The Story
By: KellyCRocker59
Part Five
Lightning and Gold
The chandeliers illuminated the ballroom, individuals talking in some circles, others snacking or sipping wine. A crystal sculpture of a lion was the hub, some women maintaining their close distance to the extravagant art, not daring to move more than several feet from the focal point.
Holden popped a small bacon-wrapped hot dog into his mouth, letting his tongue run across it, feeling the texture. He peered around the room, past knitted groups. He took a taste of his wine to clear his mouth of the aftertaste. He looked around the room once more, idly walking toward the center. A woman across the room caught his gaze and was receptive, but he turned away.
"Looking for someone?"
He turned toward the crystal lion. Standing with wine in hand, Sean wore a fashionable silver and white suit and a disarming grin. Holden smiled back.
"I didn't know if you would show."
"Of course I came; this is important to you, and I said I'd be here."
"Yeah, but with training camp and everything, I figured you needed your rest."
"Screw it. Besides, there's gotta be some rule against skipping your fiancée's charity banquet. I think I'd be sprinting to hell for that one."
Holden's brow furrowed and he nodded, tight-lipped. "Oh, surely. I'd like to think that's the standard measurement of who gets sent to hell: the number of charity banquets an individual attends."
"Then you're basically locked into heaven, aren't you?" Sean questioned.
Holden shook his head. "No, no, you're forgetting purgatory. That's far more tricky business. They actually weigh out the ratio of hors d'oeuvres to wine each person consumes throughout the night."
Sean suppressed a smile. "And only the ones with a ratio of 2 to 1 get into heaven, I'm assuming?"
"Oh, then they see how many cats you've taken care of; anyone can care for a dog, but cats are a much better measure of character." Holden allowed himself to break composure after that, Sean following suit.
Holden stepped closer to him, lowering his voice. "Between you and me, though; I'm glad you made it."
Sean nodded. "Of course, babe."
Holden smiled and then left him, walking across the room to the podium and microphone that had been set up. After a rousing speech that began a round of applause, Holden was wrestled into conversations with various donors, some affected by personal tragedy and others moved by his speech.
Sean spent the evening at a distance, observing the other man as he interacted with businessmen and socialites, lawyers and bankers. He drained his wine and ate a few deviled eggs without a sound.
"Sean Jackson?"
He turned toward a man who looked to be in his late fifties, grey-flecked hair and spectacles resting precarious on his nose. He thrust out a hand before Sean could muster a response.
"I'm Thomas Edgar. CEO of some business you probably don't care about. I just wanted to say hi; I'm a big fan."
Sean shook his hand, managing to compose his professional smile. "Nice to meet you, sir."
"What brings you to a businessman's charity? Surely your people didn't rope you into speaking at this."
Sean shook his head. "No, I'm engaged to the host."
The man raised an eyebrow as their hands separated. "Oh? That's interesting; I thought that was Holden Wilson."
"It is. He's my fiancée." Sean replied, jaw flexing against the words.
The man's eyes flickered to life. "Oh! I didn't…goodness, I suppose I should watch more Sports Center. My wife, she's always chatting over the games, I tend to just pay attention to the screen rather than the announcers. I'm such a busy man, I didn't even know that you were…"
Sean shrugged. "Not many people did until about a year ago."
"So you and Holden…you've been together for a while?"
"Three years now." Sean caught Holden's eye across the room as he was shaking someone's hand. He turned back to Thomas.
"Well that's very admirable of you. Doing the traditional thing despite not necessarily being everyone's idea of traditional."
Sean nodded. "Yeah, I figure if I like it I should put a ring on it."
Thomas nodded, unaware, seeming lost in his head. Sean balanced his weight from foot to foot, waiting.
"Actually, Sean, I…this is awkward, really, I just met you, but…I have to ask for some advice."
"Go for it, sir." Sean replied.
"My son. He loves basketball. He's getting recruitment letters from colleges and universities across the nation, offering him full-ride scholarships. He had a girlfriend in middle school, briefly, but…he never talks about women, not the way I did when I was his age. And we're close, as close as we can be given my job. I love him, I just…"
"Just let him know that. If I'm picking up on what you're implying, he's young and more than likely scared. If your suspicions are true, you just have to love him through it. I wish my parents had done that for me. Until then, just be subtle and if the topic ever comes up, find some way of letting him know it's not an issue for you."
Thomas nodded. "Yes. That does sound best. Sean, I...well, thank you. That's really all."
Sean nodded, and offered his hand. Thomas shook it with a smile.
"No problem, sir. I hope all goes well."
With that, Thomas was gone.
Holden would ask Sean on the car ride home what had prompted such intimate conversation with a stranger. Sean would give an ambiguous answer, because it wasn't really important anyway. Holden would let it go, twining their fingers together. Sean would smile to himself and run his thumb across the back of Holden's hand, vowing his life to this man.
Blank Page
Sean closed the door behind them, back pressed to the wood as Holden toed out of his shoes. He watched the other man, fingers tightening around the brass doorknob. Holden turned to him, hands on his hips.
"Well?"
"Well, this is it." Sean answered.
"It is, isn't it?" Holden asked, breaking out in a splitting grin.
Sean nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He fastened the lock on the door. "Do you feel any different?"
Holden shrugged, crossing the room and stepping up onto the bed. He bounced on the balls of his feet, seeming incapable of not smiling. "I feel sort of relieved, I guess."
"Why's that?" Sean asked.
"Well because now once you realize I'm crazy, you're going to have to file paperwork before you can get rid of me. And by then I'll have you tied up in the basement on a diet of chicken broth."
"You really are insane, Mr. Jackson." Sean replied, shaking his head.
"Mr. Jackson, huh? I like the sound of that." Holden said, furrowing his brow in thought.
Sean took that moment to cross the expanse between them in a run, leaping onto the bed with Holden. It took the other man by surprise, sending he careening toward the edge of the bed. Sean grabbed his forearms, steadying him with a laugh. Once Holden realized he wasn't going to die, his smile returned.
"This tie…it's too much." Sean began, letting go of Holden and working to free the accessory from his neck.
"Here, let me do it." Holden said, reaching forward and making short work of the tie, letting it hang around the other man's neck. "Better?"
Sean nodded, working down the buttons midway, revealing his white undershirt. Meanwhile, Holden shrugged out of his jacket, depositing it on the floor.
"Much, much better." Holden agreed, beginning to bounce again.
Sean leaned down, examining one of the pillows. "I wonder what these are made of..."
"Why do you care? I had stop you once from buying a pillow from Wal-Mart." Holden said, peering around their large suite.
"Well, because I wanted to know what would happen when I did this!" Sean spun around with pillow in hand and whacked Holden across the chest with it. Holden let out a loud 'oof' and attempted to grab Sean's jacket as he spun. Sean laughed like a five year-old, watching the other man as his attempt failed and he collapsed on his back on the king sized bed.
"Sean Jackson, you…" Holden began, huffing.
"Me what, babe?" Sean asked, bouncing on the bed with a twinkling in his eyes.
"You…get down here!" Holden demanded, yanking on the bottom of his jacket so hard that Sean's upper body bent all the way over and he fell to his knees.
Holden grabbed the back of his neck and pulled, bringing their lips together. Sean's hands settled on the other man's neck, thumbs caressing his jaw as he returned the kiss, closing his eyes ever so slow.
Sean huffed out a laugh as they pulled apart, pressing his face into the crook of Holden's shoulder. Holden joined in this time, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders.
"Can you…" Sean sat up, clearing his throat. "Can you believe this is our life?"
Holden shook his head, and when Sean looked him in the eyes, he lost the will to breathe. Holden reached up, pressing his hand to Sean's chest, over his heart.
"You and me, Sean. Forever."
Sean nodded. "Forever. I promise."
JOY
Joy was one of the least tangible emotions. Joy came and went so quickly, in unexpected and unplanned moments, escaping just as it came with no explanation. Joy could not be planned. Some people fight for a moment of joy, to be with a loved one for just one night. To hold their children at night. To finally be free.
Holden knew joy as the smile that greeted him in the morning. Joy to him was the feeling of callused hands staking their claim, of words whispered in the night. Joy was anything and everything that bound him to Sean Jackson.
This, though, this was not joy. This was life dissipating beneath his feet. This was the world itself lifting its guise and exposing anguish and pain he had never known. There was no joy in white walls and tears on linoleum tiles. There was no joy in the comfort of strangers or empty stairwells. There was no joy at all.
Holden began to realize that he would have to find a new form of joy, for what he had believed to be the heart of it had been drained of all the joy he could remember.