exhausted.

“Do you want this new hazelnut stuff in it?” I shouted from within the kitchen. There was no answer. “Oh, thanks for doing my laundry. I went ahead and finished yours and hung them up. Is that a new sweater you got, that purplish one, it’s not quite your color?”

“Eh…?” he groaned through the couch cushion.

I soon finished the beverage and made my way back into the living room. I sat the cup on the coffee table and rubbed Bliss’ shoulders for a moment. I then sat down on the other sofa and resumed my magazine.

“Why’d you stop,” Bliss muttered, “that felt good.” He twisted around and managed to sit up and yawn a bit. He sipped the coffee. “Mmmm, not bad…what is this, hazelnut?”

“Yeah, remember we picked that up on our way home from Vegas…?” He stared at me blankly. “That little boutique that was like in the middle of nowhere?” Blankness. “Seriously, you don’t remember…?”

“Yeah, no, I’m just dumb right now. I totally remember. That little dog right?” He made a reference to the small Scottish terrier that was lounging on the counter in the shop as we paid for our things. We’d taken a trip to Vegas for Bliss’ 21st birthday. We’d shared a room and even been quite feisty while in the crowded Venetian. It was our only real flirt with public displays of affection thus far, and it was quite intoxicating. It is amazing what anonymity can do for one’s inhibitions. It was very arousing. It felt taboo, to have people watch as two relatively straight-looking and quite handsome young men fondled each other and groped, oblivious to anything or anyone else. We had a suite, courtesy of Bliss’ parents, and we messed the sheets quite a bit. I can only imagine what the maid was thinking when she turned the room over. We had just started making out and Bliss had slipped me out of my clothes when I eyed the doorway, which neither of us had realized was left open. The maid’s eyes were popped as she stood dumbfounded at the sight before her. I started to laugh and she closed the door. Bliss hadn’t even realized what was going on and it took me a minute to catch my breath and tell him. He didn’t believe me.

“I got that purple sweater the other day at the bookstore. My mom wanted a college sweater to show off at the restaurant, because I guess everybody misses me there. Oh, and it’s lavender by the way, not purple.”

Bliss’ parents owned two restaurants and as a kid Bliss used to hang around and cause trouble, though everybody cherished him nonetheless. Initially Bliss had wanted to go to culinary school, but his father put an end to that idea. He had been a cook in the navy and had met Bliss’ mother while stationed in Cyprus. Her family owned a small seaside restaurant and when he first saw her he knew, had glimpsed at once, his future as a family man. But despite his own success as a restaurateur, his life had never been easy and he’d wanted Bliss to get a degree and make something of himself. At first Bliss struggled against his father’s dominating ways, but eventually he would give up and do as was expected of him. Nowadays he just said that it was all a means for him to find me. I always blushed at this mention of course,