The needle of Gerard's record player distracted me only slightly as my fingernail took a left turn and wrecked the rillo as I was splitting it. Cursing Bowie under my breath, I hitched my lip into my teeth attempting to figure out way that just may work. Nights like this on our patio were amazing. Lit up by the grape shaped string lights, surrounded by green plants that smelled of honey and fresh rain, and contained in white iron chairs we had found our happy place. Dwelling surrounded by all of our favorite things. Coexisting and creating amazing things that had brought us so much more happiness than we ever expected to be. Curling my tongue around the paper making the taste of blueberry swishers course through my mouth like a sea of bitter sweetness. The sounds of my husband singing along to David Bowie as if his heart depended on it as he prepared each of us a plate of dinner fell out of the window behind me. The air in California crisp, clean, and salty over my skin. Wearing an old pair of Gerard's sweats cut off at the knee and some tourist shirt I had bought on a beach date gone wrong pure bliss began to settle in. It was moments like this of pure clarity into my life and self that I found I was so much more thankful for the abundance of perfection I had. The gentle slam of the back door closing no doubt with the use of his hip I waited for his affectionate laugh to fill the air or a descriptive depiction of some kind of clumsy move he had just committed while transferring the dinner into bowls. The clank of porcelain hits the glass table like the pangs that sound in my heart when he goes away for business or for a comic book business.
"I may or may not have spilt a scoop of pasta on the floor, and Sweet Pea may or may not have gotten two dinners." he laughed his giggles stuttering out of his lips making me choke down onto my tongue trying to stop the almost inevitable moment of sucking a mouthful of little buds out of the rillo. Twirling my tongue around the flavor of laughter and wayward pieces of pot my lips cracked into a smile my jaw almost creaking in exhaustion from feeling obligated to stay open in such way almost every hour of the day. An action not hard to achieve around one of the single most hilarious person alive. "If you don't hurry up and roll that blunt, i'm going to take it from you and finish it myself." Gerard chuckled out twirling his fork in his bowl deep enough for small sounds of scraping metal to fill my ears as I held in a fit of hysteria and fought the douche bag from my high school years to surface.Unsuccessfully I laid the half rolled blunt back onto my rolling tray and turned my head to connect my eyes with his before narrowing them toward him with a smirk.
"Oh baby i've seen the blunts you roll, and princess you can't roll worth shit." my wise ass cracked bringing the contraband back to my lips and flicking my tongue between the two sheets of paper and sealing it down with my right pointer fingertip. Pulling it to eye level I flicked my lighter on and began to bake the seams as if this blunt was meant to be the master of all. "Now sugar, would you like to blaze it up. Or should I do the honor?" I asked turning my head back toward him with the same fuck boy facial expression etched across my goofy face. Shaking his head with pursed lips he took a bite of his pasta dramatically. My thumb stroking down the lighter igniting its flame and centering the blunt into the fiery abyss. The smoke filling the air quickly, and coaxing my mouth into a large inhale my head dipped backward holding the smoke into my lungs savoring the small burn, and enjoying the gentle tingles already turning down my arms. That's one thing about California you never have to deal with Reggie. It was kush, top shelf shit always. Among the ebony haired love and that I could dwell on the west coast forever. Taking another quick hit I laid my left arm out toward my husband refusing to open my eyes. Savoring the way my lungs were starting to run out of air begging to exhale and replenish. I heard his small coughs pouring out as always. My Gerard a living contradiction, a man with lungs of steel that I had seen many times polish off a pack of Marlboro Reds in 2 hours. However with the slightest touch of pot his lungs lunged upward out of his chest heaving back down making the coughs that filled my ears. "You have bitch lungs." I chuckled at him while taking a bite of my dinner. The pasta an old recipe from my nonna, that she called pigra. Just some pasta, butter, spinach, and herbs stirred together and thrown in a bowl for unwanted guests or a husband in a dog house. However growing up it had always been my favorite meal regardless of the connotation that surrounded it. Passing the blunt back to me feeling a sense of deja vu as my head tipped back once more as I inhaled. We continued our fingers brushing against one another as we passed it back and forth the munchies, and the giggles hitting like a home run with two knockouts all inside of our body.
"Come to bed with me." he begged as the sun set over the hills behind our house making the air drop in temperature and my uncovered legs spring up with goosebumps that I continued to ignore. Ignoring them was easy when the goosebumps that Gee created even after all these years were hard to tell once blended. Leaning toward him my lips pressed to his lightly as if testing waters that needed no tow dip. His tongue graced my lips pushing his way in and showing his intention. My cockiness was definitely going to be put into check tonight. A challenge that i was up for, and a side of him I was more turned on than words could explain to see.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
**The above photo is my real life heaven that I gave to the boys to use in this version of their happy ending**
