latermaybe | For Elio

For Elio

As summer drew to a close, the new semester gearing up and the anniversary of my third year in Darrow approaching, I couldn't help but think back on my conversation with Sihyun at Pride. My reaction to the news of his engagement has nagged at the back of my mind since the Spring. Even more so, I was rattled by my later admission that the planning of a wedding, and the stress and attention it would bring, was something I instinctively shrank from.

It made me quiet and contemplative, and while I could hide such things in the first weeks of the semester, I knew now that Elio would've noticed.

So, tonight, I made tea. I bought a box of pastries we both liked. Our dinner was small, intimate, as it usually was. Comfortable. Content. I was happy, and making a change felt unwise, but I knew we were both waiting for the other to do something. Say something.

And it needed to be me.

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Laughing, I agreed, "We both get plenty of that."

He pulled back, his expression sobering, and my smile softened, fingers brushing softly through his hair.

"Fiancé," I teased him, "One step at a time." Kissing his forehead, I added, "You should put that in the vows."

“Okay, okay. Fiancé,” I reply with a warm laugh, letting my hand glide up and down his flank as I stare at him, utterly content. “Baby, I’m gonna write amazing vows. You’ll cry, I bet.”

I grin at him, but the comment is meant to let him know that I don’t see this as a repeat. I don’t plan on recycling any part of our last wedding. This is something new, and we’ll celebrate it as such.

“Hmm, where should we honeymoon?” I drawl out sarcastically. “I hear South Darrow is nice this time of year. Can’t rule out North Darrow, though.”

"I don't doubt that," I admitted, laughing softly as I settled my hand against the side of his neck, our faces so close that our noses were nearly touching.

"Right here. We'll take off a week, and we won't leave this apartment. How does that sound?"

"Okay, that does sound pretty good," I admit, practically giggling with happiness as I press my body against his. I give him a kiss, and then another, losing myself in thought as I lose myself in his lips. Eventually I pull back and let my eyes flutter open, smiling hopefully as I press my hand to his chest.

"Then maybe after that," I begin quietly, biting my lip and moving my fingers to touch his pendant. "We can look for a new place to live together?"

I love our little home above the books, but I think that it's safe to say we've outgrown it.

"You're finally tired of living on top of each other?" I teased him, tracing the curve of his eyebrow with my thumb.

"We could do that," I agreed, tucking his hair behind his ear and kissing the bridge of his nose. "Where were you thinking?"

“No, no,” I reply with a chuckle, smiling warmly as he touches my face. “But you deserve an office, and I deserve a music room. And I want a big jet tub, and a backyard.”

My throat goes a little tight as I think about having this conversation with him before, and our jokes about wanting a tub. He doesn’t remember it, and I will always get a little sad when I think of these things, but it’s easy enough to move past it, especially when he kisses my nose. It reminds me that even though he’s missing some memories, he’s still the same person. My Oliver.

“I did like being out by the lake,” I tell him, kissing his chin as my hand glides up his back. “I liked being out of the city.”

"A backyard, hm?" I mused, giving him a knowing look, "And why might that be?"

We'd spoken briefly about children, but it was more likely that he wanted it to entertain. Still, I could admit to liking the idea of starting a family with him, even if the risks of starting one in this place worried me.

"We're not moving into the same house," I warned playfully. We needed to make this our own, and that meant we couldn't retrace the steps he'd taken with me before, in a life I couldn't remember.

"Parties and outdoor sex, obviously," I reply with a smile, and I shake my head at his adamant warning. As much as I loved that house, and our life in it, I wouldn't want to live there again. We need something new.

"We couldn't even if we wanted to. Steve and Maeve live there now," I remind him, reaching up to card my fingers soothingly through his hair. "It's their turn to be happy there now."

Leaning in, I give him another soft kiss, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. "Every home that I've ever loved has been near the water."

"So, we'll start there," I agreed, smiling into his playful kiss. Chuckling softly, I said, "It has been a while since we've had a grassy hill to roll around on."

Pushing back his hair, I kissed his brow, thinking about warm nights under the stars and sunny afternoons tangled up together. That was something I could definitely get used to.

“And I want you to carry me over the threshold,” I say into the kiss, chuckling as I crawl on top of him, thighs spread and bracketing his hips. “Maybe I’ll get a garter and you can take it off with your teeth.”

I put my hands on his chest and push myself into more of a seated position, then reach up and push my hair back from my face as I stare down at him with an easy smile.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” I tell him, reaching down to trace my fingertip down the side of his face. “And all mine. How’d I get so lucky?”

"Are you planning on wearing a skirt?" I teased, folding my arms behind my head and looking up at him with a playful smirk.

"Your father needed a graduate assistant," I answered offhandedly, barely stifling a grin.

“No, that’ll be for when we’re alone,” I reply with a grin, watching in fascination as he stretches out below me. He looks so good, all flushed and fucked out, relaxed and satisfied. Happy.

“Mm, he asked my opinion, you know,” I say lazily, dragging my fingertips along his hairy chest. It feels like so long ago now, and I suppose it was. “I saw your picture and I think a part of me knew even then. I wanted it to be you so badly.”

"So, I'm lucky that I took a good picture," I laughed, one hand slipping from under my head to settle against his hip.

"If you do decide to wear that skirt," I teased him, trailing my fingertip down his strong thigh, "you've got the legs for it."

“I guess I’m lucky that you’re into awkwardly skinny men,” I reply with a wry smile, tipping my head down to watch his big hand slide up my leg. Once it gets near my hip, I put my hand on top of his and rest it there as his hand moves back down my leg.

“Do you want me to wear a little skirt for you?” My tone is a little playful, like maybe it’s a joke but maybe it isn’t. I’d wear a skirt for him, no problem. Maybe a few years ago, I wouldn’t have entertained the idea, but now? Easy work. “Maybe something plaid and pleated, hm? With knee high socks?”

"I don't know. I think you've filled out," I murmured, serious for half a beat before grinning up at him and adding, "A little."

He wasn't quite the gawky teenage boy I'd met in Italy, but he would likely always be wiry.

Laughing, I said, "You'll be surprised to hear, that's never really done it for me."

“A little,” I allow, smiling warmly down at Oliver. Sometimes I look at myself and hate everything I see, as I assume all people who aren’t lying to themselves do from time to time, but I’m never left it linger in it. Oliver is always there to draw me out of it because he looks at me like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen, and it makes me look at myself through a kinder lens. It can’t be bad, not if Oliver can look at me like that.

“You don’t say?” I bark out a laugh and reach up to slap my hand over my mouth, but it doesn’t really help. I break out into the giggles anyway and have to suck in a breath to compose myself. “I honestly can’t believe that I always thought you were off fucking all the women in B. My gaydar as a teen was straight up trash.”

"Your gaydar," I repeated, laughing delightedly, "Trust me, I had a long time to perfect my cover as a ladies man."

Giving his side a playful pinch, I said, "We certainly got our wires crossed those first few weeks."

The pinch makes me squirm and I grab his hand in both of mine, bringing it up to my face to press kisses to his knuckles. The light catches on my ring and I thumb at his bare ring finger, curls spilling into my face as I tip my head.

“I’m going to get a ring for you, too,” I assure him, nodding to myself and keeping his hand held in one of mine as I lift the other to push the hair out of my face. “You deserve something sparkly, too. And I want everyone to see it.”

Smiling, I rest his hand against my chest, just over my heart. Our last pairs of wedding bands are tucked away in a drawer, one dedicated to trinkets from our past that he doesn’t remember. Some things are still out and on display, but the super personal, sentimental things are tucked away because they’re still special to me, and I know that Oliver understands that.

“And we’ll go pick out bands together,” I tell him, leaning down to kiss him.

"Good," I murmured, my thumb brushing against his bottom lip, my other hand reaching up to tuck an errant curl behind his ear.

"I want that, too." Once, I would've been terrified by the idea of doing anything so public, but now, I craved it. On campus, staff who'd known me before, those who'd known us as a couple, still slipped and called Elio my husband, and while it grated at first, now I longed for it to be true.

Smiling softly, I agreed, "A matched set," meaning both the rings, and ourselves.

Oliver touches my face and I let out a sound like a purr, leaning into it as I shift off of him to lay at his side, draping a leg and an arm over him as I prop my head up on my other hand. I stare at his face with an utterly content expression.

“Does that mean we can take pictures and I can put a sappy announcement on my social media?” I ask with a smirk, tickling lightly at his side.

“A matching set,” I agree, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “A bonded pair.”

"I thought we were keeping it small," I reminded him, laughing. If he wanted a sappy announcement on social media, we both knew I wasn't going to deny him.

"We'll be insufferable, I promise," I said, pulling him down against me, kissing his cheek playfully, practically snuffling behind his ear.

"An announcement isn't an invitation, pesca," I tell him with a laugh of my own. "We can have a small ceremony but everyone is gonna fucking know about it."

He tugs me in close and I grunt as our bodies connect, planting my palms into the bed. His lips tickle my jaw and I giggle, twisting my head away so that my hair fans out over his face. "Are you getting a good whiff?"

"Fair enough," I agreed, grinning against his neck, my arms sliding around him. He giggled, squirming away from my, his hair tickling my nose. I ducked my head to bite at his shoulder, holding him tight.

"I don't know. I think I could probably do better," I teased him, rolling him over onto his back, my lips against the hollow of his throat.

If the bite to my shoulder didn’t send a spark of arousal through me, the way that Oliver so smoothly flips our positions certainly does. My giggle turns into a breathy sigh and I put my hands on his head, fingers carding through his soft hair.

“I don’t remember what we were talking about,” I tell him, laughing softly and tipping my head back as his lips find the sensitive spot on my neck. My mouth falls open at the same time as my thighs, making room for his hips between them. “But keep doing that.”

Laughing, I said, "Invitations? I don't know." Smiling as his knees parted to make room for me, I settled against him, making my way leisurely down the slope of his long neck.

"Announcements. Very. Important. Planning," I said, punctuating each word with another lazy kiss, my lips working their way down his neck and then along the sharp rise of his collar bone.

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