Gob stood in the kitchen, keeping a keen eye on the cast iron stovetop griddle as two discs of pancake batter began to form small bubbles.
"Just about there," he muttered to himself, then waited another thirty seconds or so. "Aaaaaaannnnnd flip!"
"Are you kidding me?!" Tony remarked as he shuffled into the kitchen, still toweling off wet hair. "I wasn't in the shower that long, how did you have time to do all this?" He tipped the mixing bowl to see hardley a single pancake's worth of stuff remaining.
"It's an overnight batter," Gob explained. "Did you know that was even a thing? Anyhow, I made it last night while you were out walking Marcy's dog and hid it in the back of the fridge. Griddle's been on since the second you stepped in the bathroom. Oh, and don't bother checking on Marcy. She doesn't actually have the flu, I just looped her in on my stealthy get-you-out-of-the-apartment plan."
Tony wrapped his arms around Gob's neck with an adoring smile. "You're a genius."
NARRATOR: This was the least true thing any person had ever said.
"Aren't I though?" Gob affirmed, his warm expression mirroring Tony's.
NARRATOR: Well, the least true thing if you don't count all those dipshit flat-earther theories. Seriously, what's wrong with those people?
Tony let go of his boyfriend and took a step back. "Happy Just Hands Day!" he said triumphantly, holding up a hand to be met with a high five.
"Just Hands!" Gob echoed, delivering the expected gesture with enthusiasm.
NARRATOR: They both considered their ridiculous and obviously doomed 'just hands' date to be the official beginning their romance, and so thereafter referred to each anniversary as 'Just Hands Day.' It was a tiny, unique detail of their relationship, and this was their fourth.
The high five was followed by a lot of gooey nuzzling and snuggling, which was eventually derailed by the smell of . . .
"Oh no!" Gob gasped, breaking away from the sweet moment to flip his pancakes. "Okay," he breathed a deep sigh of relief as though he'd just saved someone from the very jaws of death. "They're not burned burned. Just a little dark."
Tony pointed his chin toward the impressive number cakes already sitting in neat stacks on a beat up old sheet tray beneath a glass cloche to keep them warm. "Either way, I think we're covered." He put his arms around Gob's waist with a quiet chuckle. "Do you have a plan for the leftovers? 'Cause no way can we eat all this now."
"Breakfast-for-dinner tomorrow night," Gob explained. "And if there's anything left after that I'll cube 'em up, dry 'em out in the oven with some brioche, and make a bread pudding."
NARRATOR: In the years since coming out Gob had become an avid student of exactly two subjects: Queer Issues and Culinary Arts. So, gay stuff or food? Yeah, he's got you covered. Literally anything else? Nope. Still dumb as a bag of air.
Tony gazed up at the taller man with pride. "I repeat: I landed a genius. Can't say it enough."
NARRATOR: Yes, romance was in the air for sure that morning, but it came to a screeching halt when Tony noticed Gob's satchel sitting on the end of the counter. His work satchel to be precise. Then the whole mood cooled off.
Tony let out a long groan. "Noooooo, Gob, tell me you're not going to-c'mon, man! It's Just Hands Day! It's our day! You can't go to work on-" he huffed and crossed his arms with more than a little petulance. "You promised me last year you wouldn't do this again!"
"I knoooooow," Gob said as he placed two finished pancakes under the cloche and scraped the last remnants of batter onto the griddle. "I know Tony, I did promise, and I'm sorry, but it's just . . the thing is, a queer advocacy group flew in all the way from Atlanta to check out the FTSC-"
NARRATOR: Family Transition Support Center. The name he and Michael had decided on several years back. Not only had it become a roaring success locally, and a model for centers statewide, they even found themselves traveling to out of state conferences several times a year in order tob to present, in detail, the operational model and goals of the FTSC. In short, work tended to eat up a lot of Gob's time.
Tony let out another, longer groan. Somehow with even more petulance than the first as his posture sagged, weighted down by disappointment. It was truly impressive how hard the man could rock a pout. "But seriously?" He whined. "Does it have to be on our day?"
Gob drew a deep breath and rested his forehead against Tony's. "I promise honey, I'm only there for the meet 'n greet. Okay? Super quick. I'll shake hands, give an intro, little tour, then Michael's gonna handle everything else for the rest of the week."
"What? The whole week?" The creases in Tony's forehead broadcast both suspicion and curiosity.
"Oh yeah," Gob nodded as he fetched two plates from the cupboard. "I cleared everything off my schedule."
The creases grew deeper. "Whyyyyyy is the whole week such a big deal?"
Gob did his best to hold back a smile, succeeding only somewhat. "You'll find out tonight."
"Are we going on a trip?" Tony guessed.
"You'll find out tonight," Gob repeated, his voice soaked in mischievous glee as his last pancake came off the griddle.
"Aruba? Hawaii?" Tony continued to toss out random guesses. "Or are we staying stateside? Like . . . Grand Canyon? Rocky Mountains?"
Gob gave his boyfriend a quick kiss as he handed over a plate of two pancakes with a few spoonfuls of sliced strawberries on top. "Fine," he sighed, "you broke me. I booked us a flight to the moon."
Tony gave him a look of deep warmth with just a tiny dose of annoyance mixed in. "Y'know you're a dick sometimes. You do know that, right?"
"I make no apologies," Gob quipped with an air of nonchalance as they sat down at the dining table. After breakfast he raced over to the FTSC as fast as possible without risking a ticket.
"You're here already?" Michael said with genuine surprise when his brother entered their small staff lounge. "You know the Atlanta guys won't be here for at least another twenty minutes." He stood from his chair and placed a hand on Gob's shoulder. "And I told you I'd handle all the prep work so you and Tony could have nice lazy morning, remem-"
"I didn't come in early for work stuff," Gob interrupted. "You're still totally handling everything but the meet 'n greet, I just need your opinion on this,"he withdrew a long slender box from his satchel and presented it to Michael. Inside the box was a linked bracelet, silver, every other link carved with an intricate design while the rest were just plain silver. "It's an anniversary gift for Tony."
"Woooooow . . ." Michael breathed, taking the box from Gob for closer inspection, running his thumb over the elegant metal. "I love it! It's . . . it's simple, classic, sort of an understated-"
"So Tony's gonna hate it, right?"
"So much!" Exclaimed Michael. "Buddy, what were you thinking with this?!"
"It's part of a bait 'n switch," Gob explained, practically jittering with excitement like a kid on Christmas Eve. "I'm taking him out for dinner to his favorite restaurant, then I'll give him this before dessert, he'll pretend to love it because-"
"Because he loves you, right, I follow," said Michael. "But where does the 'switch' part come in?"
Gob took the box from Michael and placed it back in the satchel. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, Mikey, just needed to make sure the bracelet was boring enough." He slung an arm around his younger sibling's shoulders and squeezed tight. "And if you like it? It is definitelyboring enough! Thank you!"
"Hm," Michael pursed his lips. "And that was so close to being a heartwarming brother moment."
NARRATOR: Honestly, I think it still hits the mark. I mean considering the family, anything that doesn't involve excessive swearing or physical violence should probably count as sentimental, right?
Later that evening as the couple ate their desserts, Gob was genuinely impressed by what a stellar job Tony was doing at pretending to like his new bracelet. From fiddling with it, to gazing at it, and even happily showing it off to their waiter.
If Gob didn't know the man so well as he did, he'd have totally bought Tony's enthusiasm as genuine. But he knew better.
NARRATOR: I'll save you the suspense: No, Gob wasn't mistaken. Tony fucking hated that thing.
"Thank you again, Gob," Tony gushed, fake-admiring his new jewelry. "So much. It's really . . . really something!"
Gob swelled with pride, though not at all for the reasons his lover assumed.
NARRATOR: Part one of the plan had gone off without a hitch. Now on to part two. Let's all watch that happen:
"So what's next?" Tony asked as they left the restaurant.
Every year they alternated who got to plan Just Hands Day, and this year was Gob's turn to take charge. He wrapped his arms around Tony as they waited for their Uber, cozying close. "Remember how I told you about that kid from the center?" He asked. "The one whose mom was devastated when his dad came out after nearly twenty years of what everyone thought was a great marriage?"
"Yeah," Tony nodded, "and how the kid did a few card tricks for his mom, and that was the first time in a month she stopped crying and seemed happy? Sure, it was a cute story. But what-"
"Well," Gob cut him off, "he showed me some card tricks too, and I thought he had real talent. So I've been sort of . . . mentoring him in magic, and tonight is his first real show in front of an audience."
"And we're going?" Tony asked with an excited little hop. "To your first protege's first show? Awwwww, that's so perfect!" He rose up on tip-toe to give his boyfriend a little kiss. "It's . . . like . . . so us."
"It's just ameture night at the Blue Door Lounge." Gob said with a casual shrug. "And he's only seventeen so his parents had to sign a legal waiver thingie so he'd be allowed on premises. But yeah, I'm super excited for him!"
"Me too!" Tony exclaimed. "You're amazing.This is the best Just Hands Day gift ever!"
NARRATOR: As far as Tony was concerned, his boyfriend had already more than made up for the bracelet fumble. So much so that he even promised himself he would wear the thing at least once or twice a year. You know, whenever the dress code called for 'blah.'
Each performer at the Blue Door was either damn good, or showed real promise, which was rare for an ameture show. Usually there was at least one dud in the mix. Gob's protege was the closing act. He'd made sure of it.
"Hello, hello," said the astoundingly confident kid as he walked out on stage, waving to the crowd with both hands like a seasoned pro. "Good to see such a packed house, I hope we're all having fun. Uh . . . so, everyone, this is actually my first show in front of people. At least people who aren't my parents, or friends I could bribe with pizza."
A soft chuckle rippled through the crowd.
"Good warm-up," Tony whispered in Gob's ear. "You were right, he's a natural on stage."
"So, My name is Kevin Connelly, sorry I haven't come up with a snazzy stage name yet, not gonna lie, I might just stick with Kevin. And uh, normally I start out with card tricks, but tonight I'm going to begin with a little mind-reading. Yeah," he nodded in response to gentle applause. "Yeah, some mind-reading tricks. We all down for that?"
The crowd responded with more enthused applause, slowly warming to the young performer.
"Great! Now Ladies and Gentlemen, we actually have one of my favorite illusionists, a hero of mine, in the crowd tonight. So we're gonna start with him. A-hem." The boy cleared this throat. "Will Mister Tony Wonder please stand up?"
NARRATOR: Literally only three people on earth had ever referred to Tony as their favorite illusionist. One, of course, being Gob. The other two were his parents.
"What have you done?" Tony rasped in Gob's general direction as he stood from his seat.
Gob completely ignored the question. He and Kevin had been working on this script for several weeks, and damn if he was gonna let it veer off track now.
Kevin continued on with the show as practiced. "Oh, there you are! Hi Tony, it is amazing to meet you! And . . I sense that you're here with your boyfriend tonight?"
"That is correct." Tony nodded, playing along with the so-called 'psychic'.
"Okay, great. And I'm also sensing that today is a special day for you both, let's see if I can figure out why," Kevin closed his eyes and put a hand to his temple. "Uuuuuuuuhhhhhh . . . hm. That's weird. All I'm seeing is . . . just . . . hands. Does that make sense to you, Tony? Why I'd be seeing just hands? Do you know what that's about?"
Tony smirked happily and cast a sidelong glance to Gob, who sat in a flimsy old wooden chair, beaming up at him.
"Yes, I do know what it's about."
"Okay, awesome." Kevin nodded. "So I'm on the right track. Now let's go a little deeper. You are wearing ooooooonnnnnnn your . . ." he pretended be in deep focus . . . "let's see . . . yes, on your right wrist is a new bracelet that you do not like. At. All."
"What?!" Tony cried out, suddenly horrified. "No! No, I, i-it's-"
"Don't lie to a psychic, Tony Wonder," Kevin cautioned. "You absolutely hate that thing."
"Yeah Tony," Gob said, wearing a fake scowl that took all of his effort to maintain. "Don't lie to the psychic!"
NARRATOR: Tony had no clue what the hell was going on at that point. But, ever the performer, he decided in a heartbeat it was best to carry on. That poor young Kevin didn't deserve to have his first public show marred by a Lover's Quarrel.
"Fine," Tony shrugged, slumped and defeated. "I don't like the bracelet." He couldn't even bear to make eye contact with Gob as he spoke the words.
"Okay," Kevin nodded. "I can tell you didn't like admitting that, but you know what, Tony? You know what? It's aaaaaalllllll gonna be fine, because I'm sensing-" once again he closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his temple. "I'm sensing, yes . . . I'm sensing . . . yes, yes! . . I'm sensing that the person who gave you that bracelet wants to marry you!"
"WHAT!?" Tony yelped in sudden, profound shock, backed up by a soundtrack of raucous applause and whistles from the crowd. This time when he turned to look at Gob, the other man's 'scowl' had vanished, replaced instead with a look of pure shining delight.
"In fact," Kevin continued while motioning for the audience to quiet down a bit. "In fact Tony, if you'll just go ahead and reach into your right coat pocket, please . . ."
Still stunned and a bit lightheaded Tony did as he was told, and withdrew from his pocket a wide titanium band with three rows of small gems running the full circumference in an alternating pattern of diamonds and sapphires. He knew Gob must have slipped it into his pocket while Kevin had him distracted, but still . . .
"A bait 'n switch?" He warbled happily as Gob stood up. "You seriously proposed with a bait 'n switch?"
"Mmhm," Gob replied, unable to articulate anything more sophisticated as he slid the perfectly Tony-esque ring onto Tony's finger with shaky hands. He'd known this ring was the one the moment he saw it at the jewelers. No question. Sensible enough to be worn every day, yet showy enough for . . . well, for a showman.
For his showman.
"I don't think we heard an answer there, Tony!" Kevin yelled from the stage, leaning out, a hand cupped around his ear.
"YES!" Tony shouted back, showing off his ring finger to the crowd. "OBVIOUSLY YES!"
Another warm wave of 'aaaaawwwww's and applause broke out.
NARRATOR: I'm not crying, you're crying!
"GREAT!" Kevin proclaimed over the noise of the crowd.. "AND THERE'S NO WAY I'M GONNA TOP A SHOW LIKE THAT, FOLKS, SO IF YOU WANNA SEE MY REAL SET? PLEASE DO COME BACK TOMORROW! THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT!"
With that Kevin Connelly, aspiring magician, took a grand bow and exited the stage.
Rather than leave the club right away as Gob had originally planned, the newly engaged couple ended up staying for several more giddy hours. Other patrons kept buying them round after round of congratulatory drinks, and no one turns down free booze on a night of big celebration, right?
It was a loud and festive evening, and both men were three sheets to the wind by the time they stumbled through the door of their apartment and flopped down on the couch.
"We . . . we sh'ld drnk water b'fore bed," Gob slurred, pointing to the kitchen. "Th'water lives . . . ov'r there . . ."
"Y're so drunk!" Tony giggled.
NARRATOR: Tony could hold his liquor a bit better than Gob, but not by much. These boys were suuuuuuper trashed.
"C'n I take this . . . th'thing off now?" Asked Tony, jiggling his still-braceleted wrist.
"God y'ssssssss!"
It took both men's effort to unclasp the damn thing.
NARRATOR: So, so drunk.
As the (marginally) sober-er of the two, Tony won the task of fetching them water. He first brought over two glasses, then filled up their biggest pitcher and brought it over as well. Gob slid a magazine under it just in time to avoid leaving a water ring on the coffee table.
"Fussy pants!" Tony teased as he filled both glasses, then settled on the couch, slumping his head on Gob's shoulder.
Eventually the water did its job and both men decided it was safe to go to bed, expecting only mild hangovers the next morning.
"We should re-gift that boringass bracelet," said Tony as he settled his head on a pillow. "I feel like Michael would love it."
"That was part of my plan all along," said Gob, yawning the brag-y words.
"You're so clever." Tony yawned as well, heavy eyelids fluttering shut. "So tomorrow's all about telling everyone . . . we're engaged. . . and . . ." he yawned again. "And stuff?"
Gob took Tony's hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze, replying with a barely audible: "Mmhm. G'night."
"G'night."
Both men were snoring within minutes.
NARRATOR: And that's the story of how Gob and Tony got engaged. Illusion and a few tiny lies. You know, exactly like their first Just Hands Day.
THE END.