Good Enough for Me
"When am I going to meet this fiancé of yours?" I ask Carrie. She twists to look at me over her shoulder as I pin her dress. "You keep talking about him and I still haven't met him. Isn't the wedding tomorrow?"
She blushes. "Yes." She looks so excited, so happy. "But he can't see the dress before the wedding day, Tristan."
"I never would have thought you were one to stick to old traditions," I remark before stepping back. "I think I just need to pull in the bodice a bit and hem up the skirt half an inch. Once that's done, you're ready to walk down that aisle."
"Thank you, Tristan!" she exclaims excitedly. She twists around, trying to see the back of her dress in the mirror. I laugh and lead her into a room full of mirrors, made for this very purpose. She looks around, smiling brightly. "It's beautiful." An idea suddenly strikes her. "Why don't you come to our rehearsal dinner tonight? And the wedding? We have an extra seat, and you've been such a good friend to me."
"Let me review my feeble schedule," I say dryly. "Oh, sorry, tonight I have to watch Love Actually for the fiftieth time."
She swats my arm. "Come on. It'll be fun, I promise."
I sigh, but smile at her. "I'd be delighted."
I fiddle with my tie, feeling awkward. I don't know anyone at the rehearsal dinner, as far as I know, apart from the bride. I just hope that Carrie and I have some mutual friends, or I will be in for a very boring evening.
I take a deep breath and knock on the door to the rehearsal hall. It is flung open by Carrie who very energetically gestures me in. "Come in, dear!" she exclaims when she sees me. "I must introduce you to everyone."
"Oh, must you?" I ask mock plaintively. She giggles and pulls on my arm as she parades me around to her friends and family.
"This is Tristan," she tells everyone proudly. "He's the one who did my wedding dress. You should see it! It's absolutely exquisite!"
"Stop it, I blush!" I pretend to swoon at the attention, eliciting laughter from the assemble crowd. "Really, Carrie."
"Don't be so modest," she orders me. "It's not becoming."
"I think you could use some modesty," a deep voice says in an amused tone. I see an arm snake around Carrie's waist. She looks up and grins at the man.
"Sean! This is Tristan. Tristan, this is my Sean."
I look up and freeze. He meets my eyes and freezes as well. A moment that seems to take forever passes before we both break from our shock. I take the initiative and offer my hand.
"Nice to meet you," I say in what I hope is a smooth, unaffected voice.
"You too," he says, taking my hand in the briefest possible touch.
Because we've met before. Not that anyone around us notices the way we keep looking at each other; for once, I'm glad for alcohol. I guess that now we have to pretend we haven't met before when we have. Oh, we most certainly have.
"Hi, are you Tristan?" I looked up to see a tall, handsome man who looked hesitant. I nod and straighten.
"Yes, I am. And you are…?"
"Sean. I called about the roommate add."
"Right. I got your message." I gestured him in. "I hope you don't mind the mess. I haven't managed to tidy everything up."
"No problem," he answered, stepping in. "I'm a bit messy myself."
I later learned that that was a lie. But at the time, I just chuckled and we sat down to stare at each other. I broke the silence by saying, "I'm gay."
"I'm bi," he replied, not missing a beat. I nodded.
"Then we should get along splendidly." He grinned and agreed.
More than splendidly, I reflect as I stare at him from my seat. He occasionally glances in my direction, but tries valiantly to remain attentive to his fiancée. Neither of us can deny the attraction that is still there. It's hard to restrain myself, because I can remember what he used to do to me.
Sean had moved in with me, and I had learned that his claims about being a slob were false, as he was almost obsessively neat, even cleaning my room at times. Not that I minded, because I was too lazy to do it myself.
But life together was nondescript. We were two male adults in our mid-twenties, going to work, coming home, and bitching about it to each other. I guess we were attracted to each other then, but we didn't really notice it. At least, I didn't. Who knows what Sean was thinking.
That all changed one night when we went out to a club together. Friends teased us, calling us an old married couple. I guess we were kind of like one, but the fact remained that we both very much kept our distance, not wanting to complicate things by initiating a relationship, not matter how tempting an attractive man-lover might be.
But that night at the club, we both had a bit too much to drink. By a bit, I mean we were pretty trashed. I shed my inhibitions, and danced.
I have been told that I am a good dancer, once I stop being self conscious. Sean told me that when he saw me dancing that night, he got an instant hard-on. I don't know whether he was joking when he said that, though. I do know that all I had to do was dance for him and he instantly forgave me for whatever I had done, and we proceeded to have sex. Lots of it.
That night, I danced my heart out. The next thing I knew, Sean had grabbed me and dragged my out back, where he proceeded to ravish my mouth as he pushed me against the wall. I can't say I protested – Sean has always been one of the most attractive men I know. In fact, I believe I responded eagerly, arching into him and making encouraging noises that I knew I would regret come morning.
"Shall we go home?" he asked me when we parted to get air.
"Definitely." I grinned, grateful that our apartment was only a block away.
I can remember getting scandalized looks as we staggered back home, so I think we must have been essentially molesting each other in public – a thing I never would have done had I been sober. But we got up to the apartment somehow and proceeded to rip each other's clothes off.
That night, I had what is easily the best orgasm I've ever had – unrivaled to this day. I don't have much to say about that night, other than that my box of condoms was lighter by six the next morning.
As for the next morning, we were both exhausted and sore, but deliriously happy. It was then we decided that this had to continue.
He keeps glancing over at me. I guess it's because he knows I'm a vegetarian and the dinner is steak. I'm grateful that there's mashed potatoes and green beans, or I'd probably starve right now. That wouldn't be good.
But I decide to torture him. I slowly suck up a green bean, and I lick my lips, closing my eyes and moaning in delight. He swallows hard and immediately looks back at his own plate. I smile to myself before I mentally slap my hand to my head. What was I doing? He's engaged to Carrie, for Christ's sake! But I can't seem to help myself.
We dated for three years. They were three of the happiest years of my life. I have never been happier since we broke up.
Our break up was anticlimactic, really. If it had been violent and ugly, we wouldn't be flirting right now. We broke up because his company moved out to California and my job was here. We both agreed it was for the best, but I must confess that I was heartbroken. I missed him – still do – like I would a limb.
And now he's sitting across from me and I feel incredibly awkward. Throwing caution to the winds, I slip my foot out of its shoe and poke his leg. He glances at me, giving me that, 'Not now' look that I know so well. Very well. I slide my foot up his leg slowly. I hear his breathing catch, but he refuses to turn look at me.
"I apologize, I must excuse myself," he says suddenly, pushing back his chair. He fairly runs from the room. I sigh to myself, wondering what's turning me into this horrible, wanton creature, but I put my foot back into its shoe and excuse myself from the table under the pretext of making a phone call. No one cares or notices.
I know he'll be in the bathroom, so I locate it and go in. He's in the big stall, I'm sure. I knock. I hear his strained breathing and I sigh.
"It's me, Sean." He opens the stall door and looks down at me. "Sorry."
"Dammit, Tristan," he mutters, pulling me inside. "I'm getting married tomorrow!"
"Yeah, funny thing, isn't it?" I lean against the wall, watching him, very aware of the bulge in his pants. "You're getting married tomorrow. You came back into town and you didn't contact me."
"Because I knew that if I did, I wouldn't be able to resist you."
"Is that such a bad thing?"
"I want to resist you," he snapped. "I'm very fond of Carrie."
"But do you love her?"
He freezes and stares at me. "Why do you ask that?"
"Because you loved me once." I fall to my knees before him and unbuckle his pants. "Look, I'll just relieve you of this little problem, and that will be the end for us."
He pulls me up roughly. "I don't want it to be the end for us," he tells me harshly before pulling me to him and kissing me hard. I can't say that I fight it.
"You're getting married," I remind him once we part.
"I know," he answers. "Maybe I shouldn't."
"Carrie would be devastated."
"You'd know better than I." I sigh and wrap my arms around his neck. "I wish it wasn't so hard."
"I do too." He kisses me again, pushing me against the wall. I wrap my legs around him, hoping to hell that no one walks in on us.
"One last time," I whisper to myself.
"If there is any reason why these two shouldn't be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."
I debate whether I should say something. I either hurt Carrie or become 'the other woman'. Neither outcome is desirable.
Luckily, the decision is taken from my hands when the best man suddenly takes two steps forward, grabs Carrie, and plants a kiss on her that Clark Gable would admire.
The woman performing the wedding, a friend of Carrie's, I gather, grins and says, "Well, I guess that answers that question."
Everyone turns to look at Sean, who is laughing. Everyone seems a bit flummoxed that he's amused by this; by all natural laws, he should be beating the shit out of the best man, even if it is his brother. He turns his gaze to the crowd, searching me out.
"Tristan, get your skinny ass up here," he cries out. Those around me give a look. I sigh and make my way to the front of the church. And in front of God and everyone, Sean pulls me close to him and kisses me hard.
The four of us talk about that wedding often enough. Sean and his brother switched places, and the wedding proceeded as normal, except for the fact that Sean refused to let me go back to my seat. I can't say I minded, because his arm was around my waist and I felt immensely happy.
Carrie often apologizes to Sean, who in turn apologizes. Rich, Sean's brother, and I just give each other exasperated looks before kissing our respective significant others into silence.
It's good enough for me.
A/N: This was supposed to be depressing and sad. It turned out cute and happy instead. Le sigh.