OF DREAMS AND CEREMONIES (6 page)

Nicholas had gaped at him and then frowned in thought for a long moment, before tentatively asking, "What were you intending to … ?"

"Well, right now, it would all go to Denise or Zoe. But you should be my main beneficiary, shouldn't you?"

Nicholas still seemed surprisingly unsure about something. "Because it will be evidence of us being in a committed relationship? For the Department of Immigration, I mean."

"No, because that's the way it should be," Dave corrected him. "We're getting married, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are." Nicholas finally broke into a big happy grin. "I'll do the same."

"But getting married doesn't change the fact that Zoe's kind of my godchild, right?"

"Of course not! It means she'll be kind of mine as well. If Denise and Vittorio don't mind."

"They won't mind," Dave said, very lightly. So once things were finalised and signed and witnessed, other than a substantial bequest to Zoe, Nicholas would receive all Dave's worldly possessions when he died.

Nicholas did likewise, though he chose to leave some personal gifts to Robin rather than money. "It's not like he won't have plenty anyway," Nicholas explained to Dave. "He's in line for the whole shebang one day. So you might as well have what's mine. And there's a fair bit, you know. I haven't had my own family to raise, like the others, and I've never had my own home to pay for."

"As long as you know that's not why I'm marrying you."

"No, it's for the sex, isn't it?"

"Yes, Nicholas. It's for the sex."

Well, whether it was or it wasn't, Dave wanted to offer something to Nicholas as a reward. Late one night as they drifted together down the river that was making love, Dave with Nicholas, this wondrous river already so familiar - just as the current started to tug them into deeper stronger waters, Dave murmured, "What d'you want to do? Nicholas? What do you want that we haven't done yet?"

"Oh God," Nicholas complained half-seriously against Dave's throat, "you're bored with me already."

"You
know
I'm not." He tried to explain while Nicholas resumed the lovely distraction of his mouthings and gnawings. "I just thought … if there was something different … you might want … as well as, I mean. Not instead of."

Nicholas finally pulled back a little to consider him, and they gently floated back into relative calm. A long serious moment later, Nicholas asked, "Anything?"

"Anything," he promised with perfect confidence.

Another long moment passed by before Nicholas finally lowered himself again to pepper sweet kisses across Dave's cheekbones and nose, mouth and chin. Then, close by Dave's ear, Nicholas tentatively asked, "Would you wear something?"

He pulled back again to see Dave's reaction. Dave frowned, not really knowing what to think. They usually had sex naked - and why not? Naked allowed for the complete experience, with no hindrances or frustrations or distractions. The only times they didn't get naked were when they were too frantic to bother completely undressing. Which wasn't a sex thing, but an urgency thing. So what did Nicholas mean? "Wear something… ?" Dave eventually echoed. "Like what?"

Nicholas flushed a little, which suggested a few horrible ideas to Dave.

"No, not like a … you want me to dress up as a …"

"Not necessarily."

"Or like a costume or something?"

Nicholas scrunched his face up. "I'm open to the possibilities, but that's not what I had in mind."

"Look," said Dave, struggling to sit up a bit and really face his lover. "I'm a man, all right? I know you fuck me a lot, and you usually do the driving in bed. But that doesn't make me - "

"Of course not!"

"I am
not
going to play the drag queen for you. I'm not a woman. I'm not going to pretend to be anything I'm not."

"That's
fine
, David," Nicholas said, starting to sound a bit exasperated.

Dave took a breath, and then sat up further against the headboard. Nicholas was kneeling between Dave's bent legs, but they weren't touching any more. Finally Dave managed, "Not that there's anything wrong with that for those who want to. But I don't. Want to."

"I get that," Nicholas remarked tartly. Then he softened a little. "For heaven's sake, David, I
like
that you're a man. You're all man even when you're getting fucked, I
promise
. And that totally works for me. I don't want to change anything about you."

"But you do, don't you? You want me to be gay, and I'm probably stuffing it up badly."

Nicholas groaned in frustration and annoyance. "I have news for you, David. All you have to do to be gay is love me. And actually you're pretty much a genius at that."

After another long moment of bullheadedness, Dave took a breath and tried to be more reasonable. "All right. Then, what is it you want me to do?"

"Nothing at all, if you don't want to - honestly."

"Yeah,
all right,
I trust you. Just tell me!" A silence stretched, and Dave belatedly reflected that no doubt Nicholas was now feeling as vulnerable and misunderstood as Dave himself had not a minute before. "Hey," Dave joshed. "You want me to wear a chauffeur's cap and call you sir? We can do that. Just don't … don't call me Frank in the middle of it, and we'll do fine."

Nicholas cast him a flat look. "I said it wasn't about costumes. And I so do not have a sense of humour about how I used to feel for Frank."

"Of course not," Dave offered softly. He sat forward, and let both his hands settle on Nicholas in a gentle caress. "Come on, tell me. If I can, I will, I promise. Even if I don't understand." That earned him a fond glance. "Be patient with me. I'm just a dumb Aussie who never had to think much about this sort of stuff. But I'm not a
totally
lost cause."

"No, that's the very last thing you are," Nicholas declared. Then he finally shifted forward so he was sitting with his legs curled under him, and one hand resting on Dave's thigh. Eventually he said, very quietly, "I like naked, I like skin. But I like silk, too. Would you wear something made of silk while we're in bed?" He dared to glance at Dave and then swiftly looked away. "Doesn't have to be feminine or anything. It's the … texture that counts. Not what it actually is."

Dave swallowed, not sure what he was really getting into. But he couldn't find anything to protest about in what Nicholas had just asked. "Well," he replied, both firmly and cautiously. "That sounds okay."

Nicholas shot him a grateful look - and then suddenly he was looking directly at Dave, directly
into
him, his gaze shockingly level and intent. Dave let out a breath that was almost a gasp, exactly as if Nicholas had just penetrated him. Nicholas drew closer - and Dave couldn't help but draw back, at least for an inch or two until his head collided
thunk
against the headboard.

"You know what I like best of all?" Nicholas asked.

Dave shook his head. No.

"I like looking into your eyes, your beautiful blue eyes, and they're so clear and you're so open to me, like an infinite sky, like a pool that sinks down
forever
. There are no barriers - not like there are at the moment. There's no confusion or doubt or pain or fear, there's just
you
… there's you letting me in … and me inside of you … there's just
us
together … and then there's the air and the sunlight and the pleasure, until at last - at last - "

"Oh God," said Dave roughly. "Silk or not, I don't care - just fuck me. Just fuck me now."

And that's what they did.

four

Denise called back a couple of days later, and chatted briefly with Dave before asking, "Who do I talk to about our clothes for the wedding, you or Nicholas?"

"Am I going to hate them?" Dave asked.

"No, you are
not
going to hate them!" she retorted in mock exasperation. "Don't you trust me any more, Davey?"

"Yeah, you know I do. Well, unless it's real simple and obvious, you'd better talk to him, right? Or I'll just confuse the issue when I pass it on."

"That's what I thought."

"Huh. Okay, hang on, and I'll get him for you. I'll just be a mo." Dave carefully put the phone down, and then jogged on through to the family living room where Nicholas was stretched out with a book.

Nicholas had been out of sorts from the moment Dave woke that morning, and Dave wasn't sure why - though he assumed it had something to do with the fact they were due to have lunch with a group of Nicholas's friends that day, most of whom were either former university friends or gay - or both. Dave himself was dreading it, and he imagined that Nicholas was, too.

Once Dave had conveyed what Denise wanted to talk about, Nicholas got an intent look on his face, and without saying a word in reply headed off to pick up the call. Dave figured he'd be better off leaving them to it, and settled on a sofa before taking up Nicholas's book and examining it. Which was about butterflies, of course, which meant that at least Dave could appreciate the pictures.

About fifteen minutes later, Nicholas came back into the room and stood looming over Dave with a thunderous scowl. "Did you tell her about the silk thing?" he demanded.

"No! What?" Dread fell through Dave and settled uneasily in his gut.

"Are you
sure
?"

"Of course I'm sure! I'm not gonna be talking sex stuff with Denise!" Which wasn't actually the point. The point was: "God. What does she want me to wear?"

Nicholas relaxed a fraction. "You'll like it. It's all right. A silk shirt and linen trousers. Maybe a waistcoat, too, silk or linen. You'll be fine."

Dave looked at him closely. Nicholas was still thoroughly out of sorts. "What about you?" Dave asked cautiously. "Are you okay with it?"

"Yes. Yes, I am." Nicholas at last folded down onto the sofa opposite Dave, and sat there hunched forward with his elbows on his knees. "You'll be smart-casual, while we'll be formal, but the colours will work together perfectly." He added with a humourless smile, "There's no point trying to dress you up as something you're not, is there?"

"No," Dave agreed, very quietly and very cautiously.

"Actually, I suspect Denise has just managed to rather creatively save the whole thing. I mean, it would have been good. Now it's going to be perfect."

"Well," said Dave, still rather cautious, "that's great. Isn't it?"

"Yes."

A silence threatened to drag out into something unbearable. "Look. Are you going to tell me what's bothering you? It's about me meeting your friends, isn't it? But, you know - I figure they'll be happy for you. Even if they don't like me."

"What?" Nicholas scowled again, this time looking honestly mystified. "Why on earth wouldn't they like you?"

"Because I barely made it through high school, and because I'm not, you know … gay enough."

"Oh, for God's sake, not
that
again."

"So," Dave retorted, "if that's not the problem, why don't you tell me what is, then?"

Nicholas stared at him as if Dave were a pinned butterfly that refused to be properly identified. "How would you describe yourself now? If asked. Gay? Straight? What?"

"See, I never had to think about it before. Because I had Denise."

"So why are you suddenly so keen on labels now, then?"

"I dunno. I guess because everyone else seems to be."

"Well … ?"

Dave let out a sigh. "Well, I suppose I'm … bi. Bisexual." He coloured up a bit. It was the first time he'd ever said the word aloud, and he had the horrible suspicion that some people would interpret bi as indecisive or maybe just lacking courage. "I mean, I loved Denise. That was real. But this is real, too. So I guess that makes me … both?"

"Exactly. And why the hell do you think my friends - whose business it so totally isn't, anyway - Why do you think they'd have any kind of problem with that?"

"I guess they wouldn't. But I just don't know how to … be."

"Fuck's sake! Just be yourself. You have no problem doing that when it comes to whether you'll wear a suit or not, do you?!"

Dave just stared back at the man, trying to scramble through all the confusion back to its source. "Um. Okay. So you think it's going to go all right? Lunch, I mean."

Nicholas heaved an exasperated sigh. "Of
course
it is. Just what kind of idiotic friends do you think I have, anyway?" he added in a grumble.

A moment passed. "Right," said Dave. "So, what have you been unhappy about today? If it's not that."

Another moment passed while Nicholas just considered him, his annoyance at last dwindling away into something cooler. Eventually he said, "We have to go soon. There's not time to get into it. We'll talk about it later this afternoon, all right?"

"All right." Dave let out a breath, and made himself ask what Denise would have wanted him to ask if it were her. "Is it something - between us? Something I've done."

"No …" Nicholas gusted a breath and fell forward onto his knees, at last softening, warming, pushing into Dave's embrace. "No, not at all." They took each other into the deepest of hugs. "Nothing like that."

"You gonna give me a hint?"

"Just - I found another hoop. In the visa process."

"Ah, well. Hoops are for jumping through."

"And that's why you're the hero in the story of my life."

"Oh
Nicholas
," he groaned. And they held each other tightly there, prepared to deal together with all the world might throw at them.

The accord between them was wonderful, but it didn't last. Despite the fact that Nicholas's friends greeted Dave as if he were already their friend and had been all along - and despite the fact that Dave quickly relaxed in their company as if he'd just walked into a pub in Charleville rather than Beaconsfield - Nicholas was soon out of sorts again.

"I should have brought the Akubra," Nicholas grumbled. A table had been set for them outside in the beer garden along which ran a canal. There were willow trees on the other bank, and everything was idyllically English - but Nicholas grimaced fretfully up at the sunshine despite being under a broad canvas umbrella, and said, "I don't want to get too hot."