I opened the door.He hadn’t turned the light on, so neither did I.Lucas was kneeling in front of the toilet, his face sweaty, the arch of his back gleaming in the blue lamplight that streamed through the tiny window.His eyes glinted as they widened.He raised a hand to cover his mouth.“Don’t come in here,” he moaned.“I’m so gross!”
I handed him the water and sat down in the doorway.“I’d say you look ill, not gross.”
Lucas swished water in his mouth, spat it out into the bowl, lowered the toilet seat cover, and flushed.Then he sat back on his heels and closed his eyes.“Yup.This is great.This is definitely how I wanted my boyfriend to see me on the night before the opening of my first-ever exhibition.”
“And I’m sure this hasnothingto do with that.”I matched his sarcasm.Then I crossed my legs, ankle on knee, so that the heel of my foot faced Lucas.I traced the still-relatively-new scar there.“I believe we can both agree we’ve had worse experiences together in a toilet?”
Lucas laughed.Then cried.It was a familiar sort of crying, borne of nerves rather than misery.He laughed as he cried and used both hands to clear his cheeks of tears.“I’m so sorry, I’m such a mess—”
I scooted closer to him on the floor, one hand reaching out for his knee.He recoiled slightly at my touch but stayed put.“Did I ever tell you about the first comic convention I attended?”
“Did you spend the night before puking?”
“Oh aye, but I also spent the convention itselfundera table.”
His eyes narrowed, and his beautiful mouth quirked up.“You did not.”
“I most certainly did.”I inched forward so I could run my hand up his knee and gently rub his waist.“I waited until no one was looking, pretended to drop a pen, and just didn’t come back up.Honestly, I had to wait until everyone had left the hall before I could go home.”
“You are making this up, Demetrio.”
“You know me better than that.”I leaned in further, and Lucas nearly met me in a kiss, but then caught himself at the last minute.
“Armand, don’t!I’m disgusting!”
I sighed.“I’m sure you feel that way, love, and not to invalidate your experience, but you’reactuallythe loveliest creature on the planet.”I rubbed the back of his head, and he pressed into my touch, his body shuddering in relief.
“Armand.”His voice was muffled against my shoulder, and I pulled back to look at him.
Tears were clinging to his lashes; my throat tried to close.“Yes, love?”
He sniffled.“Thank you for telling me about ...about the convention.”
I focused on breathing.Inhale.Exhale.“O-of course.”
Eventually, I helped him stand up, and we took a slow, careful shower.Lucas brushed his teeth, and while we should have spent what time we had left attempting to sleep, we instead worked diligently to repair the damaged relationship between Lucas and his own body.At least, that was how I chose to think of it.
I wanted to keep him in that elevated space of transcendence, where there was no denying nor any reason to deny everything that made up the physical abode of Lucas Barclay.
But deep down I knew that very little of it was my doing.Ofcoursehe was euphoric.
You always were after purging.
We lay exhausted on a rumpled bed as the early birds began to sing, gray morning light seeping in through the window and the mist on the window cleaved by droplets of dew.I pretended not to wake as Lucas slipped out of bed and tiptoed back to the kitchen.To wash the evidence in the sink.
Lucas on Display
November 23
Though it had taken at least an hour to convince Armand to put on the “bloody monkey suit” I’d bought him, I was the one taking the most time to get ready.Perfection was imperative.I’d checked my hair twice, and I had to be physically restrained from throwing myself into the kitchen for some compulsive cooking therapy.
“What if everything goes wrong?”I whined to Armand, who was currently holding me tightly as a (semi-successful) method of keeping me still.“What if they decide the whole thing was a big mistake and they don’t want my pictures after all?What if—”
Armand’s lips quickly covered mine, cutting off my tirade.He kissed me gently for a moment before pulling back enough to whisper, “You look perfect as always, love, and you’ll be bloody brilliant tonight.”
I tried to take a calming breath, wondering briefly if I had time to do some yoga before we left.I was about to open my mouth to suggest it when Armand narrowed his eyes.
“No yoga either.We need to leave so the man of honor isn’t late to his own opening night.”
