Epilogue - All's Well That Ends Well
Miguel shifted his body wearily, caught in the half-land between waking and sleeping. He frowned, feeling wakefulness creeping up on him. He didn't want to wake up. He was having a wonderful dream. He could already feel it slipping away from him, and he struggled to catch on to any part of it that might help him remember. He knew it was about Tulio - most of them were, nowadays.
He sighed as the last snatch of it slithered away from him, irrevocably lost. Readying himself to face another day, he opened his eyes.
And had to put a hand to his mouth to keep himself from crying out in relief.
Tulio was there, lying next to him. That in itself wasn't horribly unusual, but this time it was different. This time Tulio had his arm slung casually but possessively around Miguel's waist. And they were both quite nude.
Miguel smiled, closing his eyes again. He felt as though he might cry. It wasn't a dream after all. Tulio had said that he could be with him. Not a dream. A miracle, perhaps, but not a dream.
Miguel contemplated continuing to lie there with Tulio on the cushions of Chel's back room, but regretfully decided against it. By the look of the light through the tent, it was already well into the daytime. And besides that, Miguel noticed with a blush, they were both rather... sticky.
Finding a blanket, Miguel wrapped it about himself toga-style and made his way into the front of the tent.
Chel was sitting there, awake and fortunately sans customers. She grinned at him as he entered and motioned for him to sit next to her. With a moment's hesitation, he did so, blushing again as she raised an eyebrow at his current state.
"So..." she said eventually. "You two were pretty loud last night. I take it things worked out?"
Miguel smiled, managing not to blush, feeling more like himself than he had in weeks. He even managed to summon a cocky, the-hell-with-everything grin. "Yes. Quite." He paused, suddenly unsure of himself and looked at her carefully. "You're not... mad, are you?"
Chel rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Think for a second Miguel. If I didn't want you to be with Tulio, then why would I have set you two up?"
Miguel thought about this. It was quite logical. He nodded. "Well, I guess you have a point there. Does that mean that we have your blessing?"
Chel grinned. "Without question."
Before she could say more, the back flap opened again and Tulio stepped in to join them, very much sans clothing. He moved over to Miguel and kissed his neck leisurely, breathing in his scent. "Morning," he mumbled. He flopped down next to them, grinning at Miguel and eyeing his blanket. "That's a good look for you."
Chel turned her raised eyebrow to Tulio now, giving him an unblushing once-over. "Which is more than I can say for you. Where's your decency? There are women in the room you know."
"I know that, but I figured Miguel's not that squeamish," Tulio quipped.
Miguel reached over and hit Tulio in the head with a pillow. Chel giggled at their antics, and was promptly hit in the face with a pillow from each of them.
After the short but rowdy pillow fight that followed, the three of them sat panting amidst the turquoise and gold pillows, laughing and grinning like idiots.
"Come on," said Chel once she had her breath back. "We're all sweaty now, and I know just the place we can go to clean off. Besides," she smiled knowingly at them, "I imagine you two could have used a shower even before our impromptu little battle."
"Well," said Miguel nonchalantly, "I did wake up rather sticky this morning."
Now it was Tulio's turn to look embarrassed. But he recovered admirably. "Yes, well. Hm. Let's go get clean then, shall we?"
"Follow me," said Chel, stepping through the front of the tent.
The two men got up to follow her, Tulio snagging a blanket to cover himself on the way out. Just before they exited the tent, Tulio gave Miguel another quick kiss.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I know." Miguel smiled. "I love you too."
Together, they walked out of the tent.
Oh God, that was hideous. Take me back.
or
Oh God, that was hideous. Let me complain to the author.