The One With The Happy Ending
If anyone had asked me last New Year’s Eve how I imagined I would spend the end of the year to come, I can guarantee my answer would not have included dating Taylor, much less having sex with him. Even if I could have predicted the twisted and fucked up course my life would take in the twelve months ahead, I certainly couldn’t have anticipated how embarrassingly anticlimactic the result of the entire situation would be:
For all intents and purposes, nothing had changed.
In reality, plenty of things did change. For example, Taylor and I were touching each other–a lot–and I didn’t feel an intense desire to punch him in the nose. Aside from becoming physical, and now acknowledging as well as defining our relationship, though…nothing had changed. We still bickered like an old married couple, Taylor still annoyed the piss out of me, and I still took every opportunity to make a joke at his expense in retaliation.
We were in the middle of scrubbing down the bench of the private booth at Double Entendre when Taylor started being…Taylor. I was minding my own business, scrubbing the shit out of the bench per Ruby’s instructions, when Taylor sat down right where I was about to spray. I looked up at him from all fours, the suggestive position it put us in not going unnoticed, and raised one eyebrow. Taylor winked at me in response, making kissy faces. “Uh…can I help you?” I asked, confused.
“I just thought that before we clean the room, we could give her one last spin,” he winked again, running the back of his fingers over my cheek with a mischievous grin.
“Really, Tay?” I sat back on my heels, crossing my arms over my chest. “First of all, whatever that was right there, it wasn’t as sexy as you probably think it was. Second, Ruby damn near ripped our balls off for this, and you want to do it again?”
“What can I say?” he shrugged. “Seeing you on all fours got my gears turning, then the thought of how naughty it would be if we did it again…and, besides, I wanted to return the favor…”
I shook my head, my arms still locked in front of me. “Oh hell no,” I responded. “I love you, Tay, and I’m OK admitting that. However, nothing in this world would get me to willingly allow anyone to violate my body in that way–not even you.”
“That’s not fair,” Taylor pouted, his eyebrows furrowed in disappointment.
I sighed, looking down toward the floor. The idea that I might disappoint Taylor didn’t sit well, which added to my plight in more ways than one. Because being with Taylor had somehow turned me into a pussy, I found myself with an urge to say something to sooth him. I couldn’t bear the idea of lying or joking about it, so I offered the best non-answer I had: “All I can say is that’s how I feel right now. I might change my mind, but I might not. I just don’t want to promise something I don’t know if I can follow through with.” The confession felt awkward, despite the fact that I genuinely meant what I said, and I had to speak fast to get the words out before I changed my mind.
Taylor seemed satisfied with my political response and went back to getting the lube stain out of the carpet while I attempted to locate my testicles.
When I awoke on Christmas morning, the familiar aroma of Taylor’s homemade cinnamon rolls immediately greeted my nostrils. I opened my eyes, a smile already on my face, and hurried into the kitchen; I found Taylor leaning against the island in his dorky grandpa glasses and bathrobe, cup of coffee in hand. I watched him, silently, for a few minutes as he inhaled the coffee, and then as he took the first sip, humming happily to himself. He looked like an absolute idiot, and under normal circumstances, I would have pointe out so. It suddenly occurred to me that the reason I wasn’t pointing it out was because I found it endearing rather than fodder for witty one-liners.
I found it so endearing, apparently, that a giggle escaped my lips before I could stop it. Taylor turned, a smile appearing on his face immediately when he saw me. In return, I felt my cheeks grow hot. “You’re awake!” he announced, as if I wasn’t aware. “Merry Christmas! Let’s go see what Santa brought us!”
Any other time, I would have been absolutely annoyed by Taylor’s perky chirp at eight in the morning. Today, however, the only thing I was absolutely annoyed by was the fact that I wasn’t annoyed at all. I could do nothing but smile as Taylor gave me a quick kiss on the lips and then handed me a cup of coffee. I sipped my drink, following an excited Taylor into the living room. He plopped down in front of the tree–which had a suspiciously larger number of presents underneath it than the night before–and started dividing the gifts.
As Taylor went along, I started seeing the pile with my name on it growing at twice the rate of Taylor’s. I began to feel bad that I hadn’t thought to get him more than a few items, but hoped the quality of the gifts outweighed the quantity. I had never been a big gift giver; call me old fashioned, but I still believed the holidays meant something more than who spent the most money and gave the best gifts. I tended to give gifts with purpose, and that usually meant a smaller number, obtained from Goodwill.
If Taylor was disappointed, he sure did not show it. He squealed with excitement over the worn copy of Walden I had picked up from my favorite used book store, repeatedly thanked me for the griddle he had been hinting at for months, and I thought he might burst into tears over his favorite video game from childhood I found at a garage sale, of all places. My heart swelled with pride as Taylor flung his arms around me, gushing about how much he loved all of his gifts, and promised me pancakes as soon as I finished opening my presents.
The smile on my face wavered a bit as I surveyed the stack of gifts in front of me, the unease regarding my small offering edging back. Before I had a chance to say anything, Taylor handed me my first gift and suddenly I was filled with an overwhelming giddiness. Despite my general distaste for how commercialized the holidays had become, I couldn’t help feeling loved as I unwrapped all the gifts with my name on them, not once feeling guilty that each gift made me giddier than the last.
The smile stayed on my face through the dress shirt and sweater I never would have picked out for myself, the electronic drum kit I had been eyeing at Guitar Center, and even the gay porn Taylor had promised me. Taylor seemed to get nervous as I got to the last of my gifts, acting a little twitchy and just weird. Which, for Taylor, is saying a lot. He placed my final three gifts in front of me, advising me to open them smallest to largest, and not to say anything until all three had been unwrapped.
As I peeled the wrapping paper off the smallest gift, I became confused and terrified at the same time. Whatever it was, it was being held in a small, square, jewelry-type box. Swallowing, I opened the box, silently praying there wasn’t a ring–or any jewelry–inside. My eyes caught a glint of silver, and I inhaled sharply, the shape of a key taking a minute to process in my brain. When it finally did, I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and stared down at it, more confused.
“Don’t say anything yet,” Taylor jumped in. “Just open the next two gifts.”
Even though I had an intense desire to say something smart to him, I bit it back, giving him the benefit of the doubt. The next gift felt light and fluffy when I lifted it, and combined with the overall shape gave it away, and despite hopes that the gifts would make more sense as I went along, I found myself more befuddled by the pillow I now held in my hands. Shaking my head, I moved on to the last gift before Taylor could say anything.
This particular box was extremely large, and heavy. I managed to unwrap it, and free the flaps to open it. Inside sat an empty drawer that looked suspiciously like it belonged in Taylor’s dresser. “What is all of this?” I asked after a moment, unable to comprehend his gifts.
With what I could tell was every ounce of strength he had in him, Taylor puffed out his chest and announced: “Zac, I think it’s time we took our relationship to the next level. Would you move in with me?”
“We already live together, Taylor…” I said before his words sank in. “Oh!” I exclaimed, sitting back. “You want to…you mean…”
“I mean I want you to move into my bedroom,” Taylor filled in the blanks. “You basically sleep in my room every night anyway now, it’s the master, we could rent out your room for some extra money, and my room has a gigantic walk in closet I surprisingly have a hard time filling, ”
“Wait a second. What did you just say?”
“My room has a gigantic walk in closet I surprisingly have a hard time filling?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Before that.”
“It’s the master?” Taylor smiled, hopefully.
“Very funny.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “What the hell do you mean, we could rent out my room for some extra money?”
“Oh! That. I mean we could rent out your room for some extra money,”
“I’m not sure I want some random person living in my room, in our apartment…” I shook my head. “I think I would rather turn it into a guest room.”
“What if it wasn’t a random person…what if it was a couple of friends?” Taylor offered.
“…a couple of friends? Like who?”
A huge smile spread across Taylor’s face. “Cade and Eduardo!”
“What?!” I shook my head.
Taylor held his hand up to silence me, preparing what I assumed was an extensive list of reasons why having Cade and Eduardo move in would be a good idea. I tuned him out about thirty seconds in, sometime shortly after he mentioned carpooling to work, considering the option. I could only foresee broken or missing belongings and cat fights. Besides, dealing with Taylor’s manstruation was bad enough–I wasn’t sure I could deal with Eduardo’s as well.
“Tay, I don’t know,” I shook my head.
“Well…I kind of already told them they could?” he asked, rather than stated. “Please don’t be mad at me, I promise this will be epic!”
I closed my eyes trying to center myself before responding to Taylor; I might have put him in a choke hold otherwise. He was still going on about the benefits to having an additional two people in the household, and as much as I doubted this little foursome would work out, I couldn’t deny the fact that having all of my bills cut in half was a pretty awesome idea.
With the motivation of financial gain, I let out a deep sigh before I finally conceded. “Fine, Taylor.”
Taylor squeaked happily in response as he engulfed me in a tight hug. He plastered my face with kisses before jumping up and rushing into the other room, saying he was going to call Cade and Eduardo. I could only watch as he rushed off, every single roommate horror story playing through my mind.
There was only one way Taylor and I living with Cade and Eduardo would end, and it sadly did not look like it would be “well.”