Antoine rarely took days off. Nor did he make a habit of leaving work early. His work ethic prohibited it. Sometimes though, there were thing more important than the daily grind. He'd asked Sharon for a personal leave day, which she'd granted.
Antoine had things to take care of. Shortly after Preston left for work, he climbed into his ancient Geo Metro, the first and only car he'd ever had, and drove downtown. Preston had been confused, possibly a bit annoyed by Antoine's decision to take a day off.
While Antoine might've been a solid worker, Preston's nature took an almost masochistic bend, the belief that everything would collapse were he not at the helm. He'd gotten better over the long months, learning how to release the reins a bit and let his staff do their jobs, but he was by no means the lackadaisical man that his predecessor had been. Perhaps, Antoine mused as he drove, that was just Preston's nature. Alert, high-strung, cautious and sensitive. All Preston's ego and bravado was merely a clever disguise, carefully sculpted over the years. It kept people from seeing his true nature, and it worked very well.
Antoine, however, knew better. He had seen the sort of person his housemate truly was. He'd been there while Preston struggled through his own dark place of depression and anxiety following the Incident where he'd been shot, and his boss murdered. The medication, the counseling, and, of course Antoine's support had worked wonders on the young man.
Antoine drove through the crowded downtown streets of Plateau City, pausing to let a through of pedestrians cross. Three in the afternoon, on a Friday. Everyone must've gotten off early, Antoine concluded as he circled the block looking for a parking spot. At least Bessie was small, and parallel parking was a skill of his. On the second pass, he found a spot, and darted in.
He had to admit his car looked horribly out of place in the shopping district, but it didn't matter. There was a particular store he needed to get to, to pick up an item he'd ordered some time back. Hamilton's Watches and Fine Jewelry. The sort of store that sold things like Cartier timepieces, and exclusive gem-studded ornamentation.
Antoine ambled over the the counter and gave them his order slip. While the associate went to box his order, he allowed himself to look over a set of sapphire-accented cufflinks. He wondered if Preston would like them. The man had an extensive collection, Antoine learned; matching his closet full of tailored suits and silk ties. Would the dark blue look good on Preston? Antoine wasn't sure.
"Mister Radson," a voice interrupted his thoughts. "Your item is ready, sir."
Antoine thanked the associate, paid, and tucked the bag into his coat pocket.
Bessie was naturally where he'd left her, looking none the worse for wear. Someday, he'd have to buy a new car. Or maybe a truck. Something. But not today. Not any time soon at this rate. He had to confess he loved the look of one of the square-faced Cartier watches. It was large, but on his brawny wrist it wouldn't be out of place. "Maybe next time," he thought out loud. That in mind, he drove home. He'd add that watch to his 'wish list.'
Preston arrived home right on schedule, his dark Cadillac cruising softly up the driveway and into the garage. Antoine was waiting, sitting at the breakfast bar, facing the laundry room that connected their house with the garage.
As soon as the door opened he greeted Preston with a cheery hello. "Hey, it's gorgeous weather out, Prep. Put on some jeans or something, and hiking shoes. I wanna go for a walk out back."
Preston didn't object. He nodded, set his bag on the table, and gave Antoine a pat on the knee as he walked past. "Good to see you too, Antoine," he smiled.
Antoine's house was located on the edge of town, technically Plateau City, but outside the urban area. He'd bought the place years ago for its location. The previous owners had planted a privacy hedge around the perimeter of the back yard, save for the far end which butted up against the pine barrens.
The Plateau Pine Barrens themselves where a state park, located at the northern edge of the city, inland of the escarpments. A state park of sandy glacial soil, dunes created in in the last ice age. Few plants could grow there, aside from pine trees and grasses that thrived in open sun. The landscape was a series of camel-backed hills and dips, dotted with mature pines and open sand fields.
Antoine had bought the house knowing however much development occurred around him, at least the state land would remain untouched. He'd never have neighbors or a subdivision behind him. It was the perfect place to take his mountain bike, and tear through the narrow trails at breakneck speeds, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
The pine barrens were also a great place to hike and think when he wanted to escape the hustle of city life, and savor nature for a bit. There was one spot in particular, a gentle rise that few people went to. It afforded a nice view over the barrens. It was a decent walk, but not unbearable. Maybe a mile in. Well worth the trip.
Preston emerged from his room, wearing a pair of acid-washed skinny jeans and a grey tee shirt. He wore a red flannel shirt, unbuttoned, and a pair of worn tennis shoes.
Antoine recognized the shirt immediately. It used to be one of his.
Somewhere in their cohabitation, Preston had claimed it; something Antoine took secret delight in.
"So where are we going?" Preston asked as Antoine locked the patio door behind them and dropped the key into his pocket.
"We need to talk," Antoine replied, leading Preston past the pool and towards the pine barrens at the edge of his property. "I felt like outside would be the best place for it." He rubbed his chest absentmindedly, that gut-tight feeling of apprehension. Outside, the pine barrens. Neutral territory.
Preston picked up on the tension. "Is everything okay?" he asked, dark eyes nervous.
"We just gotta talk about stuff, is all," Antoine replied brusquely.
For the first quarter mile, neither man spoke much. The trail from Antoine's back yard was narrow and well-concealed. Once they got past the tree boundary of the barrens, the land opened up, and they could walk side by side. Antoine reached out, and took Preston's hand.
"We need to talk about us," Antoine confessed.
"In what way?" Preston asked.
Antoine felt his palm beginning to sweat, and ignored it. No sense in beating around the bush. "Hey Preston, how would you feel if you had to be intimate with a woman?"
Preston's fingers twitched. "I... well... You know I have in the past."
"Right, right," Antoine cut him off. "Back when you were getting to know yourself. But now that you know who you are, and what you like, how would you feel about it now?"
Preston pursed his lips, mouth a tight, thin line. He exhaled slowly.
Antoine could hear the slight tremor in Preston's breath, but whether from anger or apprehension he couldn't be sure.
"I... wouldn't enjoy it."
"Why not?" Antoine pushed. "Wouldn't it physically feel the same?"
Preston shook his hand free of Antoine's and glared at the other man. "Physically? That's one thing. But it's not all about the physical sensation. I'm not attracted to women, I'm not interested in women, and if you're asking me 'could I physically perform with a woman' then the answer is 'yes.' But I wouldn't enjoy it. It would feel awkward, wrong. Is that what you're trying to get at, Antoine?"
Antoine nodded. "That's exactly what I'm trying to get at, yes."
They walked on in silence a bit more, Antoine leading the way.
After several minutes, Antoine broke the silence again. "Hey Preston?"
"Yes"
Antoine rubbed his fingers together, and hoped Preston didn't notice. "Okay, bear with me. Imagine if you met someone who was perfect for you. Like your soulmate or something. The sort of person who made you feel complete just by being themself, and inspired you to be a better person because of that? The sort of person you couldn't imagine living life without. Are you picturing that sort of person?"
Preston climbed over a fallen log, following Antoine's lead. "Yes, I can picture that."
"Okay. Now image there's one small hitch in the plan. That this perfect person, your soulmate, the only problem is they're a woman. Then what do you do?"
Preston licked his lips and pushed his way after Antoine, up the sandy back towards the top of a rise. He said nothing.
Antoine, heart threatening to explode from his chest continued to push the issue.
"This is the perfect person for you, Preppy. You know it without a doubt; but it's a woman. What do you do? Do you decide to say 'nah,' and hope someone just as good comes along whose genitals match your preference? Or do you compromise everything you thought you know about yourself to make things work with this gal, knowing somehow, someday, you will have to consummate your relationship because she is just worth that much to you?"
Antoine offered a hand to Preston, pulling him up the dune slope to the top of the rise.
Preston was breathing hard, face flushed from exertion, and more.
"Antoine, that's not a fair question to ask me," he panted as he sat down on a tuft of soft grass.
"It's perfectly fair," Antoine replied, squaring his stance and looking out over the rolling barrens below.
"How? It's not even applicable. Is this what you dragged me out here to ask?"
Antoine stretched his arms up over his head, feeling the warmth radiating up from the sun-baked sand, their shadows lengthening behind him in the setting sun.
"Ah, gotta love Indian Summer," he remarked, trying to still the trembling in his veins. After a minute he turned back to Preston. "No, it's absolutely applicable." He gestured to himself.
"I don't follow," Preston confessed.
Antoine sighed heavily. "Look, Prep. I love you, okay? And you mean everything to me. But I'm not a sexual sort of person. And yeah, I've thought about the mechanics of the act; and yes, that time in Florida felt physically great... but there's that psychological component. Being intimate is more than the simple alignment of anatomy. And though I love you, and I want to please you in all the ways I can, the idea of sex is not something I'm completely comfortable with."
Preston said nothing, his expression unreadable.
Antoine shuffled his feet and continued.
"So, I guess what I'm saying is this: Right here, right now, you need to tell me the truth, because things are pretty serious between us in all ways but one. Would you be happy with me, knowing you'd be in a largely celibate relationship? ... Or, as sexuality is a normal part of human life, is it a necessary component for you in a long-term, possibly permanent relationship with someone?"
Preston started to answer, but Antoine held up a hand. "Because," he said, voice rough with emotion, "this is it. If you're not comfortable in a relationship with me, if it's not going to meet your needs, consider this your out: strings free, no harm, no foul. You can go about your life, find someone who truly fits what you're looking for in all the possible ways, and I won't hold it against you. But you need to tell me now. Which is it? Could you be happy with me? Or do you need more than I could necessarily give?"
Preston pushed himself to his feet, and folded his hands behind his back. He paced about the clearing, tracing his fingers over the rough bark of the pine trees as he passed. There was an urgency to his actions, an inability to sit still. "Antoine..." he began, and hesitated.
Antoine waited for Preston's reply. He realized he was holding his breath, that he'd knotted his fingers together. He forced himself to relax, breathe. It was like drawing in water. There didn't seem to be enough air.
"Antoine..." Preston repeated. He stopped and looked out over the gentle valleys below. "If you'd asked me this several years ago, I would've said 'no.' That couldn't be happy in a relationship like ours. But the more time I spend with you, the more I realize that I couldn't be happy without you." He turned and faced Antoine, rubbed his hands together slowly.
"If you're telling me, Antoine, that I could leave, and set out on my own, I'd have to reply that's not what I want. I'd rather be with you, and find ways to make it work, than try and recreate what I already have here with someone else."
Antoine stuffed his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. "So you're saying that you want to be with me? Even knowing what this entails?"
Preston gave an almost exasperated smile. "Isn't that what I just said?"
"Wanted to be sure, you know" Antoine mumbled in reply. Feeling like he was moving through a dream, fingers trembling, he slipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small box. Before a speechless Preston, Antoine dropped to one knee, and opened the box.
"Preston Alfred Tucci, would you do me the honor? Would you marry me?"
Preston's gasped, and covered his mouth. Out of all the things Antoine could've asked, this was the last he'd been expecting. He stared at the ring in the box, a gold band, inset with tiny gems, white diamonds at the center, then shading outward to yellow, and what appeared to be rubies at the edges. Like the colours of the setting sun in autumn.
Preston barely hesitated. "Oh my god! Antoine, yes!"
Unable to contain the feelings that erupted within, feelings that matched the colours of the gems in the ring he leapt forward, throwing his arms around Antoine's shoulders, burying his face in the man's neck, enveloping himself in Antoine's warm scent. He was aware they were falling backwards, Antoine caught off balance by the sudden embrace, and he didn't care!
"You big lug," he said laughing as he landed across Antoine's chest. "Of course, yes!"
Antoine smiled ear to ear. Ring still held in one hand, he wrapped his free arm around Preston and pulled the slim man into a passionate embrace. Lips touched lips, the feeling of Preston's evening stubble against his cheek. A gesture Antoine was familiar with between them; but he parted his mouth slightly, allowing more than a simple kiss on the lips. Tongue touched tongue. It was both terrifying and exhilarating for him. After a minute, the two men broke apart, Antoine wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still grinning.
Preston rolled to the side and drew his feet under him, knees of his jeans covered in the course, gold sand.
"Wow," Antoine panted, looking at Preston, wide-eyed. "Uhm, yeah. Wow!"
He deftly slid the ring over Preston's left finger. "Looks good on you, Prep," he said, pushing himself back and beaming proudly.
Preston turned his hand from side to side, watching the tiny gems sparkle. "It's perfect, Antoine," Preston finally managed to reply. He slid himself over and wrapped his arms around Antoine's broad flank. He nestled his head into the curve of Antoine's shoulder, closed his eyes, felt his housemate's arms fold around him.
"Thank you," he whispered against Antoine's cheek.
"Thank you," Antoine replied, holding him tight. It was an embrace Preston wished would never end.
Antoine, as if reading his mind chuckled softly. "Oh, Preppy. Remember, this is just the beginning." His hold tightened. "I'll never let you go."
"Why didn't you ask from the beginning?" Preston wondered as they walked back.
Antoine patted his fiance's arm. "Isn't it obvious, Preppy?"
"No," Preston replied, shaking his head. "It's not."
"Well," Antoine replied gently. "If I'd proposed to you right away you might've felt pressured to say yes. I wanted to make sure being with me was something you genuinely wanted before I put that sort of question on ya. I love you, I never want to make you feel pressured or forced. You've got to do what's best for you. But once you said you were okay with it, I had to ask. And," Antoine added, laying his head on Preston's shoulder, "thank you for saying 'yes.'"