It's been a year since Clay, otherwise known as Porkchop, planned the graduation event in Newport Beach. The event where a handsome Tyler Hamilton caught Clay off guard by kissing him. Clay, up until that day, had never kissed a boy before.
At 24 ye...
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HOUSEWARMING. It seemed fitting that Clay was running around our brand new house cleaning, decorating, doing the whole sha-bam while I ran errands. I went out to the grocery store with Clay's list of supplies for the food he was going to make (it boggled my mind how much he was doing for his own party, especially considering he was not only decorating everything, but he also planned on making like five dishes), and brought back like ten grocery bags. Of course, I only made one trip because I wasn't a weenie. Except my arms were falling off by the time I reached the kitchen and set everything on top of the counters.
I could hear the vacuum coming from somewhere, but I couldn't quite place it.
"Clay!"
No answer. All silence. Well, all vacuum.
"Clay!"
The vacuum sounded distant, like it was all the way on the other side of the house, or maybe not even in the house–
I turned my head towards the back door. The French doors were shut, but there was a chord plugged inside, snaked underneath the doors. The vacuum was, in fact, outside.
When I opened the doors and stood in the doorway, Clay was vacuuming the back porch.
"You know," I said, and Clay jumped at the sudden sound of my voice, "the wood out here probably doesn't need to be vacuumed."
He turned it off and propped it up. "I was gonna sweep it, but then I didn't want to. Vacuuming is so much easier."
"Wasn't the wood already clean?"
"Sure." Clay shrugged. "But I want it to be perfect."
I rolled my eyes. "It's already perfect. You know how I know that?" I walked over and stood in front of him. "Because you make everything perfect."
"You only say that because you're required to."
"I'm not required to. We're not married," I winked. As was typical, Clay blushed extensively. He was extra easy to make blush when I brought up the M-word. Which, though it still slightly freaked me out, was beginning to make my heart do a little gay leap.
Marriage was a whole thing. A whole ass commitment. I couldn't think about it too much, especially when Clay was standing right in front of me, and just saying the word 'married' made this entire swarm of bees erupt in my stomach. But like...
Yes, marriage was a whole thing. A leap. But we'd already taken this huge leap, getting a house together in Atlanta. It had been my idea, surprisingly enough. One bored outing on a week when Clay had been in New York for an event, and I'd stumbled across this house that was for sale. Something about it screamed out to me, so I parked my car, and I walked into the open house. And for some reason, it was like I knew Clay already belonged there.
It was simple. Pretty much everything in the house was white, and it was completely empty. A blank canvas I knew he'd have the time of his life decorating.
