wax wings: nine
Early February 2013
The mall
It’s sort of nice for them to just be able to hang around the apartment together at first and revel in the domestic side of their relationship. The first few weeks are a blur; they have a lot of sex between Alex’s ever-changing work schedule and Jack’s shifts on call at the hospital. After rearranging the furniture in the living room three times, Alex is finally happy with it. He nearly has a conniption when Jack moves the couch without permission and doesn’t put it at a right angle in relation to the wall and almost ends up making Jack sleep on the aforementioned couch that night. Luckily, Jack is pretty good at the whole begging for forgiveness thing. And just when he thinks he’s gotten out of having to shop for new towels, or as Alex calls them, ‘linens’, one fateful Saturday morning he ends up getting dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour to go to Bed, Bath and Beyond. He doesn’t ask what the ‘Beyond’ part is supposed to be selling. He doesn’t want to know. It appears to be soaps and body washes with frighteningly floral names and he hopes that none of those products are going to mysteriously appear in their bathroom like the magazine rack did.
The only reason he hasn’t bolted for the exit is because Alex is holding his hand. It’s still a novel concept for him, to actually be able to be out in public with his boyfriend without feeling guilty or having to worry about parents or neighbours with disapproving eyes. However, shopping for linens is about as interesting to him as watching grass grow, so he fully intends to just pick the first set of matching towels they find and be done with it. Alex squeezes his fingers and says, “We’re not just going to pick the first ones you decide you like. This is an important decision, goddammit. They have to match the rest of the bathroom.”
“Our bathroom is green, love. It’s not going to be that hard to find matching towels,” Jack protests. He finds a set of towels and holds one up. “Look, green!”
Alex makes a face and glares at him. “Those are chartreuse,” he says, looking scandalised. “Chartreuse is the colour of baby puke and it is not going in our bathroom. You’re lucky I haven’t made you get a new couch to replace that ugly orange thi - ugh, stop trying to distract me!” Jack smiles innocently at the elderly couple walking by them in the aisle and pretends that he wasn’t just sucking on his boyfriend’s earlobe in public. Alex grumbles, “You are the worst boyfriend. The worst.”
“Then just admit that you love that couch and I’ll stop.” The thing about Alex is that he mostly pretends to hate public displays of affection, but it’s hard to take him seriously when he blushes that hard and starts making little noises in the middle of the store that are definitely better reserved for... other places that aren’t in the middle of Bed, Bath and Beyond.
“Worst boyfriend ever,” Alex protests. “We’re here to buy towels, Jack, not have glorified frot in the middle of the store, okay? You can wait until we get home. Then we can fuck in the shower and make good use of our new towels.” He smirks at Jack and saunters off to look at different towels and Jack follows him helplessly, unable to resist the promise of sex with his boyfriend. Alex uses that a lot to bribe Jack into doing things he doesn’t want to do. It’s hard to resist Alex when he looks this fantastic so early in the morning.
Like the previous weekend when they spent an entire day trying to figure out how to build their new IKEA bookshelves because the English directions somehow got lost and neither of them reads Swedish. Or the weekend before that when Alex insisted on going to every thrift store within driving distance to find a pair of cheap lamps for the coffee tables. They’re slowly amassing matching furniture - much to Jack’s chagrin - and Alex has taken it upon himself to make the spare bedroom presentable so that Pete can stay with them on Alex’s weekends. It’s kind of cute, actually. At first Jack hadn’t been sure he would be okay with that aspect of their relationship, but every time Pete is in the apartment with them he just ends up feeling this huge swell of pride because his boyfriend is the best father ever.
He ends up letting Alex pick everything out. It’s easier that way and he’s basically guaranteed to be getting laid later. He’s sort of enjoying being one half of a sickeningly adorable couple, to be honest. They hold hands in the checkout line and steal kisses when no one is looking and sometimes even when they are. It’s a really nice feeling.
“Shit,” Alex says when they get to the register. “I forgot that Cass worked here...”
The name sounds familiar, but the relevance is lost on Jack. “Who?” he asks, pressing his lips to Alex’s cheek without thinking. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Jasey’s best friend. I really want that bitch to burn in he - Hey, Cass. How’s it going?” Jack doesn’t even try to make sense of his boyfriend’s sudden change in demeanour. He just pulls out his wallet and avoids joining in on the awkward encounter going on in front of him. Alex grips his hand a little tighter, if that’s even possible, and Jack can tell that there are about a million places he would rather be than standing here right now by the way he’s pressing his lips together and frowning a little.
And then Cassadee - Jack’s remembered who she is by this point - asks the question, and Jack feels like melting into the floor tiles or spontaneously combusting or something. She snaps her gum and asks, “So does your wife know that you’re, um... a faggot?” Jack has to bite his tongue so hard it bleeds in order to stop himself from spewing some very choice words at her. Alex goes pale and silent.
“We’re getting divorced,” he says very quietly. “I’m with Jack now.” Their receipt prints and Cassadee hands it to him wordlessly. Jack can practically see the disgust dripping from her fingertips; he supposes she expects him to kneel on the ground and kiss her feet for deigning to associate herself with two flaming homosexuals in public like this.
Once they’ve put everything in the trunk of the Audi, Jack wraps his arms around Alex and kisses him. He says, “I’m sorry people are assholes. You deserve so much better than that.” He kind of wants to make some heart-wrenching speech about how he loves Alex in spite of everything and how people need to grow up and get over the fact that some dudes marry dudes, but he can’t find the words and he probably wouldn’t do it justice anyway. Another part of him - a part which is growing by the day and frightens him with its intensity sometimes - wants him to get down on his knees and ask Alex to marry him right then and there, but he doesn’t. They end up making out against the car in the middle of the mall parking lot on a Saturday morning, and if they end up scarring young children and a few old biddies for life, then so be it.
When they finally get in the car, Alex turns to him and says, “Can you just find somewhere to park so we can fuck in the backseat? I don’t really feel like waiting until we get home.”
Jack says, “It’s too cold to have angry sex in the car, love.” Alex pouts the whole way home.
The mall
It’s sort of nice for them to just be able to hang around the apartment together at first and revel in the domestic side of their relationship. The first few weeks are a blur; they have a lot of sex between Alex’s ever-changing work schedule and Jack’s shifts on call at the hospital. After rearranging the furniture in the living room three times, Alex is finally happy with it. He nearly has a conniption when Jack moves the couch without permission and doesn’t put it at a right angle in relation to the wall and almost ends up making Jack sleep on the aforementioned couch that night. Luckily, Jack is pretty good at the whole begging for forgiveness thing. And just when he thinks he’s gotten out of having to shop for new towels, or as Alex calls them, ‘linens’, one fateful Saturday morning he ends up getting dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour to go to Bed, Bath and Beyond. He doesn’t ask what the ‘Beyond’ part is supposed to be selling. He doesn’t want to know. It appears to be soaps and body washes with frighteningly floral names and he hopes that none of those products are going to mysteriously appear in their bathroom like the magazine rack did.
The only reason he hasn’t bolted for the exit is because Alex is holding his hand. It’s still a novel concept for him, to actually be able to be out in public with his boyfriend without feeling guilty or having to worry about parents or neighbours with disapproving eyes. However, shopping for linens is about as interesting to him as watching grass grow, so he fully intends to just pick the first set of matching towels they find and be done with it. Alex squeezes his fingers and says, “We’re not just going to pick the first ones you decide you like. This is an important decision, goddammit. They have to match the rest of the bathroom.”
“Our bathroom is green, love. It’s not going to be that hard to find matching towels,” Jack protests. He finds a set of towels and holds one up. “Look, green!”
Alex makes a face and glares at him. “Those are chartreuse,” he says, looking scandalised. “Chartreuse is the colour of baby puke and it is not going in our bathroom. You’re lucky I haven’t made you get a new couch to replace that ugly orange thi - ugh, stop trying to distract me!” Jack smiles innocently at the elderly couple walking by them in the aisle and pretends that he wasn’t just sucking on his boyfriend’s earlobe in public. Alex grumbles, “You are the worst boyfriend. The worst.”
“Then just admit that you love that couch and I’ll stop.” The thing about Alex is that he mostly pretends to hate public displays of affection, but it’s hard to take him seriously when he blushes that hard and starts making little noises in the middle of the store that are definitely better reserved for... other places that aren’t in the middle of Bed, Bath and Beyond.
“Worst boyfriend ever,” Alex protests. “We’re here to buy towels, Jack, not have glorified frot in the middle of the store, okay? You can wait until we get home. Then we can fuck in the shower and make good use of our new towels.” He smirks at Jack and saunters off to look at different towels and Jack follows him helplessly, unable to resist the promise of sex with his boyfriend. Alex uses that a lot to bribe Jack into doing things he doesn’t want to do. It’s hard to resist Alex when he looks this fantastic so early in the morning.
Like the previous weekend when they spent an entire day trying to figure out how to build their new IKEA bookshelves because the English directions somehow got lost and neither of them reads Swedish. Or the weekend before that when Alex insisted on going to every thrift store within driving distance to find a pair of cheap lamps for the coffee tables. They’re slowly amassing matching furniture - much to Jack’s chagrin - and Alex has taken it upon himself to make the spare bedroom presentable so that Pete can stay with them on Alex’s weekends. It’s kind of cute, actually. At first Jack hadn’t been sure he would be okay with that aspect of their relationship, but every time Pete is in the apartment with them he just ends up feeling this huge swell of pride because his boyfriend is the best father ever.
He ends up letting Alex pick everything out. It’s easier that way and he’s basically guaranteed to be getting laid later. He’s sort of enjoying being one half of a sickeningly adorable couple, to be honest. They hold hands in the checkout line and steal kisses when no one is looking and sometimes even when they are. It’s a really nice feeling.
“Shit,” Alex says when they get to the register. “I forgot that Cass worked here...”
The name sounds familiar, but the relevance is lost on Jack. “Who?” he asks, pressing his lips to Alex’s cheek without thinking. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Jasey’s best friend. I really want that bitch to burn in he - Hey, Cass. How’s it going?” Jack doesn’t even try to make sense of his boyfriend’s sudden change in demeanour. He just pulls out his wallet and avoids joining in on the awkward encounter going on in front of him. Alex grips his hand a little tighter, if that’s even possible, and Jack can tell that there are about a million places he would rather be than standing here right now by the way he’s pressing his lips together and frowning a little.
And then Cassadee - Jack’s remembered who she is by this point - asks the question, and Jack feels like melting into the floor tiles or spontaneously combusting or something. She snaps her gum and asks, “So does your wife know that you’re, um... a faggot?” Jack has to bite his tongue so hard it bleeds in order to stop himself from spewing some very choice words at her. Alex goes pale and silent.
“We’re getting divorced,” he says very quietly. “I’m with Jack now.” Their receipt prints and Cassadee hands it to him wordlessly. Jack can practically see the disgust dripping from her fingertips; he supposes she expects him to kneel on the ground and kiss her feet for deigning to associate herself with two flaming homosexuals in public like this.
Once they’ve put everything in the trunk of the Audi, Jack wraps his arms around Alex and kisses him. He says, “I’m sorry people are assholes. You deserve so much better than that.” He kind of wants to make some heart-wrenching speech about how he loves Alex in spite of everything and how people need to grow up and get over the fact that some dudes marry dudes, but he can’t find the words and he probably wouldn’t do it justice anyway. Another part of him - a part which is growing by the day and frightens him with its intensity sometimes - wants him to get down on his knees and ask Alex to marry him right then and there, but he doesn’t. They end up making out against the car in the middle of the mall parking lot on a Saturday morning, and if they end up scarring young children and a few old biddies for life, then so be it.
When they finally get in the car, Alex turns to him and says, “Can you just find somewhere to park so we can fuck in the backseat? I don’t really feel like waiting until we get home.”
Jack says, “It’s too cold to have angry sex in the car, love.” Alex pouts the whole way home.