The Honeymoon's Not Over

The bedroom door hinges squealed as a crack of light poured in from the outside hallway, casting a beam across the shape cocooned within the red blankets of the queen sized mattress. The figure enveloped within the blankets was long and slender; a close-trimmed head of brown hair and matching beard rested on the pillow, while a colorful sleeve of tattoos snaked around his left arm from wrist to shoulder. A black Labrador trotted inside first, the tags on his collar jingling and the pants of his breath ringing heavy in the silent room. 

The second figure to enter the room did so cautiously, feeling along the beige wall for a light switch while holding a tall glass of water in his free hand. Finally, the searching hand found the switch, and bright light blossomed from the overhead ceiling fan. The new entry, a man draped in a light blue dress shirt with white briefs visible above a pair of tanned legs, stepped into the bedroom with his free hand outstretched before him. Each step was slow, calculated, and methodical; the black lab sat by the bed, tongue flapping and tail wagging in steady rhythm. The cautious man made his way to the bedside table, muttering to himself as his thigh brushed against the edge, and lowered the glass until the bottom struck the wooden surface. Searching hands grasped and patted over to the blankets, feeling the warmth of the shape beneath them, and traveled up until touching the bare flesh of a shoulder.

“Roddy,” the man said. “Roddy, wake up.”

The hands gave a gentle shake, and the blanketed shape began to stir; bright, green eyes cracked open and stared up at the partially dressed figure looming overhead.

“Hmm?” asked the sleeping man. “Tom? Baby, what time is it?”

“7:30,” replied the other. “You’ve got half an hour before we need to be at the station.”

Roddy smacked his lips, his mouth dry and lips heavy; he saw the glass of water on the bedside table, then grabbed it and took a deep drink.

“I’ve already had my shower and everything,” Tom added.

The water glass, now half drained, returned to its spot.

“Why didn’t you wake me before now?” Roddy asked.

Tom shrugged.

“I didn’t try,” he said. “Figured you couldn’t hear me over that buzzsaw-through-steel sound you call snoring.”

Roddy sat up, the bedsheets falling from his broad and bare chest, and rubbed at his eyes with two fists.

“I feel like shit,” he declared. “I thought naps were supposed to be good for you.”

Tom carefully backed away from the bed; the black lab bounced up, his front paws now resting against the shape of Roddy’s legs under the blankets.

“Hey there, Barby.”

Roddy’s hands cradled the dog’s head, scratching behind his ears in an unconscious gesture as Barby’s panting continued.

“Come on,” Tom urged. “I need your help anyway.”

“What’s up?”

“I can’t find the toothpaste.”

“What?” Roddy asked. “It’s not in the usual spot?”

“Nope.”

“I swear I put it there this morning.”

“Didn’t find it.”

“How can that be?”

Tom shrugged.

“You were the last person to use it,” he replied. “If it wasn’t me, and it wasn’t you, then there’s only two people it could be.”

Barby, still partly perched, glanced between his two owners; the sparkle in his deep, dark eyes never faded. Roddy fanned his fingers in front of his face.

“Barby’s definitely not brushed lately,” he remarked.

“Then there’s only one person left.”

Tom cupped one hand around the right side of his mouth and yelled into the living room:

“Alexa, what did you do with the toothpaste?”

A chirping sound, then a pause before:

“There are three stores nearby that sell toothpaste, should I add it to your list?”

Tom scoffed.

“She’s no help at all.”

“I’ll find it,” Roddy replied. “Just give me a minute.”

“No longer, or we’ll be late.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Roddy moved his hands away from Barby as he stretched high into the air and yawned.

“Maybe I should drink some coffee before we leave.”

“We can stop at that coffee place in Flatbush, right across from the station.”

“What’s with the rush?” Roddy asked. “What’s happening tonight that’s got you in a hurry to be there?”

“You don’t remember?” Tom questioned.

Roddy sat still and silent, then shrugged.

“Ollie’s birthday party? We’re meeting him and Shane, some of their friends, and hitting up that club near Coney Island?”

The man in bed groaned, then fell onto his right side and buried his face in the pillow.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Right. In that case, I’ll take my time.”

Tom let out a surprised yelp.

“Roderick Hayes!” He exclaimed. “Don’t you dare go back to sleep on me!”

Roddy remained still.

“Fine then, have it your way.”

Barby dropped back to the floor as Tom inched his way to the bed, felt the edge of the blankets, and pulled with all of his might; the bedsheets whisked away, and Roddy cried out as the cold air touched every inch of his bare skin.

“Whoa,” Tom said. “Roddy, are you naked right now?”

“Certainly seems that way,” the bemused sleeper replied.

“Since when do you sleep naked?”

“Since I changed out of my scrubs and passed out, that’s when.”

Tom put his hands on his hips.

“Did you use my cocoa butter this morning?” he asked.

“A little,” Roddy replied.

“Smells like a lot to me.”

Roddy then sat up on the bed, his legs swiveling around and touching the chilled hardwood floor.

“Okay,” he groaned. “Okay, I’m up. I’ll find the toothpaste and then get in the shower.”

Tom crossed his arms and smirked.

“Thank you.”

Roddy slowly rose from the mattress and took trundling steps past Tom, across the corridor leading into their living room, and into the steamy confines of their stark white bathroom. Upon reaching the sink, the space near the cup of toothbrushes was notably empty. Roddy opened drawer after drawer below the sink, finding hair brushes and their concealed hair dryer, but no toothpaste. As Barby’s claws clacked against the bathroom tile, the wayward tube finally appeared behind a row of colognes and moisturizing lotions.

“Ah,” Roddy muttered. “Found it.”

Immediately, the toothpaste landed next to the cup of toothbrushes.

“There, all yours.”

 Tom took careful steps to the sink and, upon arrival, reached right for the toothpaste. Roddy removed a toothbrush, a plain white one, from the cup and tapped Tom’s right shoulder with it.

“Here.”

“Thank you,” Tom replied, taking the toothbrush.

Roddy stepped back out into the hall, brushing past Tom as he carefully popped the cap on the toothpaste and lowered the nozzle flat against his toothbrush’s bristles. A pea-shape of blue gel welled on top, and the tube was returned to its rightful spot. Outside in the hall, the door of the linen closet opened and closed; Roddy returned to the bathroom with a bright blue towel and matching washcloth in hand. Tom, focused on the rustling sounds of his brushing, felt a blossom of heat as Roddy passed behind him. After that brief moment of contact, a ragged sigh escaped from the other man.

Tom immediately spat his toothpaste into the sink.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Roddy replied. The blue towel was draped over the handle of the glass shower door.

“I know that sigh, Roddy, something’s bothering you.”

“It’s nothing.”

Tom grasped the faucet knobs and collected water in his cupped hand, swished it a few times, and spat again.

“Don’t give me that,” he snapped. “You’re acting like you don’t want to go out tonight.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

Roddy turned the knobs of the shower, and the pipes within the walls churned before a cold jet of water rocketed out from the head.

“Why not?” Tom asked. “You’ve been just as eager for tonight as me, until now.”

“Aren’t I allowed to change my mind?”

“Of course you are, it’s just-…surprising, that’s all.”

The man in question stuck his hand under the now steaming jet of water, and closed the shower door behind him.

“We always have a good time with Ollie and Shane, so why don’t you want to go?”

“No reason,” Roddy replied, his voice echoing against the shower walls. “Just tired from work.”

Barby’s claws clacked a path behind Tom and then stopped; the man at the sink felt warm, coarse fur at the bends of his knees.

“That’s not it,” the man at the sink stated.

“Who says?” Roddy asked.

“You do, I can hear it in your voice. You’re not telling me something.”

“Tom-.”

“Roddy.”

“It’s nothing, forget about it.”

Tom returned his toothbrush to the cup, then followed an invisible beeline to the shower door, and pulled it upon as Roddy lathered body wash across his broad chest; notes of vanilla and honey graced Tom’s nose with each breath.

“Don’t make me turn on the cold water,” he warned.

Roddy rolled his eyes.

“Unless you’re going to hop in and give me a hand, babe, I prefer this door to be closed. So, excuse me-.”

Roddy reached forward and pulled the shower door closed once more. Tom remained standing in place, arms crossing across his chest, and then gave a nod.

“Ah,” he stated. “I see what this is about.”

Roddy remained silent, the glass of the shower door fogging as Tom turned on his heel and headed back for the sink.

“I should have seen it before.”

“Seen what?”

“Your reason for not wanting to go.”

More silence from the shower.

“You’re jealous.”

“What?” came in response.

“You heard me,” Tom insisted. “You’re jealous of Ollie, Shane, and what they have together.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“There’s no shame in admitting it, Roddy.”

“Why would I admit something that’s not true?”

Tom leaned against the sink, unseeing eyes staring ahead at their own reflection.

“They’ve been together over 10 years, and they’re still in the honeymoon phase. They haven’t had to endure what other couples around them have, like-...well, like us.”

“You don’t think we’re in the honeymoon phase anymore?”

Tom shrugged.

“We’ve been through too much,” he replied. “Too much since all of this started with me.”

Roddy sputtered in the shower, a booming noise in the confined space.

“The honeymoon isn’t everything,” he replied. “Trust me.”

“Then why be jealous of Ollie and Shane?”

“I never said I was- you said that.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes.”

The wall pipes fell silent, and the roar of the showerhead jet died. Roddy’s wet, glistening arm peeked out from the shower door and snatched the blue towel off of the handle.

“Other people may envy what they have, Tom, but not me. I know full well whatever happiness people see is only on the outside..”

“You think they just act happy together?.”

The glass door slid open, and Roddy stepped out onto the floor mat as his face disappeared behind the ruffling blue towel.

“You have no idea just how much acting is involved between those two,” he remarked as the towel slid up and down his chest and stomach.

“What do you mean?”

Roddy paused mid-action, eyes suddenly wide.

“Nothing,” he claimed. “Forget I said that.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“About what?”

“Forget it, Tom.”

Roddy dried his legs, then wadded his towel into a ball and pitched it toward Tom, who turned and caught it in mid-air. As Tom tossed the damp cloth to the floor, the look on his face became solemn, like he was in mourning.

“About what, Roddy?”

Roddy moved to pass his partner, but Tom blocked the bathroom doorway with his full body.

“Do you mind, babe?” he asked. “Hard to get dressed when my clothes are all across the hall.”

“Tell me what you meant by that first.”

“I said to forget it.”

“I’m not moving.”

“Then I guess I’ll go to the club naked.”

“Who says we’re going now?”

“What’s up with you?” Roddy asked. “You get on my case so we don’t run late, and now you’re not wanting to go at all?”

“Not until you explain to me why you’re acting like this.” A pause. “Does it have anything to do with Shane and Ollie?”

“Yes, but I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wasn’t supposed to know in the first place.”

Tom remained blocking the door, still and staring at Roddy with glassy eyes. Finally, Roddy exhaled sharply.

“I don’t want to get you involved in this, babe. It’s a mess waiting to happen.”

“Too late,” Tom replied. “Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Then tell me something. Surely you can do that, can’t you?”

Roddy remained silent.

“Or do you not trust me?”

Further silence, then came an answer:

“Let’s just say that, if there’s any sort of happiness with either Ollie or Shane, they aren’t finding it with each other. Now, would you excuse me?”

Tom remained still for a moment, then his jaw dropped as the realization hit.

“Not with each-?” he stammered. “You mean-?”

“Yes, now can I go get dressed?”

As Tom stepped into the hallway, his right hand rose to cover his agape mouth. Roddy strutted across the hall, rummaging in their wooden dresser and pulling out a pair of black briefs that slid over his feet and up his legs. Clacking claws and a passing, breathy pant signaled Barby’s crossing. Tom cleared his throat, then spun around and felt for the doorframe leading into the bedroom.

“How?” he asked. “How do you know?”

“Ollie told me.”

“Well, how does he know?”

“Tom-.”

“Forget it, Roddy, you’ve told me this much already. Might as well see it through.”

The man in question balled his hands into fists and smacked them against his sides.

“About two weeks ago, Ollie and Shane switched phones by accident. They both have that same picture of themselves as their background, so I’m surprised it hadn’t happened before then.”

Tom leaned against the doorframe, listening.

“While Ollie had Shane’s phone, an unlisted number called and asked to speak with Shane. Ollie identified himself as Shane’s partner, and the call suddenly disconnected.”

“Huh.”

Tom gave a nod.

“I’d like to say that could mean anything, but-...well, not much else.”

“Oh, it gets worse.”

“Worse?”

“Ollie may suspect Shane, but Shane knows nothing about what I saw at the coffee shop across from work the other day.”

Tom folded his arms and leaned in.

“Ollie was getting coffee with another man. Take it from me, Tom, they weren’t just old friends catching up. I know a date when I see one.”

Roddy paused, eyes widening again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-.”

Tom waved the remark off.

“But you’re sure about this?” he asked. “Shane? And Ollie? Both?”

“Yes,” Roddy repeated.

“Why? Why on earth would they do such a thing? After over ten years together?”

“Why does anyone do it, babe?” Roddy shrugged. “If they were truly so happy together, why would they go looking for the same thing elsewhere?”

Tom inched into the bedroom, arms outstretched before him, and sat atop the bed after feeling the mattress edge. Barby ducked in between his knees and snaked himself around Tom’s left leg.

“Wow,” he muttered. “If this had come from anyone else, I wouldn’t believe it.”

“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” Roddy replied. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“And why you suddenly don’t want to go out tonight.”

“I’m sorry. Spending time with a couple, knowing what both of us now know, is not my idea of a good time.”

Tom glanced in Roddy’s direction, but remained silent.

“Do you still want to go out tonight, Tom?”

“That depends,” replied the other man. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Okay.”

Tom scooted to his right and patted the empty space on the mattress.

“Sit down.”

Roddy did so, the warmth of his large frame radiated against Tom’s partially dressed figure.

“Are you happy?”

“Happy with what?”

“With-...well, anything? With me?”

“Yes.”

“Even though I am the way I am?”

“Yes.”

“And you’d never feel the need to go looking elsewhere for it?”

Roddy’s calloused hands took Tom’s into his own, and held them against his chest and the reassuring pulse of his heartbeat.

“Never,” he replied. “Do you believe me?”

Tom’s face cracked a smile.

“Yes,” he responded. “Of course I do.”

“I love you, Tom.”

“And I love you, Roddy.”

The latter took the hands in his grasp and lifted them to his lips, planting a kiss square on the knuckles before traveling up to the wrist. Tom’s fingers brushed against his chin, and the two closed the gap between them; their lips connected, and a pleasant warmth tingled within each of their chest. When they parted, both men were smiling now.

“My phone’s charging in the living room,” Roddy said. “I’ll go text Ollie we’re not coming.”

He stood up from the bed and headed for the door.

“Hurry back,” Tom urged. “I’ll need some help.”

“For what?”

Tom tugged on his dress shirt.

“Somebody’s got to undo these buttons for me.”

Roddy stopped in mid-step, then eased the bedroom door closed.

“Think the honeymoon’s over, do you?” he growled. “Come here-.”

Tom let out a surprised yelp, a noise imitated by the surprised Barby, as Roddy’s full body weight crashed against him.