#drabble incoming soon at january

[hakkyoken]

"jus wanna let ya know someone was looking for you and they gave me wicked bad vibes. ... Keep in mind I'm from a penal death world, so ya know bad vibes sensing ain't gonna be great."

“Wicked bad vibes? Only Zaraki of my world had that trait.” Nanao wondered who could that be? Someone from her world, perhaps? She will need to meet this shinigami herself when the time which is anytime. Tina is Nanao’s friend and she can’t afford to see those she cared in danger.

“I see. Different worlds comes in different places, so i understand that it’s not great to feel things were highly tense. I’ll meet with them.”

[artificialqueens]

Supersonic; Valentine Special - Shadyqueenie

A/N: Valentine’s special for you, honeys! This was supposed to be posted on the 13th but at the beginning of the month I got ill, and then exams came up and I ended up being late [also, thank you G for being so supportive!] Hope you’ll still like it! Kisses! Your Duh, Shady ✨ ☆*ヾ(-∀・*)*+☆

What were the Supersonic Universe’s couples doing on Valentine’s day? Supersonic – Valentine Special is a collection of four drabbles featuring the couples that appeared in the previous chapters. It’s a sort of recap while I’m looking for new inspirations (: [I had to change some FW’s dates because I had some ideas and I needed some characters to be as far away from the City as possible… Hope you won’t mind ;)]

▶ Pearlet – Stars Are Falling and So Are You ( read the story here )

Milan, 6.47p.m. Bar Luce was the place Violet enjoyed the most while she was in Milan. Maybe it was the atmosphere, the colors – or anything in between… All that Wes Anderson allure that made her believe she was the main character in his next movie. It let her mind wander as she watched people in old fashioned clothes chatting, enjoying their drinks or simply writing their thoughts in black Moleskines. She was sat properly and played with the straw in her drink with annoyance when someone recalled her attention. “Sorry, I’m late” Matt started, sitting right in front of her “Did I make you wait for long?” he must have been running, since he was slightly painting. Violet shrugged and raised a hand to call a waiter “Almost no one makes me wait, it was awkward” Matt smirked as he was looking for a proper answer, but he was stopped by the waiter that asked with a very strong Italian accent “What can I get you?” The man didn’t even had time to think about it “Whatever she has” he replied shortly. He didn’t want to waste a single moment of that date by choosing a drink he would barely remember in the future. As the waiter went back to the bar, they both started “So…” and the next few moments where filled with side smiles and embarrassment. “You first” offered Matt. “So…” Violet repeated, her gaze was fixed on her drink while she spoke “Long time no see, mh?”

Matt remembered well the last time the saw each other. It was during New York Fashion Week in September, when Violet fall during Michelle Visage’s runway show. Since that day something clicked on Violet’s mind. It was like she realized how bitchy she must have sounded, how bad she behaved towards Matt. She thought that her fall was a sort of a karma’s payback. Violet knew she had to make up with him and it started with her writing a long message to Matt the next day, thanking him for being by her side the when she needed the most. Matt’s reply came sooner than expected and without any trace of resentments – which made Violet more willing to write him again. That day the conversation was everything they both needed, and it ended at late in the night with a “I really enjoyed talking to you. Let’s do it again, ok?” from Matt. Violet sucked her breath and threw her phone away from her – what the fucking was that feeling?!

Then it was a message every three or four day – “how are you?”, “how’s your day?” –, just low profile messages to keep in touch. Being friend with Violet wasn’t easy for Matt, it involved a series of hiding feelings and thoughts he didn’t think he could handle. They avoided on purpose some topics – like Violet’s work and, of course, Miss Fame. Violet never mentioned her and Matt wasn’t really dying for knowing what she was doing. It was a strange situation. The previous months, Matt was sure that he had to stay away from Violet as possible – but after the first message he had to rethought about it. But it was like he needed those messages. He needed to keep in touch with her and being her friend was better than nothing.

They kept on texting each other until not so long ago, when Matt mentioned the fact that he was going to Milan with Michelle for the Fashion Week, and Violet happened to be there too. “We can go out and have a drink together” wrote Violet out of the blue “Please, Matt. I’m in Milan all alone and none of the other models want to be befriend me” In all honestly, Matt couldn’t blame the other models – Violet’s attitude was well known among their world – but she proved him she was trying to change. He had to give her a shot. He didn’t hear anything else from her for days. Until their second week in Milan, when she proposed the following Tuesday and he realized it was the 14th. Panic caught him. Was it a date?

“Long time no see” agreed Matt trying to follow the conversation. It was a bad habit of him, recalculating each other moves and he knew he had to stop – Violet was far more plotter than him. The waiter came back with the same cocktail Violet was drinking and then placed the bill in a silver plate next to Violet’s one. He noticed that Violet hadn’t paid hers – and since his mother raised him as a gentleman – he took a banknote out of his wallet and said “I’m paying for both, keep the charge”. The waiter left with a small bow that made Violet smirk. “Thank you” she whispered against the straw. Matt chuckled. Violet knew he would have paid for her too, and he didn’t like the play of the innocent girl at her first date. So, he gave voice to his thoughts “Violet. Why did you wanted to see me on Valentine’s night? And don’t tell me ‘it’s a night just any others’ – because we’re both here since January and you didn’t even try to see me once”. He must have sounded harsh, but Violet had to show her hand. Violet played for a few seconds with the napkin under her cocktail before looking at him and Matt could almost hear her thoughts “Did you remember when you told me ‘Stars are falling and so are you’? In that moment, I realized you were right. I’m not the same person I used to be. I’m happy Matt, I really am. But Fame is in Paris since New Year’s Eve and I started thinking that, yes, I am happy – but not as I used to. It shouldn’t be like that” Matt nodded as if he understood everything “Am I… a sort of replacement for Fame?” “Oh God, Matt. No, no, no” Violet rushed “I just wanted to see you and tell you that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I saw you in September and I could barely recognize you. You were sad – well, we kinda both were. And I know that part of that sadness was because of me. I didn’t want to end up alone this evening… And you are the only person who understands me” Matt rested his elbows on the chair back as he listened to Violet. Never in his life he thought he had the chance of hearing those words spilled from Violet’s mouth. In her unique way, she was trying to apologize. Their relationship, the break-up and his anger… They seemed so distant now “Don’t worry about it, Violet. It’s over. I’ve already forgave you” Violet let out a deep breath and for the first time since Matt arrived there a sincere smile was painted on her face. They stayed silent until Violet spoke again as she finished her drink “I think I still need you in my life, in a way or another” she whispered, trying not to sound so pathetic. “And you will” Matt replied shortly. He rested his hand on hers and they were cold because of the glass she was holding. He squeezed them in sympathy “How about another of those sugary drinks?” he proposed. “You’re paying?” she asked with her usual, coquettish tone giving him a menu. “I’m paying”

Three hours and five cocktails later, Violet was walking wobbly towards the taxi. “Are you sure you don’t want to split the taxi?” she asked once she entered “Where are you staying?” “Not away from there. No worries, I’ll walk” “Are you sure?” she asked again. “I am sure” he repeated firmly. He wasn’t used to Violet being so caring, but he liked it – he missed that lively sparkle in her eyes. “Ok, so… See you soon?” tipsy Violet was far more insecure than sober Violet. It was almost comical. He kept note he had to remember it to her – maybe the next time he’ll write her. Matt smiled in agreement and closed the taxi door for her. The night in Milan wasn’t as freezing as it was in New York. Maybe it was the alcohol. Violet’s taxi was a blurred point in the distance. Maybe it was because of her.

▶Biadore – Everyone But You ( read chapter I, II & III )

New York, 1p.m. and Milan, 7 p.m. Adore said multiple times she really (really, really) loved Valentine’s day, and during the entire month of January she gave Bianca tons of hints about it. So, when Bianca told her that she was going to spend that day (and the entire month of February) between Paris and Milan with Trinity for the Fashion Week she whined and complained like a baby girl. And, of course, tweeted about it for days. Eventually, she gave up because no one can stop Bianca from putting her work first (and Bianca couldn’t care about Twitter less). She gets it, and she couldn’t even stay mad at her for long because Bianca proposed something so cute Adore couldn’t believe it was really coming out from her mouth. A Skype date on Valentine’s day. Lunch for Adore at 1p.m. and dinner for Bianca at 7p.m. Adore almost spent the first week of February just thinking of what she should have being wearing. She wanted to make it memorable, like a real date. She didn’t expect to be so nervous when 1p.m. of February the 14th came “Adore, make her regret going at the other side of the world, or the ocean – or whatever” she repeated as she adjusted her red curls and pressed the incoming call button, the pizza box next to her was still hot and emitted smokes “You can do it”. But in the end, Adore was as nervous as their first date, and for the first time she sat properly on the chair.

“What the fuck are you wearing” stated Bianca as Adore’s webcam started working. Well, that wasn’t the reaction she was expecting from her girlfriend. On the other hand, you couldn’t have blame Bianca – Adore showed up wearing nothing but an ivory lace lingerie ensemble and her usual red lipstick. It wasn’t like Bianca wasn’t delighted by that vision, but a flute of champagne instead of a cheap beer in Adore’s hands would have had another effect. “Duh, your Valentine’s presents! Which is me, if you didn’t get it” she moved closely to the screen and inspected Bianca “What the fuck are you wearing?!” Adore pointed out as Bianca seemed to wear a black jacket with nothing underneath it “Bitch, are you even wearing a bra?!” “It’s from Moschino’s new collection, I have a party to attend later” “This is not an answer” “The answer is no. But “Bianca added and raised a finger to shush her girlfriend as she saw Adore’s mouth opening read to speak “I didn’t choose it. Trinity made me wear it” Adore jumped on her seat annoyed by the fact that Bianca has never looked so sexy and there was an ocean (literally) between them “Why do you have to look so sexy when I can’t even touch you?! Can you wear it again when you’ll be back?” Bianca’s checks slightly turned red at the request “I’ll try my best” she said after an embarrassed cough.

“So, what did you order?” Adore tried to change the subject of their conversation – she needed something to distract her from keep on staring at Bianca’s neckline. “Salmon. I’m not even going to ask you since I can see the pizza box” Adore stuck her tongue out playfully and raised her beer towards the camera in a sort of toast “I think that’s one of the best date we’ve ever had. Like, we don’t have to argue where going to eat and you can have your super pretentious white wine while…” “Well, if you call pizza and beer a date…” Bianca whispered loud enough for Adore to hear her and then raised her glass too. “But in underwear! Expensive underwear!” Bianca’s snort set Adore’s mood off “You never like my presents” Adore whined and crossed her arms. “The last time you bought me something was a bonsai because – and I quote textually – ‘it’s tiny as you!’” Bianca’s voice cracked as it reached the highest tone she could, parroting the words that Adore told her when she bought that fucking bonsai. “First – that was true. Secondly, I thought it was cute! You laughed at it too!” Adore has never been the kind of person who can guess the perfect gift. But once she saw that little tree on a window shopping, she quickly made a connection with Bianca being shorter than her and her love for plants. It didn’t sound like a bad idea, and Bianca’s face when Adore gave her the bonsai was speechless. “Yeah, you’re right” “I’m goddammit right” and by saying that Adore bite a slice of her pizza. Unfortunately, a (very large) drop of tomato sauce felt right on her bra. It was like one of those slow-motion scenes, and Adore’s face lowered to see the damage she has done. Fuck, her 200 dollars’ bra was already ruined “Bea. You don’t mind, do you?” Bianca dropped her fork and laughed “Did you just spoiled my present?!” “Well, at least I bought you something! Where is my present?!” Bianca raised an eyebrow and directed her laptop behind her “Right there, asshole” replied, showing a black bag with a pink ribbon. “Wait. You actually bought me a present? What is it?” Adore’s frame stuck out towards the screen as if that was giving her a better view. “No way. You’re seeing it when I’ll be back” “Then tell me again when you’re coming back” the red haired asked opening the second can of beer. She felt a cold drop of beer crashing against her chest but – whatever – her bra was already ruined. She knew she sounded bothered and she couldn’t help it. She missed Bianca so much it was almost surreal. Adore has never really been in a monogamous relationship before Bianca. To be precise, she has never been in a relationship before Bianca. That means that whenever she needed (or wanted, or both) she has always slept with someone. She blamed it on being young and carefree, and she enjoyed those time as much as being with Bianca in a commitment relationship. So, Bianca being away for that long – let’s face it – sucked. “March the 3rd” “You can’t be real!” Adore said out loud. “I’ve already told you like ten times” Bianca shook her head at her girlfriend’s exaggerated reactions. She loved them (most of the time) – they made Adore look like a needy girl and Bianca loved taking care of her. But in that moment, they weren’t together and a hint of vexation appeared on Bianca’s face – she has never wanted to come back home so badly before. “I always hope you’ve changed your mind. You know, seeing me like this” Adore let her hands wandering along her chest but Bianca didn’t change her expressions “You better spend the 4th with me alone. In bed, hopefully” she added bitterly. “Sleeping because of the jet lag? Probably” Bianca snapped back and left Adore dumbfounded. She enjoyed way too much making fun of Adore. Her girlfriend may hadn’t realized it yet, but she always ended up having her way with Bianca. “Don’t joke with me!” Bianca’s sarcastic laugh echoed through the laptop’s speakers until the sound of an incoming message came. Suddenly her face became serious as she looked Adore “I have to go” she emptied the glass in one swallow and stood up. “But you just touch your food” Adore mused. “Yeah but Trinity just texted me that our car has arrived. Didn’t expect it so sooner” Bianca stopped herself and moved her gaze towards Adore. It didn’t go as they planned – not at all. “That woman need to be fucked by someone. She’s stressful. When I’m going to see you again?” Adore didn’t really want to sound like a brat, but her lunch date didn’t come out as she expected and she couldn’t hide it from Bianca. She wondered for how long they’d managed to see each other for a short period before giving up. “I don’t know. But text me, ok? I’ll reply as soon as I can” Bianca softened her voice “It’s not like going to a Moschino party with Trinity is my dream date for Valentine’s day. Well, going to a Moschino party is, not the company though” she knew that Adore loved hearing those kinds of sappy and stupid things and after all that was the truth. Her smile proved Bianca she was right. “Bea?” “Yes?” Adore hold her breath as she wanted to tell her a lot of things – most of all something that usually are said on Valentine’s day like “I love you”. But even though she was sure about her feelings, she didn’t know if Bianca was feeling the same. That situation didn’t help and she didn’t want to scare the hell out of Bianca “You’ve been staying at the other side of the ocean for a month. Don’t you dare coming back with just the Valentine present ok?” Bianca chuckled “What do you want? A pair of shoes, a new clean bra…?” “A real Italian pizza!” Adore laughed seeing Bianca rolling her eyes. “Ok, let’s say I’ll try to surprise you. I really have to go now” Adore pouted her lips “Happy Valentine’s day” “Happy Valentine’s day to you too, baby girl”

▶ Shalaska – Work of Art ( read the story here )

New York, 3.15p.m. “You are so beautiful and sweet” said Sharon in a very sweet and caring tone as Alaska entered in the room. “Ooow, thank you!” she replied, feeling her cheeks getting redder at the unexpected compliment. Sharon turned towards Alaska with eyes wide open “I wasn’t talking to you” and in that moment Alaska saw her girlfriend holding Hairspray. “Do I have to be jealous of my cat too now?” she asked playing with the kimono tie that wrapped her figure. “You should. Because you’re a pretty pretty kitten, aren’t you?” Sharon raised the cat up so she could face him. On the other hand, Hairspray started feeling restless and tried to scratch the woman “Oh, ok lion, calm down” Sharon put the cat down and asked Alaska “Are you ready?” Alaska nodded and walked towards her “Tell me again why have I proposed this” “Because you love my works and you’re the supportive-girlfriend kind” Sharon replied with a grin on her face, before peaking Alaska’s lips and uniting the bow of her vest. “This is such a Titanic scene” she whispered against her lips before laying on her couch naked. “We can fuck in the car later, if you want” “Shut up and start, please”

Few days before, back in the same living room, Sharon mentioned the fact that she missed painting – with the vernissage, the art gallery and the time she spent at Alaska’s she hadn’t had a single moment for working on something new “Maybe I should just… I don’t know, hire some models and give my clients new contents. I feel like I have so much else to express” Alaska stopped working on the computer as she heard the word ‘models’ and removed her glasses in a very dramatically way “You mean… naked models?” she already knew the answer, having seen all Sharon’s works, but it was worth a shot. Sharon stayed silent and lit a cigarette instead, blowing a puff of smoke in her direction. “How many times do I have to ask not to smoke inside my house?!” Alaska sighed. “Of course I’ll be using naked models, honey… There is another way to paint people?” Sharon threw the cigarette in the can of beer she was holding as sat next to her girlfriend “They’re just bodies” she whispered in her ear “You know that I have eyes only for you” “Then use me as your model” Alaska didn’t let herself thinking properly that her mouth had already said those words. Maybe it was Sharon’s tight grip on her thigh’s fault. “I’ll think about it” Sharon replied before placing kisses in Alaska’s neck “But now, I have a better idea on how I could ‘use’ your body”

Sharon smirked at the thought as she watered the brush she was holding “Chin up, kitten” She stopped herself from preparing her tools to stare at Alaska. She thought she was so beautiful, so spontaneous, and it made her always craving from some sort of physical touch from her. Sharon loved Alaska’s body – everything about Alaska, to be honest – so why not let her being her new muse? After all, one of her deepest wish was having a moment like this one – her loved one and a blank canvas ready to capture that moment forever. Actually, Sharon was pretty impressed by her own poetic strain. The artist saw her girlfriend pushing her blonde platinum locks behind her shoulders with trembling hands – was she nervous? “Are you nervous?” Sharon asked speaking her mind. “It’s kind of I’ve just realized that I’m naked and someone else is going to see the painting. Someone who’s not you” Alaska murmured. Sometimes Sharon didn’t remember that Alaska wasn’t really into her world – one in which a naked body is just a form of art, not something that needs to be sexualized. She lifted from her position and walked towards the couch. Once she reached it, she bent over and stroke the locks that Alaska had just moved “Well, I’m the luckiest woman alive” she whispered against her ear “because I’m the only one in the world that can see you like this. At least give everyone else the chance to see a portrait of all this beauty” Over the past months Sharon learned Alaska how to loosen up a bit, and that moment wasn’t different – she suddenly saw Alaska’s shoulders relaxing and a small smile appeared in her face.

Alaska couldn’t stare at Sharon because the latter was hidden behind the large canvas. She actually couldn’t believe that such a huge object could fit in her small living room, but has always Sharon turned out to shake her little personal world and she really didn’t mind, except for one little thing “How long will it took?” “Well, it depends” replied Sharon, brushing the tool gently against the canvas “sometimes few hours, sometimes days” she smirked as she reappeared from behind her work station. “What the fuck?! My arms already hurt!” Alaska whined having her arms pins and needles. When she proposed as Sharon’s new model she didn’t know that little (yet important) detail. Like, in Titanic that scene lasted no more than five minutes – she should have done some research beforehand, not just re-watching one of her favorite movies and fantasize about it for days. “Then, next time let me use a real model. You know, one who doesn’t move every two minutes. Stay. Fucking. Still.” Sharon ordered more amused than irritated. “No way you’re gonna see another woman naked besides me” Alaska readjusted herself on her elbows. She meant it. She has found herself really jealous of everyone who was around her girlfriend and she didn’t have the slightest intention of changing it. Besides, Sharon never complained when she acted like an overly attached girlfriend “Ehy,” Alaska called Sharon’s again “can we get Chinese food for dinner?” “And then I’ll have to paint a spring rolls inflated tummy? No thanks” “I thought that after dinner we were supposed to fuck in my car” Sharon lowered the brush she was using and sighed heavily “Why don’t we have a break?”

Alaska’s kitchen was enlightened by small cinnamon scented candles, but their smell couldn’t overcome the Chinese food one’s. “Modeling is harder than I’ve ever imagined” said Alaska with her mouth full of a spring roll. She was starving and she felt tired only because she had to stay still in the same position for hours “I’m reevaluating all the work the bitches at Vanguard do during the photo shootings” “Wow, finally and after only a year you’ve found something positive about your work!” Sharon joked as her hand reached Alaska’s chin and cleaned it from a drop of soy sauce. Alaska smiled softly at Sharon’s gesture. During those past four months Sharon, has been nothing but supportive to Alaska, cheering her up after long days of work and being always ready to listen to her freak-outs. Those last weeks – with Trinity stuck between Italy and France – has been more like a honeymoon. They spent two weeks between their homes and Sharon’s gallery, and Alaska was pretty sure she could get used to it. With Sharon by her side she felt loved, and not only because she stared at her naked body all afternoon with her mouth wide open. And then something clicked on her mind between the fourth and fifth spring roll she was eating – something that was wandering in her head for weeks, and those past days (especially this day) was just the cherry on top “You know what, Sharon? I love you” she said out of the blue. Sharon turned to stone for a few seconds and accidentally let the sticks she was holding drop. She wanted to be the one who said that first. She has always been the one who said it first in the couple. But Alaska was unpredictable – from her double life at Vanguard, to her cat that was eating something that looked like soy noodles leftovers – everything about her completed the picture of a modern hero in a romance novel. And by seeing her with a spring roll half eaten in her hand and the torn mouth she usually did when she was nervous, Sharon knew that was the perfect moment “I love you too, kitten” “Just to be sure, you’re not telling it to Hairspray again, are you?” Sharon laughed and moved her seat next to Alaska’s “No, stupid. I really love you” she said before kissing her.

▶ Rajilia – Kintsugi ( read the story here )

New York, 23.49p.m. Moving back to her old apartment when she was into an almost forced vacation hasn’t been the best option. As if she had the chance to choose. That evening at the end of January she told everything to Raven – from that hideous feeling hidden in her chest to her affair with Manila. Raven was listening to her as she has always done – silent and with a cup of expensive tea in her hands. And when she told Raja that she understood her and she forgave her, that was the moment in which Raja realized she had to come back to her own home – if they kept on doing as if nothing happened (or if Raja kept on flying to another country) they would have never write the final chapter of that story. As Raja stayed silent at Raven’s forgiveness, the latter breathed “It’s over, isn’t it?” Raja lowered her glance as if she were a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar “Yeah, I think that… Yeah” That night she slept in a hotel room (the most expensive suite she could afford). She couldn’t stand the idea of coming back to her own house. The morning after she came back and packed all her stuff. She was sure that Raven was at work that time. She couldn’t face her, not now. In two hours, she packed two years of life and relationship. Two weeks later she still had her belongs in large cartons spread all over her house (that now, after years in Raven’s townhouse, it looked more like a shoe box), and Raja laid haphazardly in her sofa with her legs on her coffee table full of old magazines (mostly Vanguards’) and takeaway boxes – how she missed those comfortable armchairs in Raven’s home –, watching without too much interest a romance movie on TV. “You’ll all going to break-up, a day or another” said Raja to no one in particular as the end credits scrolled down. She placed the bottle of red wine now empty on the coffee table – how did she ever come to that? All alone and half-drank. She would have never guessed. Maybe that break-up hit her more than she wanted to admit. And she also put whatever she had with Manila on hold. Raja just gave up answering her calls and messages. The blogger was insistent at first, but after the first week of hearing nothing about Raja she eventually gave up. She gave up on her – but not on giving Raja cold glances during their working hours.

She heard a knock on her door. Who could be? She didn’t really want answer. It was 10p.m. and maybe it was just that creepy neighbor, Sam, asking the most random things in the most unusual hours of the day. She couldn’t handle him too that night – she would just curl up in her sofa pretending not to be at home. But the knock on her door became persistent and started hurting her tipsy head. “Sam, how can I help you this time…?” But that person wasn’t Sam.

It was a very drunk Manila, she must have been crying really hard since her make-up run all over her cheeks and the smell of cheap alcohol replaced her usual vanilla scent. Raja rested her body against the door frame, dumbfounded. It took her two whole minutes to realize the entire situation and before she could let out a single word Manila spoke first “Look, I know I shouldn’t be there but… Fuck, I still care. I just wanted you to know that I still care. About you – about us. And I know it’s stupid because we’ve been knowing each other for a month but… That’s what I feel” It was late and Manila’s tone of voice wasn’t appropriate for that time, Raja’s thoughts were blurred by the fair amount of wine she has been drinking. As far as she could see, that Manila in front of her could just be a project of her most secret dream. Raja didn’t know what to answer, and for Manila that seemed like a reply “Ok. I’m sorry. That’s all I wanted to tell you. Sorry for ruining your night I’ll – I’ll just go” In the exact moment in which Manila turned away, Raja grabbed her wrist tightly “I might be drunk” she admitted in a whisper “I don’t even know if you’re really here or not” “I’m here” Manila reassured her, freeing the grip on her wrist and instead taking her hands and placing them on her face “See? I’m here” “And my home is full of trash and boxes” Raja said as if Manila asked her to enter. “Boxes?” “I’ve never unpacked since… Well” she didn’t want to continue her phrase – seeing where it would have ended. She let the last words unspoken and Manila nodded. “How about that. You let me in, and we’ll start unpacking. And we’ll throw away things you’ve never used in a year” Manila answered back. She had hard time replying since Raja started caressing her face enchanted by the sparkles in the woman’s eyes. “We-we can do that” Raja agreed and moved herself from the door to let Manila enter. Seeing her in her living room and wandering towards all the boxes that where inside made Raja realize that this was the start of a new era – no more denied feelings, secrets or second lives. And, of course, no more damasked armchairs.

“What?” Manila asked as she caught Raja staring at her. She couldn’t stand still and seemed to lose balance every now and then. They stared at each other for a long minute and Raja realized that those sparkles she saw in Manila’s eyes moments before were that gold she was looking back in India – that gold that could fix her. “Nothing” Raja shook her head “I’m just sad it’s after midnight and I can’t welcome you in this pigsty with a sappy ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’” Manila smiled and moved closer to her. Not all the wine in the world could warm Raja enough as that soft smile. Manila lifted her arm and looked at her refined Cartier watch and changed the time “Well” she said showing her the watch “as far as I can see Valentine’s day isn’t over” Raja smiled at the foolishness of the gesture “Just to be sure, how much drunk you are?” Manila crossed her arms around Raja’s neck and laughed loudly “To be honest, I’m more happy than drunk”

[gvbejvmesmichaels]

Drabble: Reflections - One Year Later

Title: Reflections - One Year Later Or the update/remix you asked for Rating: R for language Relationships: Gabe/Johnny, past Gabe/the Russian Warnings: None? Summary: A remixed version of Too Old to Text and Reflections. Notes: For you.

January, 2020

This was not a call he wanted to make, but he’d done everything he needed to do. He’d had papers served, and he'd gone back and forth with the lawyers -- nothing worked. And he knew what this was, what this really was. It was a fucking powerplay. He was still pissed that he’d been dumped and was purposely making Gabe’s life more annoying than it needed to be. It should have been easy - one and done. 

All he legally needed was for Gregor Rasputin to sign off on using his likeness. It was a standard contract for artists, and it was designed to protect artists from having their subjects sue for half their commission. He didn’t think that Razz would sue, but Gabe wasn’t willing to chance it, and neither was Sully, his agent. He had a show at the end of February and there were pieces he wanted to show, but he couldn’t if Razz was going to be a dick.

It was with that thought in mind that he settled in his studio and called his ex-lover (boyfriend was never a term he had used for him). The clock said 12am, which meant it was 8am for Razz. Unless the other man was determined to dodge Gabe entirely, this was his best chance to reach the other man. If he refused to sign the papers, he was going to need to rethink the entire theme of his show, and the thing was -- he didn’t want to. He had a vision and he was determined to see it come to life.

“Yashcheritsa!” Razz greeted, sounding far too pleasant for 8 in the morning, and for the fact he was on the phone with his ex. “You’re up late, no? Is Printsessa still keeping you up at odd hours?”

He closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was not a game he felt like playing. “Razz.” He scolded, rolling his eyes, even though he knew the other man couldn’t see him. “I’m half-asleep as it is and I don’t have time for this. You know why I’m calling.”

The other man didn’t respond right away. Maybe he was looking for the right words; maybe his English was getting rusty. Gabe didn’t exactly care; all he wanted was to get his answer right from the source - fuck lawyers (‘aren’t you trying to?’ the Georgie voice in his head helpfully supplied). “Yashcheritsa, I don’t like the idea of pictures of me just existing for others to see.”

Gabe scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not like that…” He promised. “No one is going to even know that it’s you. It’s not exactly a picture of your face.”

There was a sound of surprise from the other end of the phone. “Gabrelle.” Razz sounded scandalized. “What body part will people be seeing?”

He couldn’t help the snicker that escaped. Sometimes all he could think about was the fact that he was essentially a thirteen year old boy. “Not the body part you’re thinking about.” He frowned as he thought about it for a moment. “Okay, part of the body part you’re thinking about, but not that actual body part.” 

It was quiet again, but this time Gabe knew that Razz was thinking. “This is important to you?” He finally asked.

“Very.”

Razz sighed. “I will sign tonight.” He promised.

The smile that spread across his face was genuine. “Thank you.” He said and he found that he meant it.

February 2020

Gabe paced the length of his bedroom, the dogs laying on the bed watching his movements. He was pretty sure they were waiting to see if they needed to get off the bed and follow him out of the room. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he stopped and stared down at his cell phone. “You can do this. It’s not fucking rocket science. Just stop being a pussy and do it.” He closed his eyes, the phone feeling heavy in his hands. “Fuck. Why is this so hard? It’s a text. It’s just a text.” 

He jumped as his phone went off in his hand. Had he accidentally sent a voice to text? Horrified he stared down at his phone, but it was just an incoming text from The Russian. 

Updated release signed. Sent to Sully.

It was strange to think that part of his show was so reliant on his ex-lover signing particular documents. He didn’t respond to the text message and instead stared down at his left hand or rather at the inside of his hand where there was an ugly gash running up the palm. The stitches had come out the day before, but his hand still looked nasty. Sighing again, he looked back at his cell phone and swiped away from the text from Razz. He scanned through his incoming texts. He’d been pretty shitty at replying to his texts as of late. There had just been so many coming in and he just didn’t want to deal with it.

He scanned through the texts, looking for anything to do other than the thing he’d told himself he was going to do. They were basically the same thing, but from different people.

It’s been awhile since you’ve done a show. Are you nervous? Are you sure you want to do a showing?

It was strange. How long had it been since the last time he showed? It hadn’t been that long, had it? Why was it such a big deal now? Had his show right after the divorce really been that much of a shit show?

Sighing, he scrolled past the texts until he got to the person he was looking for. His finger hovered over the name for a moment before he finally clicked on Jay, and, boy, was it fucking weird seeing his name as something other than Do Not Answer.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he tapped out a message: I have a gallery opening next week, and I’d love it if you came.

“I sound like a fucking fifteen year old girl.” He whined out as he deleted it and tapped out a different message.

My new exhibit is opening at Nik’s gallery next week. Did you want to come?

“God, this is fucking stupid. You’ve known him for like 14 years. Just send him the fucking text.” He deleted the text again, and swore under his breath. “Stop being such a fucking chicken shit.”

Next week my new exhibit opens at Nik’s gallery. Would you like to come to the opening with me?

This time he actually sent the damn text. “I still chickened out, didn’t I?” He asked the dogs. “Shit.” 

To be clear – as my date.

And then because he always seemed to freak out when it came to Johnny, as soon as he sent the text, he threw the phone onto the bed, earning yelps and growls from the dogs as it landed too close to them.

“Sorry, sorry.” He bit his lip, and closed his eyes before tilting his head up towards the ceiling. “You happy, G?” He asked as though the dead could hear him. “I did the thing. I asked my ex-husband out.” His eyes widened. “Shit, I asked my ex-husband out… What the fuck am I doing?”

Friday, February 28, Opening Day of Reflections

7am

“Gabe?” Nik’s voice echoed through the gallery. “I really hope you’re in here and someone didn’t break in.”

Using a creeper, he was laying on the floor of the gallery, installing rods to support one of his pieces.  It was an intricate installation piece and he was terrified that due to the nature of the base, the glass bits were going to weigh down the base, break, shatter all over the floor, and he was going to be a disgrace in the art world.

“I’m in the inner chamber!” He called out. When she had left the night before most of the temporary display walls he’d set up to separate the sections of his show hadn’t been completely installed yet. Now her gallery was one giant maze.

There was no response for a moment, and Gabe figured that she was trying to orient herself. “How do I get there?” She called out in response.

“What room are you in?” The thin rods were weaved inside of the base to blend in so they weren’t noticeable to the viewer. He wasn’t sure how many rods he was going to need, but he figured if he weaved in at least ten, it would be strong enough.

“I think I’m at the circus.”

Gabe groaned. “Yep, I’m changing the lighting in there. I knew the lights were too bright.” He huffed out. “Either walk past the wedding rings or come in through the back and come through the looking glass.”

It was quiet so Gabe figured she was maneuvering through the exhibits and got distracted. He went back to weaving another rod through when suddenly a hand was on his foot, and he startled so badly that he almost broke the damn thing he was trying to fix. “The fuck.” He snapped out as he was rolled out of his piece. “You break it, you buy it. And my shit isn’t cheap.”

Nik just raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you sleep at all last night or were you here the whole time?” She asked, even though he was pretty sure she knew the answer to that. 

“It just needs to be perfect.” He said as he sat up. “All my shows are personal but this one is…”

“A love letter. I know.” She told him, giving his knee a gentle pat. “Go home and sleep. I’ll fix the lighting for you.”

Gabe shook his head. “I need to get that done, and I need to put the hands in this piece and-”

Taking his hands, Nik pulled him to his feet. “I know, Gabe. I’ve seen the footprint you provided.” She said pushing him towards the back. “I have to set up for the cocktail portion of the evening, too. I’m perfectly capable of finishing the things up here. You need to sleep.”

“I still have-”

Nik shook her head. “I’ll call DJ on you.” She threatened. “Or worse. I’ll call Katie and watch her drag you home by your ear.”

Gabe groaned. “And you’ll follow my directions exactly?” And he regretted the question as soon as he saw the look on Nik’s face. “Fine, fine. I’m going, I’m going.”

9:51am

He was lying face down on his bed, George and Gulliver asleep on either side of him while Scully lay on her bed, snoozing away when his phone went off. Still more asleep than awake, he blindly reached for his phone and answered it with a tired, “Uh-llo.”

“Briel? You never responded to my text. What time am I picking you up tonight?” 

Still more asleep than anything else, he let himself drift back towards sleep. He knew that voice so it was okay to fall back asleep.  That was a good voice, a trustworthy voice. “Mmhmm.”

“Let me guess. You were up all night doing finishing touches on your show and you’re just now sleeping.” The other man theorized. He really did know Gabe well.

Gabe snuggled his face deeper into his pillow as he listened to Johnny talk. “Got kicked out.” He slurred. His whole life he’d talked in his sleep, and offered out pure gibberish in response to questions when someone woke him up. Chances were that he wouldn’t even remember this conversation. It wouldn’t be the first time he had a full conversation with Johnny and didn’t remember a single word. It probably also wouldn’t be the last time.

There was a warm laugh. “Briel, are you awake or asleep?” His ex-husband asked him, knowing very well from first hand experience what he was like when he was asleep.

“Yes. The sirens call to me to lull me back to the place of dreams.” Another laugh. “Briel, who are you on the phone with right now?”

“JJM.” He mumbled out, letting sleep wash over him, going back to his habit of referring to people by their initials. He’d done it a lot when he was younger, which was how the kids wound up with their nicknames of CJ and DJ.

There was no response at first. “Who is JJM?” And there was a strange hitch to the other man’s voice.

“Jonathan James-Michaels.” Gabe responded like it was a stupid question.

It was quiet and Gabe was almost fully asleep again before: “What time am I getting you tonight?” He asked tentatively.

“5:30.”

“At your place?”

The phone felt really heavy in his hand. He was going to be non-responsive any minute now.

“Mmhmm. GB wants to see our pretty clothes.”

He never heard Johnny’s response; he was already fully asleep again.

11:15am

Gabe’s arm was lifted and a little warm body slithered underneath before Bella put her head on the same pillow that Gabe was using. His granddaughter usually ran warm, but she was warmer than usual. 

“Old man.” Drew touched his face until his eyes opened and he was actually awake and blinking up at his oldest child. “Old man, I gotta go pick up the shit for tonight. The kid’s running a fever so I’m leaving her with you.” He kept his hand on his face until he was sure that the words made sense to him.

Yawning, Gabe sat up and laid on his back, Bella immediately readjusting and snuggling onto his side for warmth and comfort. “W’a ‘ime issit?” He asked tiredly, an arm wrapping around Bella so she wouldn’t roll off the bed. He had no idea where the dogs wandered off to.

“A little after eleven.” His son told him. “But go back to sleep. You got a couple of hours to sleep yet.” He reassured him before slipping out of the room.

“Family should respect my vampirism.” He mumbled out incoherently.

“I res-ped.” Bella agreed before they both fell back asleep.

4:45pm

“I don’t know what to wear.” Gabe whined as he ransacked through his closet. He was already fully dressed in an outfit that Juliet had both picked out and had pressed for him. The dark slacks would hit the tops of his shoes just right, and the light blue button-up fit just right. He trusted his former stepdaughter’s judgement when it came to clothes, but that didn’t stop his nerves from spiraling out of control.

“Aren’t you already dressed?” Drew asked in complete and total confusion. He and Maxxie were both in his bed with Bella. They’d been dating for a couple of months, but he wasn’t sure when he would get used to his son dating his friend. Sure, Maxxie was only a couple of years older than Drew, but it felt like his two worlds colliding; he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Their backs were pressed against the headboard, and Bella was strewn across their laps. She had already liked Maxxie, but now that he was dating Drew, who happened to live with them? She was constantly in a state of happiness being surrounded by the people she liked best in the world. She was still warm to the touch, but her fever wasn’t high enough to make him nervous enough to cancel. “Because you look dressed.” His son continued.

Bella blinked sleepily up at him. “GG, you look pretty.” She said before yawning and burying her face into Maxxie’s stomach.

“You’re stalling, which is totally adorable.” Maxxie chimed in. And he wasn’t sure why Maxxie was getting ready at his place instead of getting ready at his own place and picking up Drew later. All he knew was that his friend had shown up carrying a bag and wearing nothing but a silk robe. He was really hoping it wasn’t some sort of weird sex thing.

He made a face at Maxxie. “I’m not stalling. I’m just nervous about tonight.” He corrected, pulling himself away from his closet and sitting on the bed with the kids.

Drew shrugged, but it was Maxxie who spoke. “I don’t know why you’re so nervous. It’s just a date, and you guys were married for like 10 years.” He said nonchalantly. 

Gabe blinked. “I meant about the show.” He said, giving him a weird look. 

“Oh. I don’t know why you’re nervous about that part. I would be more nervous about going on a date with my ex-husband.” His son chimed in.

He groaned. “Gee, thanks for that.”

5:30pm

“Why is he picking you up so early?” Drew asked as he held onto Bella so Gabe could put medicine in the two year old’s ears. She always tended to be slightly more agreeable when her uncle was involved in her medicine-giving, but only slightly. She would have been more agreeable if Maxxie was holding her, but he’d disappeared into the furnished basement which was essentially Drew’s apartment.

Gabe shrugged. “I got a text when I was sleeping telling me he was, but apparently I was on the phone with him for five minutes when I was asleep so I probably told him to get me early.” He admitted, petting Bella’s hair to keep her from squirming too much. “I probably figured I needed a chaperone.”

His son rolled his eyes as Gabe scooped Bella out of his arms once he got the medication in her ears. “I don’t want to be your guys’ chaperone.” He practically whined out.

There was a knock on the front door, and suddenly Maxxie was standing on the stairs that led from the living room to Drew’s lair. His hair was done up in rollers, which elicited a giggle from Bella. “Your date is here!” Maxxie announced excitedly before flapping his hands in Gabe’s direction. “Go put the baby down-”

“Not a baby, Maxxie Mouse.” Bella complained.

“Of course you’re not, baby.” Maxxie soothed before turning his attention back to Gabe. “Go. He needs to see the effect of you coming down the stairs in those pants.” 

He rolled his eyes, but still did as he was told. As he set Bella down in her bed, he could hear Maxxie open the front door. “You have a party.” Bella snuggled into her bed, Scully already on the bed with her, a protective paw on Bella’s leg. “You sleep here? Or you sleep there?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Gabe admitted, thinking more about how parties tended to go with his friends, not so much about how things could go with Johnny. “But Grey is gonna spend the night here, and Kid and Abby are going to look after you both. You’re gonna be good for Abby, right?”

Bella nodded. “The best.” She promised before pointing at her cheek demandingly. “Kiss, now.”

Laughing, he pressed a kiss to her cheek before passing over her LeapPad and stepping into the hallway. He ran a hand over his slacks, making sure they were wrinkle-free and dog hair free. Unable to stall any longer, he walked down the stairs, pausing midway at the sight of Johnny standing in the living room with Maxxie and Drew. He wasn’t sure who looked more uncomfortable: Johnny or Drew.

Seeing Johnny in a suit would always make his heart skip a beat. Now he knew why Juliet was so damn determined to get him in light blue; she wanted him to match her father’s eyes. “I feel like we’re fucking going to prom.” 

Johnny’s hands were stuffed into his pockets and when he looked at Gabe, really looked at him, Gabe found that he needed to hold onto the handrail for support. “You look better than going to prom.” His ex-husband murmured out, looking uncomfortable, like he didn’t know what to say or what to do in this given situation and then… “How are you feeling? You always used to get so nervous.”

A smile slid onto his features, all previous thoughts immediately dismissed. Years later and the other man still knew him better than anyone else in the world. “I still do.” He looked down at his feet, once again feeling like a teenage girl about to go to Prom with the Quarterback. Hearing Maxxie clear his throat was what prompted him to continue down the stairs and to his date. “I’m feeling a lot calmer now.”

7:00pm

They’re sitting in the car outside of the gallery, and it’s taking everything in Gabe to not run away. This was probably the most nervous he’d been for a show in a very long time. When he first got out of prison, he’d opened every emotion he’d ever felt for other people to see, but lately he hadn’t been as raw, as open, as intimate with his art as he was in the beginning of his career. Hell, this is probably the most intimate and public he’d ever been.

“You’re terrified of what everyone’s going to think.” Johnny told him, staring out at the gallery, instead of looking over at Gabe. “What’s so different about this one?”

He ran a hand over his mouth as he thought about an answer that wouldn’t ruin the truth of what Johnny was about to walk into. When it came to his shows, Gabe liked to generally keep Johnny in the dark. His reactions to Gabe’s work was always one of the rare times where his features weren’t schooled, when his emotions showed all over his face. Those were his favorite reactions. “It’s more personal than usual.” He finally admitted. “My heart is spread out there on the walls. Every ounce of it.” 

“You’ve gone through a lot. You used to tell me that’s what made the best pieces.” His ex laid his hand over Gabe’s and gave it a squeeze. His hand lingered over Gabe’s for a couple of extra moments, and Gabe wanted to grab his hand back when he pulled away. “I’ve wanted to ask how you are after… everything. After coming back from Russia, after everything that’s been happening with Connie, but I’m guessing I’ll get my answer in there.”

Gabe couldn’t help but to close his eyes, his hand already feeling cold. “I’m… probably less broken up than I’m supposed to be. It’s not really anything to do with Connie in there. There’s a bit about him, but he’s not exactly the focal point of my show.” He swallowed and glanced over at Johnny, chewing on his lip as he did so. “There’s stuff about you in there.”

The other man swallowed and then took a deep breath before making eye contact with Gabe. “Whatever it is, I’m not going to be upset.” He promised. “Unless it’s my ass again.” 

Gabe’s laughter filled the car.

7:15pm

The nerves returned as Gabe and Johnny stepped into the gallery. These were his familiar pre-show jitters. The ideas he had in his head didn’t always translate to other people, which was the risk that came from being an artist. Opening night meant translating his mind onto a canvas of some kind. Not everyone would understand his vision, which was so fucking nerve-wracking. Taking a deep breath, he took Johnny’s hand and they walked into the gallery.

He’d taken over the entire gallery, something that Gabe was incredibly grateful to Nik for allowing. She said it helped her more than it helped him, but he was still grateful for her and everything she’d done for him. As soon as anyone walked through the front door, they were greeted by a white display wall. Mounted on the wall were 15 mirrors, each surrounded by iridescent painted metal, surrounding the varying sized round mirrors like a cage. A 6”x6” sign was on the far right corner: Inside the Mirror, 2019, metal on mirrored glass. Gabe watched as Johnny detached his hand from his and wandered along the path, his fingers hovering over the caged mirrors, as though he was doing his best not to touch them.

Inside the Mirror was the beginning of the little maze that Gabe had created. If the person walked to the left, they were led to a small room. One side of the room had a white wall with lights playing against it that made it look like it was snowing. The whole room actually was designed to mimic a frigid cold environment. Everything was stark white and silver. It didn’t look sterile so much as it looked as though it should be below zero.

In front of the white wall was a half-wall of blown glass onion domes, backlit by lights. It was supposed to mimic how Gabe had felt when he was walking down the streets of Saint Petersburg, alone with a toddler. A 6”x6” sign was on the far left corner: Candied Onions, 2020, glass. 

It didn’t look like they were at the circus any more. Nik had shifted the lights down so the room was bathed in what Gabe would only describe as stained glass magic. It almost felt like the cold sun was shining through the glass, and not like a clown was going to jump out from around the corner any minute.

On the display wall opposite the glass wall of onion domes, there were three paintings. The first painting was mascara painted on a faded out mirror.  The was a 6”x6” sign to the right of the painting: Homo/Hetero, 2019, glass.

It was a man’s muscular leg and thigh, as seen from profile. Instead of being biologically correct, where his dick should have been was a shredded Pride flag. Nerves ran up his spine as he watched Johnny study his piece, but he didn’t stay at that one for very long before moving onto the next piece. 

The sign to the right of this one read: Iced Out, 2020, canvas. There were two families drawn in charcoal on canvas. One family was the outline of a father holding his daughter. Their bodies were painted out in watercolor earth tones. The father was holding the hand of another man, and this man’s outline was painted out in cool tones. The side closest to the father was a light blue that turned into an icier blue, which turned to look like ice as he got further away from the father. Next to that man was a man and woman painted to look like Matryoshka dolls.

The third painting was on what used to be someone’s oak dinner table. A hundred different wedding rings were painted out in melted chrome. Some were embedded deeply into the wood, while other ones were just barely on the surface. This one had taken months to get right. The sign for this one read: Wooden Rings, 2019. Of all the pieces in this room, this piece was the one that had Johnny’s attention. He stood in front of it for what felt like a long time, his fingers tracing over the rings. Sometimes Johnny was worse than the kids when it came to his work; he needed to be reminded to touch with his eyes. Something about seeing him with this piece though… He didn’t have the heart to tell him not to touch.

“There’s more.” Gabe murmured out, not wanting to speak too loudly in the quiet atmosphere he’d created. “This room leads to a bigger room, but I don’t want you to see the middle room yet. I need you to go back the other way.” 

He didn’t know how to explain it, but Johnny didn’t look like he was listening to Gabe, like he was in the current moment. It was like he was hypnotized by Gabe’s work, which left him very proud. “Why?” The other man finally told him, even as he was wandering back the way they had just come. “Stop worrying.”

The room to the right was laid out similarly to the left room. Instead of onion domes, there was a wall of blue ocean waves made out of blown glass, back lit the same as the other room. The sign for this one read: Cool Blue, 2020, glass. As an opposition to the piece in the other room, this one made the person feel like they were standing in water, like it was lapping gently at your feet. This room also felt warmer than the other room had. Winter vs Summer.

Seeing Johnny standing in the middle of this room made his stomach do little flip flops. The lighting brought out the blue in his eyes just right, which almost took Gabe’s breath away. God, that man was gorgeous.

On the opposite wall, there were three paintings, same as the other room. The first painting motor oil painted on a sheet of translucent blue glass. There were strong thighs, like the other room, but this was painted as a front view. This time, however, the space where the dick should have been was blank. It was an optical illusion making it appear as though the viewer was giving head. Seeing Johnny stand in front of it, gave Gabe a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. It just looked… weird seeing him standing like that in front of his own legs. The small sign next to it read: Masculine Vulnerability, 2018, glass.

Thankfully Johnny didn’t stand in front of it for very long before moving onto the next painting. If Gabe was totally honest, this painting was probably his favorite of all the paintings he had on display. The plaque for this one read: Ocean Dreams, 2019, canvas. For once one of his paintings was actually on a traditional canvas. It was layer after layer of blue and white paint, giving an ocean effect. In the beginning he hadn’t actually known what he was doing, but when he realized what effect the layers of paint had, he kept going. It turned out quite good, if you were to ask him. Johnny’s fingers hovered over it, like he wanted to touch, but he behaved himself this time.

The third painting was done on an old wooden glass window with four panes. He’d acquired it last year during one of his wandering through antique shop adventures, but he’d been hanging onto it for months, not sure what to do with it. A few weeks ago it had hit him, and he’d worked on it feverishly until it turned into what his mind had wanted.  In each pane was hand drawn burned out divorce papers. He’d painted carefully onto the backside of the glass so that if someone touched the front, the paint wouldn’t smear or flake. The sign for this one read: Burning Regret, 2020, glass.

Johnny stood in front of this one for a very long time, and when the meaning behind this piece, behind the show hit him, it was like watching a light bulb go off over the other man’s head. “I…” He watched his ex-husband swallow. “What’s next?”

It took Gabe a stupidly long moment to realize that they were holding hands again. When had that happened? The only place left to go was the room in the middle - to the piece that Gabe had been working on in the morning. To be fair, there were three pieces in there, but Gabe was only really worried about one of them. “You can’t touch the piece in there.” He reminded Johnny, knowing the other man too well. “You’ll know the one I’m talking about when you see it.” He whispered out. “I didn’t do a weight test on it yet. Eventually it’s going to be interactive, but I wanted it to be ready for this show. There’s a lot of starch, and glue, and magic holding it up.” He gave his ex’s hand a squeeze. “You go in first.” 

The first piece in the room was his latest piece in the Mythology of Muse series, Hades & Persephone. It was glass painted into wood. Like all of the pieces in this series, the subjects were seen from behind, and they weren’t wearing any clothing. This time it was two men, seen only from behind from the waist up. They’re holding hands, but their hands are burnt. One man was made to look like fire and ash while the other man was made to look like water with water lilies. The men balance each other out: fire and water, seemingly very different but necessary to the other to stay in check. Their bodies are tilted away from each other, but their heads are bent towards each other. 

Johnny stood in front of this piece for a very long time, and Gabe couldn’t help but to find himself wondering if Johnny understood what he was trying to say. As much as he loved his ex-husband, the man could be incredibly dense when Gabe’s art was about him. He never seemed to understand why Gabe found him so fascinating and why he was constantly a feature in his art. He hoped this time, he’d get it. Gabe thought it was pretty clear what the painting signified, but he was also the person who made it, so what did he know? 

The next piece in the room was a last minute addition. This was the piece he’d been obsessed with and made in the last week. He’d had inspiration after a conversation with Johnny and hadn’t been able to get the imagery they’d created during that conversation out of his head. It had been a couple of weeks ago, and Gabe had broken a mug. They’d stood in the kitchen of a house they’d designed together, but now belonged to Johnny. Blood had been pouring freely from Gabe’s hand while Johnny had stood between his legs, a cloth in hand as he tried to stop the bleeding. 

The sheer imagery of that moment, nothing longer than a few minutes, had bounced around Gabe’s head for days before he finally figured out a way to bring it to life. It had been his obsession this whole week. This was the piece Gabe had been the most nervous about. Every ounce of who he was and what he wanted to tell Johnny was poured out into this piece. 

It was an art installation piece, and there was a small stand with the plaque displaying the name: String of Fate, 2020, sculpture. It was a sculpture of two hands made out of glass, and it looked as though they were balancing on nothing but red string. 

One hand was made out of white glass and the other hand was made of black glass. The black hand was holding the white hand, forming imagery of yin and yang. It went along with his theme of two things balancing each other out. The white hand had a cut in the middle and red string poured out of it like blood. The string wrapped around both hands and the string twisted around and around in circles forming a stand that held the two hands up. The metal rods he’d been weaving into the string that morning seemed to be holding all right, which sent a wave of relief over him.

Unlike his other pieces, Johnny barely looked at this one before he was turning away from it. For a moment Gabe was terrified that the other man hated it, but then he saw his face. His face was flushed and tears were on his face. Before Gabe could process what was happening, Johnny’s hands were on his face and he was kissing him.

It was like coming home after a long time. The nerves were melting away. They still had a ton of shit to talk about and work through, but all that mattered in the given moment was that Johnny was kissing him. 

When Johnny pulled away, all Gabe could think to do was wipe the wetness away from his ex-husband’s face as the other man gently cupped Gabe’s jaw. “This is my love letter to you.” Gabe managed out when he was able to say words again. “I take it that you like it?” 

Johnny laughed. “Yes, I love it.” And his lips were on his again. “I love it.” He repeated, his hands moving to straighten Gabe’s shirt. “And everyone else will, too, but not as much as I do.” 

And that was all Gabe needed to hear for the stupid smile to slid onto his features. That was the only critic that Gabe ever cared about anyway.

“There’s another piece.” He murmured out, glancing back at Through the Looking Glass, an interactive piece that guests needed to literally walk through to get to the party in the other part of the gallery.

His ex nodded, and tugged Gabe against him. Suddenly Gabe forgot what they were talking about. 

9:30pm

The party was in full swing, and Gabe had long since been separated from Johnny. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t know where the other man was; he’d been able to catch his eyes from across the room all night. No, now came Gabe’s least favorite part, where he was being passed around from person to person. Weirdly enough, it reminded him of prison - that feeling of too many people in too small of a space. 

“Gabriel,” The art critic from the Times brought Gabe back into the present. “There seems to be an ongoing theme of duality in your pieces this evening. Is there a reason why you chose to call this show Reflections?”

He took a sip of champagne, if only to buy himself some additional time to think of his response. Why did these guys always assume that he had some sort of hidden meaning and philosophy behind his work? Thankfully over the years, he’d mostly gotten good at throwing random shit out there that the reporters tended to buy. 

“The duality theme is in reference to me and my exploration of who I am and what I wanted out of life. In general, every piece is a study of my own self-reflection. The past two and a half years have been about me figuring out who I am, what I want, and where my heart lies. Sure, there are mirrors. I’ve always enjoyed using mirrors as a canvas, but really all of this is a reflection of who I’ve become as a person.” And Jesus fuck. He needed to stop drinking soon. He always waxed poetic when he was buzzed and drunk.

The art critic ate up Gabe’s words and Gabe glanced around to see where Johnny had wandered off to. However, the next question had Gabe’s head whipping back to the critic. “Your break-up with D.A. Michaels was pretty public. Divorce tends to be messy when both parties are in the limelight. The political world and the art world are two very different scenes, but it was a pretty public breakup by New York standards nonetheless.”

Gabe didn’t know where the reporter was going with this, but he found himself finishing his drink and nodding anyway. “Yes, but we handled it maturely.” If anyone called one party losing himself in bottles and going to Hawaii with his legal secretary while the other got very very high at an artist’s retreat and then burning pictures from said Hawaii trip mature.

“I can see that.” The reporter said slowly, and Gabe just knew he was going to hate the next words out of the other man’s mouth. “Does your ex-husband usually come to all your shows? Or only when they’re about him?”

And suddenly Gabe wished he hadn’t finished his drink. What was it that Johnny had said when Juliet found him and Johnny kissing near String of Fate earlier and wanted to know what that made them? “I won’t be answering any questions about Jay- D.A. Michaels at this time.”

10:15pm

“OLD MAN!” Drew crashed into him, his brown hair smacking Gabe in the face. His arms looped around his neck, and Maxxie was staggering right behind him. Yep, someone had definitely been dipping into the free booze. Connie trailed behind them, which was a shock. Usually she wanted nothing to do with him and his art, but maybe she was sober and playing nice. Or maybe Drew had asked her to come because he knew how much it would mean to Gabe for both his children to be at his opening night. 

“There you are!” Drew announced. “I can’t believe you made all that stuff!” He leaned into him, and Gabe just laughed and gave his son a hug. “It’s so shiny!” 

“I think someone should be cutting you off soon.” He said with a laugh before turning his attention over to his daughter. To be fair, he wasn’t sure what his daughter was going to think about this show. “What did you think of the show?”

Connie shrugged and he realized now just how uncomfortable she looked. “You being good at art had never been your problem. You prioritizing your relationships and your art over us and mom was your problem.” She snapped out.

Her words made Gabe’s stomach turn, and he took a gulp of his fresh glass of champagne, watching as Maxxie and Drew wandered off. Being left alone with his daughter wasn’t exactly comfortable.

“Are you really getting back together with him?” And Gabe must have made a face because his daughter rolled her eyes. “You’re not a subtle person. Besides, I saw you guys holding hands earlier. You have a weird thing about holding hands. What was it that you told me once? It’s one of the most intimate things two people can do?” 

Gabe found himself blushing, but he didn’t break eye contact with his daughter. “It’s like someone pressed pause on an old cassette tape. It’s a little warped, but it still picks up where it left off.” He told her, his gaze searching across the room to find Johnny again. “Excuse me. You should probably keep an eye on your brother anyway.”

10:30pm

His back was pressed against one of the walls in the gallery, the light from the ocean room the only light. All he knew was that it was dark enough in the room that no one would find them, unless they were really looking for them. There were lips on his neck, a leg wedged between his, and a hand on his hip. For his part, he had one arm wrapped around Johnny’s neck and the other one on his ass.

“Think anyone will notice if we run away?” And at this point he’d had too many glasses of champagne and just wanted to be away from all the people.  

His ex was saying something, but Gabe wasn’t paying that much attention since he was kissing him, pulling back only to say one word before kissing him again. He was in sensory overload. All he could smell was Johnny, all he could feel was Johnny, and all he could taste was Johnny. In the back of his mind, he found himself wondering if he could taste the half a pack of cigarettes he’d smoked prior to Johnny picking him up. 

“Come home.” And Johnny wasn’t kissing him any more, but they were sharing the same air. They were so close that all Gabe needed to do was tilt his head up just right to kiss him again. The other man’s words caught Gabe off-guard. Home. That was such a foreign concept to him at this point. It was strange to think that after these years, Johnny still thought of the house as theirs. “Just for tonight, just so I can keep kissing you. Say yes and I’ll stop dragging you away from your party.”

Maybe it was the emotions of the day, or maybe it was the alcohol, but Gabe couldn’t imagine giving him any other answer than the word that poured easily out of his lips. “Okay.” And his mouth was on his again. “Okay.”

11:05pm

“Seriously?” Juliet groaned as she got a good look at Gabe who’d slipped out of the back part of the gallery before Johnny did. “What are you guys? Teenagers?” She wasn’t faring any better than Drew and Maxxie in terms of dipping into the free booze and her shoes were long since abandoned somewhere. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

Her hands straightened out Gabe’s shirt. “I really don’t want to know what you guys were doing in there.” She murmured out before trying to tuck the tail of Gabe’s shirt back in. “But you have a hickey on your neck.”

“I do not.” He said with a half laugh, twisting his head to see if he could see what she was talking about. There was a small flash of purple, and he groaned. “Okay, I do. I’m going to kill him.”

Juliet laughed. “It’s good to see you happy, Papa Bear.” She said, hugging him tightly. “Both of you.”

He sighed. “Jules, we still have a lot to work through.” He tried to tell her, but his step-daughter just laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll check on your dogs tomorrow.”

“That’s awfully presumptuous of you.” He called after her as she moved through the crowd of people for another drink. “And I’m already paying people to do that!”

1:38am

Stumbling into the bedroom, he toed his shoes off and dropped his jacket on the floor before flopping face-first, ass-up onto the bed. Johnny had taken Felony outside, and between the booze and his weird-ass pre-show sleep schedule, he was fucking exhausted. Blindly he reached out for Johnny’s pillow and buried his face into the fabric, inhaling the familiar and comforting scent. He was halfway asleep when the bed dipped and there were hands on his hips. 

“Take your pants off before you fall asleep, Briel.” He was being manhandled onto his back, and if it was anyone else, Gabe probably would have fought them on it, but it was Johnny and he trusted him. Johnny straddled his legs and unbuttoned his pants for him as Gabe laid there, watching him. “Really? You’re not going to help me at all?”

Gabe shook his head, sliding his hands to Johnny’s ass and pulling him down on top of him. “Uh uh.” He said, hugging his ex to him, nuzzling at his neck. “Shouldn’t have drank so much. Wasted a good opportunity.” He slid his hands under the back of Johnny’s shirt to pull him closer to him.

“This isn’t the last time you’re sleeping here.” Johnny said with a laugh before freezing and pulling back to look at Gabe. “It isn’t, right?”

Gabe rolled them over so he was straddling Johnny’s stomach. “Not even close to the last time.” He murmured out before kissing him. 

They were both too buzzed for it to lead anywhere else, but if there was one thing Gabe had always liked, it was kissing Johnny.

4:45am 

“Briel.” The bed dipped and Felony yelped from where she had been curled up next to Gabe’s hip as he slept. She jumped off the bed at the intrusion and wandered out of the room. 

“The rabbits have escaped the compound, babe. I need to find them.” He mumbled out, trying to stay asleep. “I can’t go to school yet.”

Laughing, Johnny pushed him into a sitting position, despite Gabe’s groans of protest. “Wake up.” He slid behind Gabe, leaning against the headboard and pulling Gabe against his chest. Kissing the side of Gabe’s jaw, he smacked his thigh with a newspaper. “I have today’s Times.” 

Now Gabe was awake. “I don’t want to read it.” He whined out, burying his face against Johnny’s chest. “I don’t want to know what he thinks of the show. He hated it. I’m sure he hated it.”

Ignoring him, Johnny flipped through the paper until he found the section he was looking for, and then pulled Arts and Design out so both he and Gabe could see the article. “It’s tradition.” He said, which was why he had a paper copy and not a digital copy. “Now shush and let me read to you.”

Unable to look at the page himself, he closed his eyes and let Johnny read the article to him. “The Duality of Reflection: GRT Gallery reopens with the hottest show in town.” Johnny nudged him. “That doesn’t sound bad so far.”

Gabe groaned, and opened his eyes. “Keep reading.” He whined out.

“There’s a sense of quiet upon walking into the GRT Gallery. The gallery has been sectioned off into four main rooms, which is Gabriel James’ style - transporting the viewer into the dreamscape that is his mind. The lighting is low lit, forcing calm over anyone who enters the gallery.

“The first room is nothing but a white wall with a series of mirrors mounted onto it. The mirrors set the stage for the other rooms in the show. It’s at this point where the guest gets to choose their own path. If they venture off to the left, they find themselves in a Russian themed room. Despite the harsh white lighting in the room, James’ signature style is more than evident in each piece, including his habit of sprinkling vulgarity and crudeness into his pieces.”

“Ugh.” Gabe rolled his eyes. “Ever since the penis tree, suddenly my style is vulgar.” He whined out.

Johnny laughed, the sound and motion making Gabe’s body vibrate. “Briel, you have a painting in this show that make it look like people are rounding third.” He pointed out, and Gabe didn’t have to turn around to know that the other man was smirking at him. “Anyway, where was I?”

“I have a vulgar style.” Gabe prompted, settling back against his ex again.

There was a kiss pressed against his shoulder before the reading continued. “According to James,” there was a nudge at his side as though to point out that the critic was now quoting him. “‘I was in a strange state of mind after moving back home from an extended stay in Russia. There was something cold about living there, and I’m not just talking about the snow.’”

Johnny laughed. “How drunk were you when they finally found you?” He asked, the paper shaking in his hands.

Gabe flipped him off. “Do I need to take over reading or are you going to do it?” He asked, half-turning his head to look at Johnny.

“If the guest goes to the right, they find themselves in a blue-themed room. Everything is soft and cast in shades of light blue. In spite of the soft colors, it’s very obvious that this room represents masculinity. The pieces in this room all have a theme, the jewel of this room being the overly textured Ocean Dreams.”

The sound that escaped Gabe’s mouth wasn’t entirely human. “Overly textured???? It’s just the right amount of fucking texture.” He hissed out, but Johnny ignored him and kept on reading.

“The pieces in the main room are the reasons for coming to see Reflections. ‘The middle room is the equivalent to my soul.’ James said in explanation to why the most striking pieces are the ones tucked away in the middle of the show. ‘These pieces are the most personal pieces I’ve ever created. As much as I overshare when it comes to my personal life, I like to keep some emotions bottled up and hidden. I finally came to a point in my life where I realized how stupid that was. I’m not ashamed of how I feel, and I need to share my feelings with the world.’”

Johnny stopped reading for a moment, and Gabe turned his head up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Keep reading.” He breathed out. “I need to know what he thinks of the other pieces.”

“The latest installation in the Mythology of Muse series is by far James’ best work in the series. The only other piece in the series that features a portrayal of James himself is Apollo & Artemis. James has said in interviews before that he doesn’t like including himself in his art so when he does, the pieces carry a deeper meaning than the ones without him in it. There’s a sense of awe that comes from seeing an artist included in their art - especially an artist like Gabriel James.”

Gabe closed his eyes, not wanting to see the paper any more. “I don’t want to know what he thinks about String of Fate. You liked it; that’s enough. I don’t need to know.” He said, almost nonsensically. 

Another kiss on his shoulder. “Yes, you do.” Johnny said before straightening the paper out again. “If you need one reason to see Reflections, go only to see String of Fate. Though all the pieces in Reflections are well-thought out and beautiful in their own right, String of Fate is James’ masterpiece. When art historians talk about James in the future, String of Fate will be the piece most associated with James. This will be the piece art students study.”

He couldn’t breathe. His eyes were open again, and somehow Gabe’s hands were clinging to Johnny’s arms. When had he even grabbed his arms?

“Reflections will be on display through the end of March at the GRT Gallery. Can’t make it before April? Don’t worry. String of Fate and Hades & Persephone will be on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art where Gabriel James will be the artist in residence throughout the summer season.”

Johnny hit Gabriel with the paper. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be at the MET this summer!” He accused.

Shaking his head, Gabe turned his head to look at Johnny. “I didn’t know.” He breathed out, looking at him in complete surprise. “Pants!” He scrambled out of the bed. “Where are my pants at?”

“The hamper.” His ex told him, before flushing as he realized what a married thing that had been to do. Gabe didn’t live there any more, but it seemed like Johnny had forgotten when he’d tossed both their pants in there. The simple gesture shouldn’t have made a grin appear on Gabe’s features, but it did none-the-less. “But I put your phone and wallet on the dresser where you usually, uh, used to put it.”

With shaking hands, Gabe unlocked his phone and scrolled through his texts, looking for the one from his agent, Sully. It felt like the air had been punched out of him as he read the text out loud. “Congratulations, G! We’ve gotten more than a dozen offers on your pieces, and a few museums that would like to purchase the rights to Ocean Dreams and Iced Out for both display purposes and to print reprints for sale. We also received a generous offer from the MET for Artist in Residence. I know how you feel about the MET and your relationship with them so I told them yes, pending a contract review. I know you’re probably celebrating so I’ll call you on Monday. Congrats, again!”

He set the phone back down on the dresser and in a daze walked back over to the bed. “I… they… I…” Once again he was experiencing sensory overload. Not knowing how to form words, he instead crawled onto Johnny’s lap, straddling his thighs. Only knowing one way to express the sheer amount of emotions that were washing over him right now, he pressed his lips against Johnny’s, kissing him as hard as he could until he couldn’t breathe any more. Then he buried his face into the crook of his neck as he struggled to catch his breath. And was he crying? Fuck, he was crying. 

“I told you they were going to love it.” His ex-husband soothed, his hands trailing gently up and down Gabe’s back. “Not as much as I did, but I told you they were going to love it.”

He nodded against the other man’s neck, still unable to talk. Maybe it was the sheer amount of emotions put into the show, or from the stress of reading the review, or the lack of normal sleep he’d gotten over the past couple of days, but within minutes he was asleep, still clinging to his ex-husband like he was the only thing keeping him anchored to the world. And maybe in this current moment in time, he was.