over my own lips, caressing them. He tugged my shirt off slowly, then pulled back, grinning.

“I’m not doing this on the couch,” he murmured, pulling me up and leading me to my room.

“Who said I was doing it at all?” I questioned, arching an eyebrow. He choked, and turned to look at me. I giggled, before he pushed me down onto the bed. His kiss left my mind in a haze, only searching out one thing – more of his taste, more of his feel.

This time it was slower – it wasn’t some useless thing, something that happened in anger, or something that happened when he wasn’t happy with his wife. This time it was pure emotion and love, something I’ve never found before in a guy.

This time it was special. We weren’t thinking about the future, what could happen later on, what we would do six months from now, where we would be. We were just focusing on touch, taste, love, pleasure.

This time there were no secrets and lies, and while there were things that needed talking about, we forgot them for just a few hours, and focused on the bodies sliding together, and the sounds that filled the room.

Laying next to him later, I knew that everything would be okay, and the future wouldn’t be a problem. Love was relentless, and with him, it could be tough, but we were willing, and that was what mattered in the moment.

Did you ever get the feeling your life was a movie? That this was just one scene in the dramatic love story? Did you ever get that feeling that this was your fairytale – the one you were finally living, after so long?

That you had your Prince Charming, and it was up to you how the story ended? You could get married, or you could run off into the sunset, or you could just sit there and relish in the fact that you had everything you could ever want.

But every movie has to end, right? So maybe this was the ending. Or maybe it was the beginning of the sequel. But for now, I was just happy with focusing on his every detail, the curve of his jaw, the way his smile went crooked as he entered Dreamland - all of it.

End or beginning, I was just happy to have him by my side.

…Ainsley made her way out to the car, Mikey following. “God, you guys take forever,” I murmured, pulling out.

“We were trying to avoid the kissy faces you and Gerard were making inside,” she muttered back, clicking her seatbelt as I pulled out of the Way’s drive and made my way onto the interstate. “It gets annoying.”

“Shut up. What’s mom’s new address, again?” I questioned, as Gerard hung the phone up. He repeated it to me, rolling his eyes and mumbling about my memory was about as good as a goldfish’s. I retorted, telling him to shut up.

“Focus on the road!” Ainsley snapped, reaching up between the seat and turning the volume up. Her ring sparkled in the sunlight, and I smiled, happy that she was happy. She leaned back into Mikey, and he kissed her forehead.

Of course, he was a bit older than her, and Dad had a lot of adjusting to do, but, in the end, five years later, it was all for the best. She was happy, Dad was happy, still married, and enjoying his job. Mom was living in an apartment, a successful part-time job while she went to night school.

“You know, I don’t know why you want everyone to wear tuxedos,” Mikey groaned, as Gerard talked to the wedding planner, who you could clearly hear ranting about the tuxedo fitting that was supposed to happen on Tuesday.

“It makes for a nice wedding,” I frowned. “And that was the deal. Gerard wanted tuxedos, and I wanted an ice sculpture.”

“Fair trade,” Mikey retorted sarcastically.

“Well, I thought the ice sculptures were cool, Gerard didn’t,” I muttered, pulling into my mom’s drive. She was standing on the porch waving around invitation designs and shouting about how we had to get them sent out as I shut the car door. Gerard hung the phone up and walked into the house while I tried to talk her down.

“Mom – chill.” She continued her rant as she walked into the house, and I turned back around to watch the sun set. Gerard came out and wrapped his arms around me, kissing the side of my face.

“Just a few months,” he sighed happily.

“You won’t ever regret it?” I asked, curling my fingers into his.

“Never,” he promised.

“Do you think this is the end of our movie?” I asked him quietly.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I really don’t. But I wouldn’t mind if it was.”

“Me either,” I smiled again, and we watched as the clock hit 8.01, and the sun fell into a blanket of darkness and moonlight.