"Whiskey, huh?"
"Just thought we could revisit that lovely night we had in high school," said Chad, opening the bottle and taking a swig. It was June, and he and Ryan were in Ryan's bedroom. The TV was on, but the boys were paying substantially more attention to each other.
"You remember, right?"
Ryan tapped his chin with one finger. "Ah, yes. I faintly recall professing my love for you, ever so subtly, and you telling me how much you wanted me."
Chad smacked him on the arm and handed off the bottle of Jack Daniels. Ryan took a hearty drink and kissed his boyfriend, some alcohol sloshing back and forth between their mouths.
"I didn't say I wanted you. I said any guy who you liked would really like you back."
"And I liked you. Obviously. I was wearing your letter jacket. Which, by the way, I didn't take off for two days, or something like that. I really, really wanted to smell like you."
Chad laughed. "That's creepy. And cute. I pretended that night never happened till, you know..."
"The hot tub?"
"Yeah. That." Chad grinned. "I still think that first kiss was one of our best ones."
"Yeah, you're right. And we can't really recapture that."
"How awful we both were..."
"But how much fun it was."
"Almost six years of sexual tension resolved."
"And look at us now," said Ryan, smiling. "Your dad finally gives you the go-ahead on being a gay."
"It was really great. I wish you'd been there," Chad said. "He had his arms folded, then he was literally twiddling his thumbs when he said, 'Son, I understand that you can be different and be happy. As long as I don't have to see it, I'm OK with it.'" Chad did a pretty solid imitation of his father.
Ryan laughed. "He didn't refer to the gay agenda or anything, then?"
"Nah, he was pretty reined in," said Chad. "My mom was there. And hey, give me that whiskey. We don't want you getting sick."
"Please, Chad. I've never once thrown up because I was drunk. And you have, what, five times?"
"Four," Chad corrected him. "And you were only there to verify one of them, so how can we really know all those other times happened?"
"There are witnesses." Ryan ticked them off on his fingers. "Troy, when we were still in high school. Roommate John, twice, once when you were writing a paper and cracked under pressure, and once at a keg party you shouldn't have attended. Sharpay, my own sister, when you got a little too into the punch at the one wrap party you got invited to. And me, in my apartment, after karaoke."
"It's only because you sang Katy Perry," said Chad. "Needed that image out of my mind."
"Oh, come on. You know you love it when you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans."
Chad slapped his hands over his ears. "No! Do you want me to throw up again?"
"If you're going to, at least make it to the toilet this time," Ryan suggested. "And while you're at it, give me that bottle back. We should limit your intake, not mine."
"I love you so much," said Chad, handing Ryan the bottle and kissing him.
"I love you too, lush."
"This doesn't seem like a very exciting celebration," Chad commented. "Shouldn't we be throwing a party? Like, 'Yay, Chad's dad is OK with his son being a total fag,' with rainbows and shit?"
Ryan laughed. "Who would we invite? I'm pretty sure we're the only gays in Albuquerque."
"I doubt that."
"OK, the only members of the East High graduating class of 2008. And it is weird not to hold hands in public or anything like that," Ryan said. "Believe it or not, Albuquerque doesn't have much in common with New York."
"I noticed. You really love it there, don't you?"
Ryan nodded. "Would be better with you."
"I know." Chad was quiet for a moment. Ryan took the opportunity to remove the bottle of Jack from Chad's grip and finish off the dregs.
"Hey, I wasn't done with that!" said Chad, grinning now.
"I'd rather you not be done with me," Ryan said, mussing Chad's hair.
"Clever. Real clever." Chad kissed Ryan. Inspired by alcohol or God knows what, Ryan had an idea.
"We should mess around in the tree house," he said excitedly. "Take it back to where everything began."
Chad laughed, then went slightly pale. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"Yes. Come on." Ryan dragged Chad by the hand. "Let's go outside, and get in the tree house, and do our thing. You know you want to."
"I guess I do," said Chad. "But why?"
"I don't know," Ryan admitted. "But it seems like a good idea, doesn't it?"
"Whatever. Good enough for me," Chad said, and the two of them made out like teenagers and then some in Ryan's childhood haunt. Ryan had always wanted to do this with Chad from the moment Chad had kissed him, and maybe before that. And it was good. Really, really good.
"You still taste like whiskey," Ryan said to Chad.
"You just taste like Ryan," said Chad.
"And what does that taste like?"
"I don't know." Chad furrowed his brow in concentration. Ryan loved when he did that. "Something sweet, but not too sweet. Like vanilla. But there's a bit of bite to it, too. Like the smell of someone else eating an orange."
"I like that." Ryan leaned against Chad's bare chest. "You're more like ... cinnamon, I think."
"And you like cinnamon?"
"My favorite flavor." They kissed. Chad looked at Ryan and was for once the one to brush hair out of his boyfriend's eyes.
"I really do think about it, you know," he said. "New York, I mean. And moving there with you. I'll decide soon, I promise."
"And will I like your decision?" Ryan asked quietly.
Chad paused before answering, "I think you will."
They kissed again, and again, and again.
