A RIVIERA WEDDING

Neil Plakcy

Aidan Greene lay back on the king-sized bed he shared with his partner, Liam, illuminated by a shaft of late afternoon sunlight. They had worked together at a job that morning, watching the trophy wife and small children of a Russian oligarch frolic on the pebbled beach at Nice. Since the wife was so shapely and attractive, and preferred to sun herself topless, the oligarch had specifically requested a pair of gay bodyguards.

It had been a hot, sweaty morning. Because he was so muscular and physically imposing, Liam had been assigned the more visible role, lying on a towel beside the family, wearing only a pair of tight bikini briefs. Aidan, dressed in baggy shorts and an extra-large T-shirt, had sat back at a table along the Promenade des Anglais, with his gun in a quick-release holster at his waist.

While Liam swam in the surf with the kids, then sunned beside the wife, Aidan kept a lookout for predators. By the time the family was ready to return to their hotel, he was drenched in sweat and irritated. Liam escorted the clients back to their room, and Aidan returned to their apartment to shower and relax.

Now, naked, he sat back against the pillows and thought of Liam stepping out of the ocean with water cascading down his tanned, muscular arms, legs and chest. His two gold nipple rings glinted in the sunshine, and his hefty dick was outlined against white bikini briefs. It reminded Aidan of the first time he had seen his partner, years before, when Liam had been showering naked in the courtyard behind the Bar Mamounia in Tunis.

Back then, Aidan had watched him with a combination of lust and despair. Such a handsome, sexy guy, with an air of confidence. Aidan, who was on the run from a bad relationship, couldn’t imagine having a chance with such a gorgeous man.

But then, after a wild ride through the Sahara, he and Liam had fallen in love, and Aidan had joined him as a bodyguard. Now, years later, they lived and worked together in Nice.

He reached down to touch his half-hard dick, running his index finger up its length, remembering how Liam had looked that morning, like a Greek god come to life. He closed his eyes and imagined Liam there beside him, how he’d turn to his partner and take one nipple ring between his teeth, and twist.

Liam would shiver and reach for Aidan’s dick. Aidan stroked himself as he imagined that touch. He lay there in the shaft of sunlight gently fingering himself until his dick began to ooze precome.

“Getting started without me?”

Aidan opened his eyes to see Liam silhouetted in the doorway. His partner had an ability, cultivated by years as a U.S. Navy SEAL, to move quietly when he wanted to. It was almost creepy.

“Well, at least I waited for you to get here.” He patted the bed beside him. Their little mixed-breed dog, Hayam, looked up from her place on the floor, then rested her head back down.

“I should take a shower.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Aidan said. “I love the way you smell when you’ve been out at the beach.”

“Well, if you insist.” Liam pulled off his T-shirt, revealing his narrow waist, awesome six-pack and beefy pecs. The gold nipple rings glinted dully in the light.

Aidan never tired of watching his partner strip. In the five years they had been together, Liam had put on a bit of weight around his hips, and his biceps were not as iron-hard as they’d once been. But even if that amazing body were to fall apart, Aidan knew he would still love the man inside.

Liam kicked off his leather sandals and stepped out of his baggy gray shorts. He usually wore a jockstrap, because he liked the way the cotton fabric cupped and protected his dick and balls, but that morning he’d skipped the jock in favor of the tiny bathing suit. As he skinned the white nylon down over his crotch, his half-hard dick popped out. He pushed the fabric down over his massive thighs and then let the suit fall to the floor.

Grinning, he struck a bodybuilder pose beside the bed—because he knew how much it teased and excited Aidan. As he did, he bounced his dick up and down a couple of times to stiffen it.

“Come here, you,” Aidan said, clambering over the bed until his mouth was level with Liam’s dick. Liam planted his legs firmly on the floor and Aidan reached out to cup Liam’s balls. Then he moved in closer and took the mushroom head of Liam’s beefy dick in his mouth.

Liam was a shower, not a grower; his dick was pretty much the same girth and length hard or soft. And either way, Aidan loved to take it in his mouth. Nestling his nose against Liam’s pubic hair, he smelled the combination of sun, sand, salt water and tanning oil, along with their lavender soap and Liam’s own unique musk.

Liam held his dick in one hand, and Aidan licked the fleshy pink mushroom cap. Then he stuck his tongue into the piss-slit as Liam jerked himself slowly, using Aidan’s saliva as a lubricant. Aidan focused on sucking the head while Liam stroked the shaft. With his other hand, Liam leaned down and slapped Aidan’s butt.

Aidan’s body jerked but he kept on sucking. Liam spanked him, first one cheek then the other, and Aidan rubbed his stiff dick against the bed beneath him. He squirmed and writhed as the heat built up on his asscheeks and in his dick. His pulse accelerated as he felt Liam responding.

He closed his eyes and whimpered as the orgasm built in his gut, and Liam’s body began to shake. Liam shot off in his mouth, one hand wrapped around his dick, the other on Aidan’s head, holding him down. Aidan came onto the comforter, then stayed in place for a moment, savoring the feeling of Liam’s dick in his mouth along with the exquisite pain of his sensitive dick against the cloth beneath him.

Liam took a deep breath and released his hold on Aidan, then stepped back. Aidan rolled onto his back, revealing the sticky mess beneath him. “You sure know how to put the ‘come’ in ‘comforter,’” Liam said, laughing. “Now come on, let’s get in the shower. We can’t be late for this wedding.”

“Not if we’re the best men. You start the water, and I’ll throw the comforter in the wash.”

As Liam walked out of the bedroom, Aidan thought he detected more than the usual swagger in the sway of his partner’s ass, and as much as he enjoyed seeing that ass naked, he was looking forward to seeing it encased in the handsome black tux he’d picked up the day before.

By the time he got to the bathroom Liam was already in the shower, and Aidan opened the glass door and stepped in beside him. It was a tight fit; Liam was six-four, Aidan a couple of inches shorter. Liam had always been brawny, and under his tutelage Aidan’s muscles had grown as well. But the close quarters just made the maneuvering more fun, at least in Aidan’s opinion.

Liam had already soaped himself up, and he pulled Aidan close, wrapping his arms around Aidan’s back and leaning in for a deep kiss. They rubbed their bodies together, the lather transferring between them.

Aidan raised his arms over his head, and Liam rubbed soap into his pits, then lathered up his dick and balls. Aidan turned his back and bent forward a bit, and Liam inserted a soapy finger into Aidan’s ass. He sighed with pleasure as Liam wiggled his finger around inside. “Gotta get you all cleaned up for your tuxedo,” he said into Aidan’s ear.

“Unless the tux has assless chaps with it, I don’t think anyone else will know,” Aidan said.

“I will,” Liam said, leaning down to nibble at Aidan’s earlobe.

Aidan turned back to face him, and they rinsed off in the shower spray. With his former partner, a bossy attorney he’d lived with in Philadelphia for ten years, Aidan could never have had so much fun in the shower. Blake wasn’t a very sexual guy, and their encounters had been limited to mutual hand jobs and the occasional sixty-nine, always in their bed. With Liam, Aidan’s sexual repertoire had expanded, and after five years living and working together, he still had an appetite for Liam’s body that surpassed anything else he felt.

Would that ever change? he wondered, as he and Liam dried themselves with heavy Turkish towels. Would the magnetic attraction he felt for his partner lessen, the frequency of their encounters diminish? Could he ever imagine finding Liam’s face, or the things he said, distasteful, the way he’d grown to dislike Blake in the years before Blake kicked him to the curb?

He hoped not. But there was no time for that kind of speculation; there was a wedding to start.

The wave of liberalization in feelings about gay people sweeping through the United States, from the demise of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell to the cracks in the Defense of Marriage Act, had mattered little to Aidan and Liam, in their former home in Tunisia and now in Nice. Liam had left the Navy under DADT, and had no interest in returning to active duty. And for the two of them as expats, there was little motivation to marry even if they could.

Their friends Louis and Hassan, however, were in a different situation. Louis, an American by birth, was ostensibly a cultural attaché at the U.S. consulate in Nice, though his unspoken employer was the CIA. His longtime partner Hassan was an architect and Tunisian citizen. The two of them had moved from Tunis to Nice soon after Aidan and Liam had relocated there, when the State Department had loosened its policies on domestic partners.

But they’d still been in a kind of limbo. What if Louis were transferred somewhere else? Would Hassan be able to follow him? Once it became legal for them to marry in France, after a change in the law regarding foreign nationals, Louis had proposed to Hassan, and they had asked Aidan and Liam to be their groomsmen.

It was going to be a small ceremony at a restaurant in the small hilltop town of St. Paul de Vence, followed by another back in Washington DC, to be attended by Louis’s family and his government friends. Then Louis could begin the paperwork to gain Hassan U.S. citizenship, securing their future together.

After they had accepted the invitation to participate in the wedding, Aidan had wondered if Liam would want to consider nuptials of their own. He’d known he was gay almost since puberty, so he’d never envisioned a wedding of his own, and he knew that Liam hadn’t thought of one either. In fact, Liam disdained the concept, believing that gay divorce would soon follow gay marriage, only making work for attorneys.

But Aidan was a romantic, and the idea of pledging his troth to Liam, in front of family and friends, plucked at something inside his heart. As he and Liam put on their tuxedos he wondered if he’d ever be the one up at the altar, with Liam by his side.

Which altar, of course, could be a problem. Aidan had been raised in Reform Judaism, and though he hadn’t been to a synagogue in a long time, he still felt culturally Jewish, lit Hanukkah candles and observed Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Liam had been educated by nuns and priests in Catholic schools. Though he wasn’t observant in any way, Aidan knew that religious roots ran deep in his partner, particularly in the formation of his moral compass. So they’d probably have to compromise on a civil ceremony.

“Where are my dress shoes?” Liam asked.

“I had them polished,” Aidan said. Neither of them dressed very formally, spending most of their work time in polo shirts, khaki slacks and deck shoes without socks. “They’re on the floor in the closet.”

He tied his own bow tie in the mirror, then turned to his partner. “You’re going to have to lean down.”

“Why couldn’t we just get clip-on bow ties?” Liam grumbled, as he bowed his head.

“Louis is your best friend,” Aidan said, as his fingers slipped through the intricate process. He’d often tied Blake’s ties; Blake liked the look of hand-tied bows but didn’t have the patience to learn himself. Aidan had taken care of that, along with everything else necessary to make Blake’s life run smoothly—and look where it had gotten him.

“Louis is not my best friend,” Liam muttered, his head down.

“If he’s not, then who is?”

Liam lifted his head as Aidan stepped back. “You are.”

“Fine. Then Louis is the best friend you have you don’t sleep with.” Aidan leaned back from Liam and surveyed his work, then tweaked one end of the bow. “You’re good to go.”

Aidan picked up the box of programs he’d had printed for the ceremony and followed Liam into their building’s garage. Hassan’s French was decent, but sometimes his accent interfered with what he wanted to say, and so Aidan had helped him with the details of the event—choosing the invitations, the restaurant and the menu, writing the program (in English and French), even joining him for a wedding cake tasting. Hassan, who had an impeccable sense of design (though a bit too Le Corbusier-modern for Aidan) had handled the decorations and the wedding outfits.

Liam drove them along the Promenade des Anglais until they turned inland at Cagnes-sur-Mer. It was a gorgeous day in late spring, with a scatter of thin cirrus clouds. Anemone, cowslip and wild jasmine bloomed along the roadside, and a field of lavender stretched toward the horizon. Aidan leaned his head out the window of the Jeep and Liam said, “You’ll mess up your hair.”

“Don’t care,” Aidan said, inhaling the country fragrance deeply.

The hilltop town, with its church tower the highest point, always took away his breath. It was so beautiful, especially with all the trees in full leaf. Liam pulled up into the garage at the entrance to the village, took his ticket and then pulled into a space. As he shut the car off, he reached out and took Aidan’s hand. “Are you happy?”

“For Louis and Hassan? Of course.” He opened the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

The restaurant was up a curved cobblestone street in an ancient two-story stone building, its doorstep so old that it had been smoothed by generations of village feet. There was also a series of stone steps that wound along the side of the building to the second-floor terrace, the railing hung with sweet-smelling honeysuckle vines.

They climbed to the terrace, which had views both toward the ocean and the foothills of the Alpes-Maritimes. The grooms stood beside the wrought-iron railings, their backs to the verdant hillside. Grapevines twined around a trellis above them. Louis, who’d be considered a bear by gay standards, filled out his pearl-gray tuxedo. He’d trimmed his dark beard into a devilish-looking goatee.

Slim-hipped Hassan was smooth-skinned, the color of a very light café crème, in a matching tux that he looked born to wear. After a round of hugs, kisses and handshakes, Louis asked Liam, “You have the rings?”

Liam turned to Aidan. “My PA has them.”

“I don’t care who has them as long as someone does.”

Aidan pulled the two ring boxes from his jacket pocket. He opened the first and checked the inscription, then handed it to Liam. He kept the other for himself.

The minister was a pleasant middle-aged Englishwoman wearing white robes and a gold sash. She directed them to their places beneath the trellis, then walked through the ceremony quickly. Louis and Hassan retreated to the restaurant kitchen for a few moments together, and Liam and Aidan took their places: Liam at the door from the restaurant onto the terrace, Aidan at the head of the staircase. They handed out copies of the program and directed the guests to the folding chairs facing the hills, which Hassan had decorated with swags of green and white ribbons.

The church bell tolled five o’clock, and the guests took their seats. The minister walked out of the restaurant, and a slim woman with a portable keyboard began to play a tune Aidan recognized as Pachelbel’s Canon in D. The restaurant door opened and Louis stepped out.

Aidan could tell he was nervous. He saw Liam put his arm around his friend’s shoulder, and the two of them walked across the stone patio to the minister. When they arrived there, Liam removed his arm from Louis’s shoulder and shook his hand. Then he stepped to the side.

Aidan turned to welcome Hassan from the staircase. He, too, looked nervous, but Aidan threaded his arm in Hassan’s and walked him forward. When they reached the front, he let go of Hassan, kissed him on each cheek and then stepped to Liam’s side.

The setting and the ceremony were so incredibly romantic that Aidan couldn’t stop smiling. The minister welcomed everyone and then turned to Aidan, who stepped forward and pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Using his best “teacher voice,” he read the 98th psalm, which ended with “Let the sea roar, and all that fills it; the world and those who live in it. Let the floods clap their hands; let the hills sing together for joy at the presence of the Lord, for he is coming to judge the earth. He will judge the world with righteousness, and the peoples with equity.”

He had scoured the Bible and a dozen or more gay wedding websites, looking for a blessing that might be appropriate, and he loved the reference to sea and hills, and the reference to righteousness and equity.

There was an appreciative murmur from the crowd when Aidan finished. He folded the paper again and stepped back to Liam’s side.

The minister thanked him and then turned to Louis. “Your vows?” she asked him.

Louis held his hands out to Hassan, who took them. “Hassan, I have loved you since the first time I saw you. If you will do me the great honor of becoming my husband I promise to love you and care for you, wherever our lives take us, in sickness and in health, in good fortune and ill.” His voice quavered, and he looked on the verge of tears. Aidan could see him take a deep breath when he finished.

The minister turned to Hassan and smiled.

“Louis, when I felt darkness all around me, you brought me light.” His English was heavily accented, and his voice quavered as much as Louis’s. Aidan loved the way he elongated the s at the end of Louis’s name.

“You have been the steadying force in my life, and your love has helped me become the man I have always wanted to be. I promise to stand by your side, to hold you and love you and bring you as much joy as you have brought me.”

Aidan fished in his pants pocket for a tissue and dabbed at his eyes. Then he turned to Liam and smiled, squeezing his hand. Liam smiled back at him.

Louis and Hassan turned to face the minister. She said, “In light of the vows you have made, in the sight of the company here assembled to witness them, and in accordance with the laws of France, I hereby proclaim you married partners.” She turned to the audience. “Please join me in a blessing of this union. From the first book of Samuel: ‘Jonathan became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself. And Jonathan made a covenant with David because he loved him as himself.’ Let us pray that Louis and Hassan shall be as David and Jonathan, one in sprit and one in love. And then let us say, ‘Amen.’”

The crowd joined her. Then she turned to Louis and Hassan. “As is the custom around the world, please seal your union with a kiss.”

Louis and Hassan leaned toward each other. Then Louis put his hand behind Hassan’s head and dipped him low, kissing him deeply, and the audience applauded. Everyone stood, and while a server passed around flutes of champagne, others moved the chairs around tables and brought out platters for a buffet. It was all lovely, and Hassan and Louis couldn’t stop holding hands and smiling.

By the time the sun finally set over the hills, only Aidan and Liam were left at the restaurant with their friends. “I can’t thank you enough for everything,” Louis said. “Without Aidan’s help planning we might have had a disaster.”

“Is this a trial run for your own wedding?” Hassan asked mischievously.

“You forget, we both have U.S. citizenship,” Liam said. “So it’s not necessary for us.”

“The citizenship issue isn’t the reason we got married,” Louis said, with a twang of tension in his voice. “It’s icing on the cake, sure. But the real reason is that Hassan and I love each other, and we want to share that with our friends and families.”

Aidan knew that Hassan’s family disapproved of his sexuality, and none of them had flown to France for the ceremony. But he also knew that many gay men had families of choice rather than birth, and he was happy to be part of their circle.

“And I love you, too, habibi,” Hassan said, using the Arabic for sweetheart. They hung behind to settle the bill with the restaurant, and Aidan and Liam walked back down the hill to the garage.

Aidan waited until they were in the car to say anything. “That was rude, you know,” he said as Liam drove through the gathering darkness. “To assume that they got married just so Hassan could get citizenship.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? They wouldn’t have bothered with a stupid ceremony otherwise.”

“I thought it was romantic,” Aidan said. “Not stupid at all.” He turned toward the window so that Liam wouldn’t see the tear that had formed in the corner of his eye.

“You know how I feel,” Liam said. “Marriage is for straight people. We don’t need a piece of paper or overpriced jewelry to justify our love.”

Liam had never been shy about voicing his opinion about gay marriage. He cited studies that indicated men were biologically driven to spread their seed to multiple partners, to perpetuate their DNA. When Aidan countered, asking then for the biological basis of homosexuality, Liam said that it was Mother Nature’s way of birth control.

The topic infuriated Aidan, who believed in romance, in monogamy and the chance to have a big party, so he usually avoided it. But at the wedding, when he’d tried in his mind’s eye to see himself and Liam standing there together, he had realized that it was never going to happen. There were too many obstacles, from their different religious backgrounds to Liam’s staunch opposition.

That, even more than the romantic sight of Louis and Hassan pledging to each other, was what had made him cry at the ceremony. He knew it was childish, like throwing a tantrum after seeing a toy he wanted but couldn’t have. And the logical part of his brain said that if what he really wanted was to get married, then he had to find a man who would marry him. If Liam wasn’t that man…

And yet, Aidan felt more fully himself with Liam than ever before, with or without a partner. Liam challenged him to grow in ways that Aidan knew he needed to. He showed Aidan his love every day, from the bedroom to the job to the briefest of glances. He was fiercely protective of Aidan, and always grateful for the way Aidan had rescued him from a self-imposed solitude.

Where was the solution? Neither of them spoke for the rest of the ride home. Aidan took Hayam out for her late night walk, and when he returned, Liam was propped up in bed with the top sheet pulled up to his waist, his reading glasses on and a personal protection journal in his hands. Aidan remembered that the comforter was in the washer and needed to be dried; would they be able to sleep without it?

He was thinking of that as he walked to the closet and began taking off his dress shoes. Behind him, he heard Liam put the glasses and the magazine on the bedside table. “You know that I love you,” Liam said.

“Of course,” Aidan said, as he hung up the tuxedo jacket. He would return the rented suits the next day. “And I love you.”

“Then why isn’t that enough? Why can’t we make our own private commitment to each other and be done?”

Aidan stepped out of his slacks and hung them neatly. He turned back to Liam in his tuxedo shirt, still held together by fake mother-of-pearl studs.

“I don’t know, Liam.” Aidan kept his head down and began trying to undo the studs, but his hands wouldn’t work.

Liam stood up. He was naked, and his dick was curled up, resting in the nest of his pubic hair. He reached over and gently began undoing the studs from the shirt. “Is it that important to you?”

Aidan looked up. “I thought that Blake and I would be together forever,” he said. “But all it took to destroy our relationship was one bad day. He told me to get out, I packed a bag and I was on a plane that night.”

Liam slipped the shirt from Aidan’s shoulders and tossed it into the laundry hamper. “I won’t ever do that to you,” he said softly. “I’m not Blake Chennault, and you don’t need a piece of paper to hold onto me.”

He took Aidan’s face in his hands. “Do you know that every morning I thank God for Blake?”

Aidan looked in his brown eyes, which seemed so deep and loving. “Blake? Why would you thank God for him?”

“Because he sent you to me,” Liam said. “If he hadn’t been such a jerk, you might still be in Philadelphia with him, instead of here with me.”

Aidan leaned forward and kissed him, blinking back tears. His stomach churned with emotion and he wrapped his arms around his partner’s smooth back. Liam pulled back and smoothed a lock of hair from Aidan’s forehead. Then he stepped back, and lowered himself to one knee.

He reached for Aidan’s hand. “Aidan Greene, will you marry me?”

It was so not what Aidan was expecting that he stood there openmouthed. He looked down and saw Liam’s dick unfurling and suddenly the churning feeling in his stomach was gone, replaced by a lightness.

“I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life beside you.” Aidan reached down for Liam’s hands and tugged him upward.

As Liam stood, Aidan continued. “I appreciate that you are willing to marry me because it’s important to me, even though it’s not something you’d ordinarily do.” He leaned up and kissed Liam’s lips lightly. “But if we marry someday, it will be because we both want to, for ourselves as well as for each other.”

“Is that a no?” Liam asked.

Aidan shook his head. His heart was racing and his dick was stiff, but he’d never been more sure of something. “Consider it a kind of promissory note. When the time is right, I’ll say yes.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Liam said.

Aidan smiled wickedly. “You know, a note like that is usually accompanied by a good faith deposit.” He stepped back and dropped his shorts, his stiff dick bouncing against his abdomen. Liam was hard by then, too. Aidan sat on the bed, then leaned back against the pillows and raised his legs. “First National Bank of Aidan, now open for deposits.”

Liam laughed. “You are crazy, but in a good way. I’ll be right back.”

He returned from the bathroom a moment later holding a bottle of lubricant. They had long since stopped using condoms, after they were confident they were healthy and committed to monogamy.

Liam squeezed a dollop out and stroked his dick, smiling lasciviously at Aidan. Aidan felt as horny as he’d ever been, desperate to feel his lover inside him. He pulled apart his asscheeks and Liam stuck his gooey index finger inside him.

Aidan groaned with pleasure as the cold lube warmed inside him, and Liam’s long, rough finger snaked its way up his channel. “Oh god,” he groaned.

Liam looked up at him. “You can just call me Liam.”

Aidan swatted him on the shoulder. “Focus, baby. I want you in me.”

“All things come to he who waits,” Liam said, but he pulled his finger out and positioned his dick at Aidan’s hole.

His powerful muscular thighs gave him incredible control when it came to ass-fucking. He moved into Aidan, centimeter by centimeter, and Aidan thought he couldn’t take any more of Liam’s beefy dick. And then he took more, until the head of Liam’s dick was nosing against Aidan’s prostate. Then Liam pulled back ever so slowly.

Aidan felt his emptiness reverberate through him, until Liam entered him again, this time moving a bit more quickly, gradually building his rhythm so that every thrust rubbed against Aidan’s channel and banged into his prostate, and he was squirming on the bed, whimpering and moaning. His dick was so hard it hurt, and precome streamed down from the head, but he didn’t touch himself. Liam had such awesome control of his body that he was able to sense when his orgasm was rising and then pull back, slow down until the impulse passed and then begin again.

Aidan didn’t know which he wanted more, to ejaculate himself, or to feel Liam shoot off in his ass. Finally, though, he could feel Liam give in to his impulse, and Liam wrapped his rough palm around Aidan’s dick and jerked him just a couple of strokes. “Come on, baby, come for me,” Liam said. “Drive me over the edge.”

Aidan was only too happy to oblige. He shot off in Liam’s fist and a moment later felt Liam slam into his ass and the hot spurt of come inside him. Liam stayed inside him until his dick had stopped pulsing, and then he pulled out carefully and flopped over onto his back.

“That was amazing,” he said.

“I guess you should propose every day,” Aidan said.

Liam laughed. “If that’s what it takes to make you happy, sweetheart, consider it done.”

Aidan curled against Liam, his head resting on his partner’s chest, and Liam reached his arm around Aidan’s shoulders. Aidan knew that he ought to get up, clean up, put the comforter in the dryer, take the dog out for her late-night walk—but for that moment, all he wanted to do was lie in the arms of the man who loved him, and whom he loved.