I never thought I would have two children in my apartment, especially not two bickering children. Okay, Leo and Carmen aren't exactly children, and they're not really bickering, but it's close enough.
Roger invited himself over to my apartment to celebrate the success of Prisoners of Love. In gayspeak, celebration actually means tea party, so I lay out my best doilies and china (figuratively speaking; I don't own any doilies) and prepared for the worst. Leo would be there, of course, if there was an awkward lull in conversation.
I realize now what a horrible idea that was. What could Leo do, make the awkward lull more awkward? As it turns out, I have little opportunity to amaze Roger with my small talk, since our bickering children drown me out.
Which brings me back to Leo and Carmen. I don't know what they're arguing about, but it must have something to do with the show. Maybe a costume debate. In the real world, the costume designer would be making these decisions. Leo doesn't have such an extravagant say in what actually happens. I make decisions and he nods. Not that he doesn't do anything; he just doesn't design costumes for a living. Carmen? Well, he just agrees with whatever Roger does.
Suddenly, I'm yanked from my reverie. Leo is staring at me, expecting some sort of answer to a question that I didn't hear.
"What?" I ask, self-consciously. Leo looks exasperated.
"I said, 'What do you think?'" he repeats.
What do I think? I don't even know what they were talking about. Was it costumes? I trust my instinct, and answer confidently.
"Gold," I answer. Regarding costumes (and pretty much everything), my motto is: When in doubt, make it gold.
Leo looks bemused. "Gold?" he parrots.
I guess that's not what they were talking about. "Yeah, gold."
Leo looks to Carmen, who shrugs. Roger is watching me with this wry grin; he knows I'm clueless. Damn.
On some unseen cue, Leo and Carmen resume their conversation. I listen carefully this time, so I'll be prepared when they look to me for expert advice again. To my astonishment, I realize they're not talking about the show at all. The topic is which cast member is the cutest.
"Okay," Carmen drawls in reluctant agreement. "Jacob is cute, I guess, but Julian is like…" he trails off, apparently searching for something to compare Julian to. "He's like Prince Charming," he finishes with a flourish.
Leo laughs. "Yeah, if Snow White were a guy."
Then, Roger laughs, and I'm lost again. "I think you mean Cinderella, dear."
Right. Of course Roger would know the fairy tale princes. I'm sure he, like all the other little girls, wanted to grow up to be a princess.
"What about Julia?" Leo speculates. "She's nice."
Carmen sputters. "Julia? But she's…" he stops, then waves his hand dismissively. "I keep forgetting you're bisexual," he says.
"You keep forgetting or you don't want to remember?" Leo teases, and Carmen blushes.
Did I miss something? Leo's teasing Carmen, and Carmen has a crush on Leo. I miss the most obvious things sometimes…well, not that often.
I look over at Roger to gauge his reaction. He doesn't look jealous of (or angry at) Leo, so Carmen's crush must be one-sided. Good. I may not be a possessive man, but Leo is mine and I ain't sharing him.
Leo and Carmen move onto different topics, and eventually, the conversation dwindles. Carmen plays with his empty teacup, and Leo yawns behind his hand. Roger and I stand at the same time, thinking the same thing.
"Carmen, we should go," he says. I get his coat.
Carmen frowns – no, pouts. "Do we have to?" He stands anyway, pulling on his coat when I offer it.
"I don't think Max and Leo will appreciate your presence when they're busy."
Roger over-enunciates 'busy', and the double meaning isn't lost on any of us – except Leo, who's yawning again.
They leave without fanfare, though Carmen can't help trailing his hand out the door. I promptly close it as soon as his hand is out of the way, and turn to Leo. He is slumped sideways over the arm of the couch, his eyes closed. I sit next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him against me. He makes a small noise and cuddles closer.
"Did you have fun?" I ask.
He tilts his head up to look me in the eye. He is smiling. "Yeah…it was normal," he says, sighing happily.
I pause. "Normal?" I squeak. "I thought you had fun. It's just 'normal', now?"
Leo sits up, clearly disturbed that I've misunderstood him. "No, I didn't…I mean, it's just…"
I wait, and after a moment, he leans his head on my chest. I run my hand through his hair, and he continues. "I never had a normal day before. When I was at Whitehall and Marks, all I did was eat, sleep, and work. Oh, and dream," he adds, with a sheepish grin. "It wasn't normal, it was monotonous. It feels so good to do what I want, when I want to."
I almost blurt out, "and who you want," but stop myself. I don't want to embarrass him while he's having such a good time.
He's staring at me with a half-smile; he knows what I almost said. Jeez, am I an open book?
My thoughts are interrupted for the second time today by Leo, who inches closer and kisses me. I kiss back. When we part, I whisper, "I love you."
Leo looks surprised. He knows that I love him, I just don't say it much. He, on the other hand, says it as often as he can. He's very vocal about it, while I'm very physical. Opposites attract, I guess.
Leo smiles. "I love you too," he says.
We kiss again, and when I open my eyes, Leo is practically on top of me.
"I thought you were tired," I say, almost laughing.
"I'm awake now," he points out, and I'm starting to suspect that this was all just an elaborate ruse for him to have some quality alone time with me.
Later, I'm lying next to him in bed, again running my hands through his hair. He seems to like that.
If this is what a normal day feels like, I'll gladly be normal for the rest of my life.