Page 77 of Inside Out

“Life need not be easy, provided only that it’s not empty.”

~Lise Meitner

“Nothing worth having is easy. Surround yourself with love, not stuff.”

~Julius Shepherd

Neither of us said much on the ride back to the hotel beyond Rome telling Stevens where we were staying. I’d learned early on that Rome and I communicated in many ways that didn’t involve words. We could have an entire conversation with just our eyes, but my favorite form of nonverbal communication was touch. The firm way he held my hand in the back seat of the Mercedes said he didn’t want to be apart from me, the press of his hand to the small of my back when we walked through the hotel lobby said he claimed me as his own, and the tender press of his lips against mine in the elevator said he cherished me.

“I haven’t taken a bubble bath since I was a kid,” I confessed once the tub began to fill with fragrant bubbles. “I’m not sure I’ll like it.”

“It’s not a deal breaker if you don’t,” Rome said, letting his cape fall to the bathroom floor. He pulled his jacket off next and dropped it down too before going to work on his frilly, silk shirt.

“You’re a bit messy,” I said, pulling my polo shirt over my head. I folded the shirt and set it on top of the counter. “But I won’t hold it against you.”

“You’re a bit of a neat freak,” Rome countered. “But I can live with it.”

I crossed the brief space and replaced his hands on the fastenings of his velvet pants with my own. “I’ve been wanting to strip these off since the moment I saw you in them.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve been wanting to do this all night long.” Rome slipped his hand beneath the hem of my shorty shorts, ran his warm palm up my inner thigh, and cupped my package. I started hardening and lengthening once he began massaging me with firm, confident strokes. “God, I love how you respond to me.”

I pushed his pants down to his thighs then cupped his luscious ass, loving how he moaned. “I love how needy you sound right now.”

Rome’s response came in the form of a long, wet kiss that, combined with his fondling, made it nearly impossible for me to think of anything else except how good he’d feel wrapped around my cock. I could tell things between us were quickly heating up, and the conversation I wanted to have would soon be forgotten if I didn’t put the brakes on. Rome had said all the right things in the bathroom in Frank and Heather’s house, but I needed more. Walking into the lavish party was the first time I’d felt insecure about our young relationship.

I reluctantly broke our kiss but didn’t go very far. “I thought we were going to talk?” I whispered against his lips.

“So, let’s talk. We can do it naked in the bathtub so we both get what we want. Compromise, yeah? I will bare my soul, but I’d prefer to do it while wrapped around you. We can get everything out in the open and wash it away.” Suddenly, the idea of taking a bubble bath didn’t sound so ridiculous.

We stripped the rest of our clothes off and sank down in the bubbles. Rome, true to his word, straddled my hips and got as close to me as he could without burrowing inside me. His hands roamed over my body as he talked about a life and love that didn’t include me. It should’ve hurt me on some level, but his adoring expression and soothing caresses on my face, chest, shoulders, and back showed he was withme, not living in the past.Iwas his future. Instead of being jealous, I was grateful Rome had been loved so thoroughly.

“Our relationship wasn’t perfect, and we had our share of problems,” he confided. “We fought hard when we disagreed. Nothing physical,” he corrected when he saw and felt me tense. “Raised voices, a few slammed doors, and I spent many nights on the couch in our tiny apartment or in the spare bedroom once we purchased our house.”

“What kinds of things did you argue about?”

“The same stuff as everyone else. I know the heterosexual world would expect us to have a bitch-slapping throwdown over who was better between Bette and Cher, but it was always about finances, jobs, not having enough time together, and the biggest battle was over family.”

“He didn’t like your family?” The idea was a little bothersome since I was meeting them in the morning.

“No, he loved my family, and I adored his,” Rome replied.

“I’m confused,” I admitted. “Did you fight over where you would go for the holidays then? I’m sure it’s hard to blend families and traditions in a way that doesn’t leave a family feeling excluded or second best.”

Rome chuckled. “That wasn’t it either.” I could tell he wasn’t comfortable answering the question but there was no way I was letting him off the hook. I decided to wait patiently while he chose his words. “We fought about having children. That is the one area that I don’t think couples can compromise on without someone becoming bitter.”

Ah. Things clicked into place. I knew Rome wanted to be a father even if he hadn’t told me. I saw the dozens of pictures of his nieces all over his house, and he fussed over babies every time we came across one in public. He was dad material, and the idea of him never fulfilling that dream made my heart ache. “You wanted children, but Peter didn’t.”

“Yes,” Rome admitted. “I didn’t realize it at first. The idea of us adopting kids was so far out of reach for the longest time. Suddenly our gay friends are adopting kids or hiring surrogates, and I began to hope we would do the same someday.” Rome shook his head. “I was so caught up in my fantasies I didn’t notice Peter’s lack of enthusiasm each time one of our friends expanded their family until one night he exploded in our bedroom. We’d just come home from another baby shower I had dragged him to, and he was sick to death of baby talk. ‘I thought the whole point of being gay men was not being held to heteronormative bullshit standards. Marriage and babies weren’t in the cards for us. I was fine with that. Fuck! I even liked that I wasn’t constrained like my straight friends.’ I remember so clearly how angry he was. I was stunned because he didn’t seem upset about the commitment ceremony we’d had two years prior. Constrained? He sounded like our relationship was a prison. God, I was crushed.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, running my nose along his.

“He left on a long business trip the following morning. It was the first time he ever left the house without kissing me goodbye or telling me he loved me. I thought it was the end for us, but Peter called me once he reached his hotel room that night. He cried and apologized for hurting me and promised we would talk about it more once we got home. He said he was just afraid we would loseus, and I had to admit I’d already seen signs of it with our friends. We never had a conversation that didn’t revolve around their kids. I loved it, but Peter didn’t.

“When he got home, we didn’t talk about the big divide. Instead, both of us went on a mission to prove our point to the other. I tried to show Peter we didn’t have to loseus, and he tried to demonstrate that we were perfect just the way we were, and he should’ve been more than enough for me.”

“Exactly how did you two try to accomplish this? It sounds like a really bad rom com.”

“I started offering to babysit kids for our friends so Peter could see how much fun our life could be. Who didn’t like playing with Play-Doh and Barbies? Turns out Peter didn’t. I thought baking cookies with kids was fun, but all he saw was the mess left behind. As for Peter, he started taking me on lavish vacations. Every time one of our friends shared a picture of a kid on their phone, Peter showed a photo from our latest adventure. A few of our friends would remark on how jealous they were that we could just pick up and go when we wanted, or that we could have sex whenever we wanted. Peter would get this smug smile on his face and look at me like ‘See! They regret it.’ But every single time, our friends would smile and say they still wouldn’t trade places with us.”