Hello Manhattan!
They arrived at the Plaza in the heart of Manhattan for lunch time on January 2nd 2011. Jamie wrapped a gloved arm around Dean’s as their driver pulled in.
“Jamie, I can’t believe you organised this. The hotel is beautiful.” He kissed Jamie’s forehead. He hovered, the heat was welcome in the cold of New York.
“Only the best for the best. I love this hotel. New York at its finest. We’re at our finest aren’t we Dean? It’s only right.” Jamie pressed his head against his shoulder.
Dean grabbed his head and whispered. “Our finest so far Trouble. So far. I love you.”
They arrived at reception, a joyous woman greeted them. Broad smile and kind face. Dean was always taken aback by the American overly friendly approach to strangers. He firmly believed that this level of friendliness was reserved for those in his life who he was related to, played rugby with, paid his salary or kissed him good night - every night. He was simple, straight forward. Then there was Jamie, his chaos went transatlantic.
“Molly? What a wonderful name. Mr Jamie Arden. I adore your uniform. I’ve been dying to stay here since I was a little boy. Sorry to be an imposition but see this wonderful man here? He’s my love. He turned thirty on New Year’s Eve. He might be a big boy, but he’s just an excited little kid when it comes to this wonderful city.” Jamie beamed. Molly, another victim falling under his spell.
“Oh Mr Arden. Aren’t you just a precious rascal. I’m going to see what I can do, anything to keep that smile on your face while you stay with us!” She clasped her hands together and disappeared.
Jamie turned, leaned back on the reception desk like he owned the place, clicked his fingers and pointed at Dean, winking. “Five, four, three, two…”
“Mr Arden?” Molly returned.
“One.” He spun round. Chin on fist grinning with expectation. “Yes Molly?” Dean bit his lip to keep from laughing hysterically.
“I hope this will help. I’ve upgraded you to one of our suites. It has a king bed and a terrace, with views over the city.” Molly jumped at her handy work.
“Molly you’re a doll. Hear that my love? King bed and a terrace.” Jamie smirked, swiped his credit card and away they went to explore their new home for the next four days.
In the lift, alone, Dean pushed him against the wall. “Arden. You’re too fucking good. Come here.” He kissed him hard. Despite his bravado in the lobby, Jamie whimpered and melted into Dean’s grip.
“Oh babe look at this place!” Jamie ran to the terrace doors and wrenched them open. “Hello Manhattan! Are you ready for us?!” He shouted into the wall of noise from the city. More frenzied than London. London was a steam train. Manhattan was high speed rail.
Dean grabbed him and pulled him to the bed. He held Jamie’s trench coat lapel in a fist. Jamie growled as the leather crackled. “Jamie. Shut up. I love you. I need you. Now. You’ve had me going since we got out of the fucking car.”
“Ok. Love me hard in The Plaza.” He giggled and rolled on top of Dean. The thought of so much city to cover in the next few days. The freedom of being away from everything. Just them. Their bodies in the most exciting city in the world. They christened the king bed as frantically as the city rushed passed by their terrace. No time to spare, a mess of leather and limbs.
Ground Zero
Later, they explored. They arrived at the site. They’d read that the memorial would open later that year, exactly ten years after the tragedy of that day. Jamie went silent. His breathing heavy.
“Babe, are you alright?” Dean put a hand to his shoulder. He frowned, the site seemed to move Jamie.
Jamie wiped a tear. “Yeah. I’m fine. My god. The tragedy here, it’s still physical isn’t it? Like the horror is still in the air. This city is scarred. It’ll never go away. So many people.” Jamie wiped his eyes and hid his face.
“Hey. Come here.” Dean pulled him in tight. He was astonished at how something that happened so far away managed to affect Jamie so deeply. “It’s awful I know. I love you. You love so much.” Dean’s lip quivered. It wasn’t what had happened here, it was the emotion Jamie carried for the atrocity. His compassion for those who perished.
“Where were you Dean? When the news broke?” Jamie spoke into his chest.
“I was in last year of uni. It was early afternoon. I think I was in the library, in Manchester. Everyone just stared at the televisions. Frozen. It’s weird, we all felt under attack. Everyone. Even in Britain. What about you?” He held him there.
“I was walking into the house after school. Mum was glued to the TV. Tears in her eyes. I think it was the sheer horror. I think I understood back then but not the way I do now.” Jamie moved away slightly. “Thank you. Sorry I just feel a lot. But you know just what to do. I hope they’re all at peace. Every one of them. My heart aches for their families.” He began to walk away.
“Babe? I need to get you somewhere warm. Now.” Dean’s instincts kicked in. He wanted to get Jamie somewhere small. Keep him from unravelling. New York was large, extreme, busy, unchartered, Jamie needed boxing in for a moment.
“Can we get a coffee? I’d like that.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather trench coat and smiled. Finally. Allowing himself a little sense of happiness. Surrounded by loss.
“You bet.” Dean guided him away.
They found a coffee shop a few blocks away. Jamie’s smile broke out across his face. The coffee in the air, the sounds of the milk froth, chatter among the New Yorkers. He soaked it up. Dean thought he looked adorable. A slight sheen to his cheeks from the warmth of the cafe, his cheeks a little rosey. He looked younger in that moment somehow. Innocent.
“Jaim, that had such an effect on you back there. I know it was awful but what made you react like that? I’m not asking for a justification, just to understand why.” Dean held his thumb. I’m here. Don’t worry.
“I know. I’m sorry. My head sometimes. Emotion builds up and I don’t know how to manage it. So it just flies out of my eyeballs.”
“I get it. I get it. You shouldn’t apologise. It’s an amazing side to you. Your compassion for others. I just hope I’m there every time you feel something that deep. It makes me shudder to think I can’t be there to catch you each time.”
Jamie’s turn to comfort Dean. His fingers stroked Dean’s arm subtly. “I know. Thank you. I’ll try my best. But you can’t save me all the time. You the same remember? You bottle up too much and I let it fall out of my eyes in an instant. We’re nightmares, remember?” He laughed. “You won’t be there when I need you every time. And before you panic, that’s life. That’s where the trust bit comes in.” Jamie managed to pivot from inconsolable to profound common sense in a block of the city. Dean smiled. He didn’t have an argument. He squeezed his thumb one more time and let Jamie go. His heart held on.
Delmonico’s
That night they dined at Delmonico’s on William Street. One of the oldest restaurants in New York. History and stories in its walls for Jamie, steak for Dean. “I’m blown away by how much you planned for us babe. I’m so grateful. And you didn’t need to.”
“Dean? Stop.” Jamie held his hand under the menu.
“What? What I say?” His cheeks flushed and he forgot everything else around him. Jamie’s attention on him made him freeze in time.
“You deserve it all. No arguments. You know what? I’m kind of sad for you sometimes.” Jamie started to laugh.
“I don’t understand.” Dean’s big eyebrows furrowed.
“I’m sad for you, that you will never get to sit where I am. You’ll never get to just sit here and witness you. I know you’re my Big Boy but god I wish I could just wrap you up in my pocket. You’re so cute. It’s heartbreaking.” Jamie went back to his menu and ordered a Manhattan cocktail. Dean, an Old Fashioned from the beautiful waitress.
“Well, I don’t think I’d fit in your pocket but I’ll take your word for it. Same to you. You don’t get to see what I see.” He clasped his hands together and leaned forward.
Jamie wanted him. Manhattan was coursing through his veins. “Oh yeah? What’s that Big Boy?” Jamie’s shoe found Dean’s mound. Thank god for floor length white table cloths. He was hot, heavy and hard. His thighs tightened around Jamie’s shoe. He got his Manolos. Dean’s practicality in Paris, forgotten in Manhattan. Fuck the suit.
“I see the sexiest man alive in front of me. Jamie, you’re going to be so fucking tired going back to London. I work out a lot, I can go for fucking hours. You know this. Be warned. Don’t test me.” Dean bit his lip as Jamie dug his foot in deeper between his thighs. Dean was resting across the top of his foot now. Their jaws tensed at each other. If looks could fuck.
“I’m a runner. I have stamina. I’ll test you all I fucking want.” Jamie jabbed hard and removed his foot. Dean laughed and mouthed fuck you.
Back to the Plaza they went. After an evening of sparring with each other, they were sufficiently hungry for the final course of the evening. Jamie got what he deserved, he continued to test Dean long after their dinner plates were cleared and the last cocktail was drunk. Dean stayed true to his word, he went for hours. Jamie kept up and took what ever Dean gave him, willingly. Over and over. This city never sleeps, so they didn’t either.
Bergdorf’s
The next morning, Jamie rose and welcomed breakfast and coffee. He couldn’t wait to take a coffee on their terrace. He lit a cigarette. He was sober but felt it made him more New York that morning. Dean was woken by the activity in the room. He went to the terrace door. Jamie in his robe leaning.
“Good morning Trouble. Hey, I never asked, why The Plaza?” He went to pour himself coffee. Jamie looked back. Dean wore nothing. It was everything.
“Fuck Dean. Put it away, or we won’t get out in the city this morning.” Dean smirked and grabbed his cock playfully. “Uh anyway, why? It’s the history. The scandal. Life’s rather fun with a little naughty don’t you think? This is where Truman Capote held the Black and White Ball in 1969. High society together for a night of excess. Life isn’t like that anymore. Everyone is too scared of what people think.” Jamie flicked his cigarette into the flowerpot. Not very The Plaza, but very possibly his point.
Dean smiled. “I remember something about him. Didn’t he absolutely do a number on his friends? Exposing all their secrets?” Jamie leant around Dean’s neck.
“Look at you up on all your pop culture history. That’s true, he did get a little too comfortable and took his friends for granted I suppose you could say. That bit aside, it looked exciting. The Factory, Studio 54, Vogue on Lexington Avenue, Chelsea Hotel, Bergdorf’s, La Cote Basque.” Jamie kissed him and smiled.
“Open your mouth.” Dean whispered.
“Ahhh!”
Dean shoved a muffin in his mouth. “Shut up. You know I have little idea what you’re talking about. Listen, I know this trip was for me but, let’s have your day. Shopping in those stores, tracking down those places. I’m up for it. It makes you happy. So I want to do it.” Dean pulled him in. His firmness waking him up as the coffee coursed through him.
“Are you sure? We can come back and do my stuff. Look I have a list for today. Aren’t you impressed?”
Jamie went to the notes app on his phone. Dean grabbed it and placed it behind him.
“I am. I’m touched but no. Let’s do your day. I’m serious. Get in the shower though first.”
“Dean I’m clean. I showered while you slept.”
He slapped Jamie’s behind hard. It stung. Jamie clamped his thighs around him. “Yeah, you’re about to get really fucking dirty again.”
Jamie giggled as Dean pushed him into the bathroom. Like any highly sexed New York couple that morning, they fucked in the shower before heading out. After cigarettes, muffins and coffee, of course.
They arrived outside the Chelsea Hotel. Jamie took it in. “So many creative and tortured souls stayed here. Isn’t it sad though, with genius there’s always a little madness? Starting out as outcasts but their creativity gave us music, poetry, art and books. They shaped the world. I hope those souls know how much of a mark they left.” Jamie’s spoke without looking down from the building.
Dean was left wondering how much he was talking about himself or the souls he was referring to. Dean loved his hopeless romantic, with a brilliant mind. He wished, with every second of every day that the feeling of being different, the torturing his own soul had experienced before they met, was becoming scar tissue. Not a present battle he felt he had to fight. Perhaps Jamie saw himself embodied in this city. Dean placed his hand over the back of Jamie’s neck. He watched Jamie deflate. Like Dean said to Martha a few months ago. Don’t try to figure him out. He is who is.
“Thank you.” Jamie was gone, almost skipping down the road to his next destination. Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, giggled and trudged after him. He loved his life now.
They jumped on the subway to Fifth Avenue, Bergdorf Goodman was calling Jamie. Dean stood a little behind and looked on in amusement. He corrected himself, the only time he wanted Jamie to feel all the emotions and not worry he was not around, was when he was browsing the finest boutiques and stores in the world. He grabbed his shoulders. “Buy what you want. It’s on me.”
Jamie spun round. “Dean, no. I didn’t bring you here to buy me something. That wasn’t my intention. If we’re doing my day, I just wanted to visit the store with you. Nothing more. Dean you’re so sweet.”
“Arden. My orders. Go. Shop. Do you reckon they do rugby shorts in here? On sale?” He got Jamie in a playful headlock as they approached the doors. They straightened. Dean bowed at the security guard. Jamie gave him a salute. Silliness looked beautiful on them.
Jamie came across an Alexander McQueen piece. A deconstructed dinner jacket. Jamie embodied in a piece of clothing: Smart, elegant and totally bonkers. He held the sleeves and considered the work. The oversized lapels, the pinstripe, overlays of fabric at the waist. It was a work of art.
“Is this what you want?” Dean came beside him, inhaling a yawn. He struggled with fashion. He was trying to learn but he just didn’t get it. Despite looking like one of the models plastered all over the walls in the store.
“Fuck off Dean. No way.” Jamie snapped his head to him. “He’s a wonderful designer. You know he commuted suicide last year? Such a brilliant mind. What a loss.”
“Jamie. I want you to have it. We have money. It’s not a worry. Have it. You look like royalty in just my old gym t shirts too though, I’ll admit. In fact. Excuse me, sorry are we able to have this measured for my beautiful man here please? He’s in love with this piece. We’re on a trip and would very much like to have it ready by tomorrow evening if possible?” Dean asked the assistant. Jamie put his hand to his mouth and grinned.
“Of course sir.” She whipped her tape measure out and Jamie was silent. Possibly shock. For the first time in hours.
“And you are?” Dean asked.
“Betty, Sir.” The stout woman circled Jamie with a smile.
“Thank you Betty. The McQueen fan here is Jamie and I’m Dean. Thank you for helping. Can you see his smile? That’s why we need this jacket.”
“I do indeed. Very good taste Jamie. So sad he passed. You know the Met Gala is dedicated to him this year?” Betty offered.
Jamie lit up at the fashion centred exchange. “Oh I know. I think his pieces are fantastic. I was so sad to hear he’d died. I’ll be looking in the pages of Vogue this summer for sure. Between me and you Betty, he’s a rugby fan. Fashion is my sport. He doesn’t get this.” He giggled with her. Dean rolled his eyes with a smile.
“I heard that.” Dean’s handsome smile made Jamie’s insides sing.
A little while later, they had champagne and left Jamie’s new jacket in Betty’s safe hands.
“You didn’t have to do that but I’m blown away Dean. God.”
“What’s up Arden?”
Jamie pulled at his coat, rocking on his heels. “I just don’t feel like I deserve you ever. Thank fuck for you Dean Archer. Seriously.”
“Hey. Will you chill out. I’m buying my boyfriend something he loves. Simple.” Dean rubbed his arms.
“Ok. Ok. Yeah. Ok.” Jamie settled into Dean’s words like he did his new tailored jacket.
Met Life Stadium
Back at the hotel Jamie handled the tickets for the game. He had no idea whether American football would be something Dean would want to see but he thought it would at least give him a sports fix. He huffed and turned. “Look, I know you’re a rugby guy, but it’s not as big over here. I made a loose connection to American football?”
Dean threw his phone on the bed and scooped him up. “What have you done Arden? More plans?”
“I got us these?” Jamie pushed the tickets to a Giants game at the Met Life stadium into his chest. Jamie was despondent, not sure how Dean would take the offer. He had his confirmation immediately. Dean dropped him like a discarded toy. He loved it. It was the reaction he hoped for.
Dean huddled over the tickets. “Oh wow Jaim. You’ve got to stop! I know sport isn’t really your thing but I’ve always wanted to see an NFL game. And in the new stadium! You know it only opened earlier this year?! My god, come here.” Dean pulled him in with one hand and stared at the tickets in the his other.
“So you’re happy?” Jamie smoothed his chest.
“Happy?! This is going to be fucking fun. For me anyway. Hot dogs, beer, football.” He paused and looked into Jamie’s eyes. “You.”
They got to the stadium for kick off. Dean was lost in the atmosphere. He was deep in conversation with fellow fans around him. Jamie smiled. This was love. Watching Dean enjoy himself and expecting nothing in return.
It gave him a moment, like he did on that flight to Paris to consider Dean again. His whole body tensed at the sight of Big Boy beside him, just joy at being by his side.
He looked Dean over. Savouring all his favourite details. The way his hair curled round the back of his neck. Jamie would lose minutes, hours wrapping that curl around his index finger, while Dean snored on his chest. The pink in his cheeks, a reliable indicator for how happy he was. Jamie giggled, the same pink that rose in his cheeks usually after Jamie suggested something dirty in an inappropriate place. His big blue eyes darting around the stadium. Filled with so much concern at times and animal like hunger the next. His wonderful shoulders, rounded now, deep in conversation with a fellow fan. Jamie sighed. He was completely happy being ignored. His day dream was broken.
“Jamie, meet Al. This is his wife Cassie.” Jamie snapped back to reality.
“Good evening both, lovely to meet you.” He smiled warmly at their new friends.
Kick off interrupted the conversation and quickly Cassie whispered to Dean. “I think Cassie has as much interest in this as you. Can I swap sweats, me and Al can talk ball and you won’t be bored.”
“Ok no problem. Hey don’t worry about me. I’m very happy watching you enjoy yourself. It’s so cute.”
“Ok. If you’re sure. Love you and thank you again, this is brilliant.” Dean stopped himself from kissing him. Their eyes closed on each other. We know what we can and cannot do. Still. It’s sad. But we have to be careful. Go talk ball.
“Jamie. Oh thank god. I can’t listen to football anymore. Great to meet you. How do you like New York honey? Gosh you’re like an angel. So pretty.”
“Hey Cassie. We love it. I’m not into sport that much. Fitness yeah but nothing else. It’s Dean’s thirtieth gift from me. He deserves it. He’s magnificent don’t you know? And thanks you, I’m no angel though.” He giggled wickedly.
“Well he seems like a swell guy. You two look like models for god sake. Look what I got.” Cassie pulled a bottle of wine out of her bag.
Cassie and Jamie giggled all the way through the game. Dean ate hot dogs and drank beers with Al. It was such a simple evening but it was perfect. Jamie and Cassie agreed to follow each other on social media and to stay in touch.
Central Park
“Good morning handsome.” Dean wrapped Jamie up in his arms, their last full day in Manhattan was just beginning.
“Wow, someone’s ready to go already.” Jamie gasped as Dean’s hardness pushed against his inner thigh. “What’s gotten into you this morning? Not that I’m complaining.”
“I’m just thankful for you. You make me and my heart very happy. Thank you from both of us.” He kissed him on the nose. Dean could be the most sexual creature and adorable, all in the same grab of Jamie’s waist.
“Oh fuck Dean yes.” Jamie gripped the pillow as Dean drove deep into him. Dean didn’t kiss, didn’t talk. His actions meant more. He loved Jamie hard, before jumping in the shower.
“You need a coat and gloves for today.” Jamie ordered, as they dressed. “Nothing complicated. We’re going to take a picnic and sit in Central Park.” Jamie smiled, he hoped the simple plan wasn’t a huge climb down from everything else.
Dean came behind him and wrapped his arm around his waist, kissing his cheek. “Perfect.” He slapped Jamie’s behind and went to continue getting himself ready. Jamie grinned into the mirror.
They happened upon a bench in Central Park. Unpacking the picnic in between them. Jamie stole glances at Dean, his eyes wide as the food appeared. Dean’s relationship with food was an endless source of entertainment for Jamie.
“What you laughing at Arden?” Dean picked at the olives, licking his lips.
“I am laughing at you actually. Sorry, I know it sounds shitty but I am. Not in a bad way, I just love your face. You around food is the same as me in Bergdorf’s. Please never change.” Jamie looked around quickly, coast clear, and put a hand to Dean’s cheek. Dean leaned into it and gave it the faintest kiss.
“Don’t come between me and my food, boy. You know that.” Dean smirked, making his way onto the prosciutto ham. Jamie sighed, Dean’s tongue played with it as he folded it into his mouth. That tongue can do unspeakably naughty things.
“Babe, we never talk about growing up. What was baby Dean like? What was coming out like in the Archer household?” Jamie braced himself, this topic could always be tricky depending on the person being asked, and their experience.
Dean swallowed another mouthful of the meat. “Hmm well sorry to be a bore but my coming out was pretty uneventful. I had that urge all of a sudden, after school at seventeen one afternoon, like I’d been baking this realisation in my head for so long and it was ready to share. Mum was fine, Dad worried about bullying. I think that’s where my training came from. Getting big to fend off arsehole homophobes. Ready to fight the bullies that never came.” Dean leaned back and stretched. His sweater rolled up a little and Jamie caught his abs again. He groaned under his breath. Dean was completely ignorant to how sexual he was, every waking minute Jamie wanted to pounce.
“Well we’re lucky. I’m the same. To be honest I don’t think it was a shock to mum and dad. Dad was worried because of my head, he thought it was something else to complicate me.” Jamie’s face drifted into pain.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” Dean snapped back and leaned into him. Holding the back of his neck. Jamie sighed and his lip started to wobble. “Jamie, tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Christ, it’s not the coming out. It’s everything else. I know I always say I don’t deserve you. But you need to understand why.” He shifted and wiped a tear away with his black leather glove. “I was bullied relentlessly growing up. Fuck I was such an awkward kid. Bad skin, goofy teeth, quiet. I was fair game for them. It was awful. They got into my head. It wasn’t just them. Teachers, lecturers all the same. Telling me I wouldn’t amount to anything because I was a weak boy with a busy mind. How could I possibly get anywhere.”
Jamie sniffed in his tears. He wanted to share this part of him. Get the misery that had haunted him for years out and leave it in New York. Leave it to decay and die in Central Park. Dean was the reason he could face it. “So I worked my ass off in school and uni to prove them wrong. I got into running to help me run away from those voices.” His voice started to break. “Those voices tell me that I’m never good enough.” He heaved and crashed into Dean’s chest and let it all out.
“Jamie. I’m heartbroken for you. You’re an incredible person. Look where you are now. That’s all you. Every single achievement is all you. I hope I’ve given you the strength to tell those voices to finally shut up and leave.” He held him tight.
“You have. Thats what you’ve given me. The ability to be all the parts of me. I’ll never be able to fully put into words how precious that is to me.” Jamie began to calm.
“Then don’t. I don’t need to be told. Maybe it was fate. I needed to meet you to help you and you needed to meet me to help me. Isn’t that a brilliant way to look at it?” Dean rubbed his chin against Jamie’s head. The more tight he held him, the more he hoped those horrible voices and memories would be pushed out of him.
Jamie bolted up right and looked Dean in the eyes. His face red and blotchy. “I love that. Do you believe in magic, Dean? I do. I think that’s what we have.” Jamie smiled proudly.
“I do now.” Dean cupped Jamie’s chin and pulled him in for a kiss. He didn’t care they were in public, it needed to be done. Jamie needed to know he was finally ok to be him because there was no one left to disprove. The old Jamie started to drift away on New Year’s Eve. The remnants of his trauma were finally leaving too. Dean was the permission he gave himself to evolve.
Village Vanguard
Later, Jamie was absolutely sure their last night must be done in style. The conversation in Central Park changed him physically in the hours that had passed since. He felt lighter, stronger. Revived and absolutely now a force to be reckoned with in this life. Dean being the absolute force behind driving his determination to love himself again. He smiled at Dean dressing behind him in the mirror, he slipped into his new McQueen, ready for their last evening.
“Well, money well spent I think Archer. As expected, you’re a knock out in New York too.” Dean considered Jamie proudly. That childish sense of fancying someone, always the case when he looked at him.
“Thank you again. It’s a beauty and I’ll treasure it for years to come. Oh you’re wearing a black shirt? Is that for my benefit? You know what happens when a black shirt is involved.” Jamie’s eye’s moved slowly over him. As he did when perusing the finest menu in town.
“Maybe a little to do with it. Yeah. So what are doing with me tonight?” Dean pulled Jamie to him.
“We love our jazz, it’s our thing. We can’t leave New York without hitting a jazz club. Let’s say goodbye in style.” He laced his hands around Dean’s neck. He loved to hang there, Dean’s castle like strength, looking back up into his eyes. Dean would catch him.
“Sounds like a plan Arden. Let’s do it.”
They arrived at The Village Vanguard. Jamie always searching for meaning behind everything, every memory being made, he wanted to find the romance in it. The venue originally opened as a space for poets and artists to showcase their talents, something spoke to Jamie as he read.
They settled into the table, front and centre. A young jazz singer crooned on the stage. Jamie’s shoulders rose to his ears. The atmosphere consuming him. They barely spoke. There was no need, they’d found something they loved equally apart from each other. Dean went to the bar.
“I’ve been watching you both.” A gruff voice came from the end of the bar. Dean looked, a man with thick lines on his face, stringy grey hair, snaking his shoulders from under his trilby. A gnarled hand held a glass of amber liquid.
“Excuse me?” Dean wasn’t about to have his evening disturbed by anyone.
“Name’s Earl. I assume you’re with the blonde over there?” Earl enquired. “It’s wonderful to see. How things have moved on. Admired the confidence you two carried as you walked in. In love no doubt?”
“Uh, yes you’d be right. We’re visiting, on a trip.” Dean still wasn’t sure what this guy’s agenda was.
“My blonde passed back in the late eighties. I come back here every now and then to sit in the place that made him happiest. Can I buy you both a drink?”
Dean softened. “Earl, the name’s Dean. Over there, that’s my Jamie. We love jazz. I’m sorry to hear of your partner’s passing. I don’t think that pain ever goes away, don’t think it is ever really meant to.” Dean moved slowly to him.
“I think you’re right. Sorry to sound a little creepy to begin with. I was just taken back in time to me and him frequenting this place. It was safe, we could be us here. It wasn’t as easy back then.”
“I get you Earl. It’s still not that straightforward, no pun intended, but I’ll admit it must be better than it was. Why don’t you join us? Jamie is always about listening to stories, he’d love to hear yours. What was your partner’s name?” Dean didn’t want to ask what happened. Maybe Earl would offer this of his own accord.
“Daniel, but he went by Danny. Our plague got him in the end. I lost so many friends it’s breathtaking. Would you mind? I don’t want to intrude.”
“Intrude? We walk into a jazz bar in New York and bump into a man who’s here to honour his partner? Are you kidding? Get over to our table.” Dean gestured as their drinks arrived. Smiling. He briefly thought how he would have brushed this man’s advances off before, Jamie had softened him. Influenced him. His insides warmed at the realisation.
“Jamie, meet Earl. He’s joining us if you’re ok with that. He’s kindly bought us drinks too.” Dean gestured to Earl to sit with them again. He appeared a little uncertain but Jamie’s reaction made his nerves settle immediately. That was Jamie.
“Good evening Earl. I love your name, so regal. Of course. Making friends in New York is quickly becoming my new favourite passed time.” Jamie reached out a hand. A smile broke out over Earl’s face. He hadn’t smiled like that in years.
“Lovely to meet you Jamie and thank you for allowing a lonely old fool like me to join you and your kind man.”
“Of course. Isn’t this place brilliant? We couldn’t leave New York tomorrow without getting our jazz fix.” Jamie pulled at Dean’s suit sleeve tenderly.
Earl caught the touch he giggled. “I met my Danny here in the seventies. I’m sixty five now. He’s no longer with us. The plague got him. I was telling Dean.”
Jamie reached a hand out and placed it on Earl’s. “I’m so sorry Earl. I’m sure he’s with us here. I hope he’s smiling. Like you are now. Despite sadness it’s ok to smile. We have to tell them we’re ok. We’re missing them but we’re doing our best without them.”
Dean’s head moved slowly to look at Jamie. He swallowed. He couldn’t believe the compassion again. Jamie was heaven sent, if he believed. He grabbed Jamie’s shoulder and squeezed. I’m so proud to be with you.
“Well isn’t that just the most pure thing I’ve ever heard. You seem very taken with this place Jamie. It’s rare, a young man like you, shouldn’t you both be in one of those hideous clubs with your tops off dancing?”
“Oh we get up to that too. But not tonight. All I need is brilliant music, poetry, a place with a story to tell, this man right here, and new friends. That’s what memories are about. The quiet moments. When you can actually savour it all. I love words Earl, poetry, books, they let me escape when I need to.”
“Danny was a poet. We met here. He recited his work on stage and came to join me. At this table can you believe it? He was sat where you are now. The rest was history as the saying goes. We didn’t have a lot of money and homophobia was violently rife. This was a safe space. Creative creatures have the kindest hearts.”
“Bless you Earl. I’m sat in history. I love that. Oh if we had time I’d love to have read some of his work.”
Earl frowned and then pulled out a folded, aged piece of paper. “Jamie, I think we were meant to meet this evening. Danny always wanted to visit London, we just could not afford it. It never happened for us.” Earl placed the paper on the table. “This was a poem written by Danny for me. Being outwardly affectionate was dangerous back then, but he had his words. I carry this with me everywhere.” Earl leaned forward. “Jamie, can I ask you to do something for me?”
Jamie gripped the chair. “What can I do for you Earl? Tell me.”
“I have no family to speak of. No one left anymore. This poem will outlive me. Would you take it back to London with you? At least Danny will have got to see your beautiful city. I’ll be a happy man knowing this piece of him is in safe and rightful hands in London.”
“Earl, I can’t possibly. This is too precious to take away from you.” Jamie choked up and put a hand to his mouth.
“I want you to take it. Please tell me you will.”
Dean grabbed Jamie’s shoulder. “He will Earl. He’ll look after Danny for you. We promise.”
Jamie looked at Earl. His eyes straining, trying to figure out why this beautiful moment was being bestowed upon him. Then he remembered the conversation in Central Park with Dean. “I will. Don’t worry Earl. Danny can come home with us. Thank you for giving me such a gift. I’ll treasure it, him and you.”
They said their goodbyes. “Earl, take care of yourself. Please do. Take our email addresses if you can write to us maybe? When we come back to New York I want to see you.” Jamie hugged him tightly.
“I do have email actually. I’ll do my best. Jamie, if you don’t hear from me again, please don’t be sad. Tonight was meant to happen somehow. I’m grateful I met you both. Take care of him for me.”
Jamie walked away with tears in his eyes. He’d done that a lot lately but felt empowered, tears were falling more from joy and realising who he was than the pain from the years before.
Dean held his shoulder as they moved out into the night.
They made their way back to The Plaza. Jamie was quiet. Dean let him swim in the memory of the evening.
In the room Dean cupped his face and kissed him. “You’re incredible. Everyone just loves you. You have this ability to make everyone feel at ease, be real, exposed and vulnerable. It really is magic.”
“Only because you’re here with me. You make it ok to be me.” They kissed.
“Make love to me Jamie.” Dean pulled Jamie to the bed. Jamie didn’t protest. He evolved again that day in New York. Dean let him take control. He was more powerful than before. It wasn’t frenzied it was heavy and meaningful. Jamie asserted himself, this was a statement. The new him was going to be felt by Dean everywhere. Each push of his hips, Dean felt deeply. He tightened around Jamie as they both reached their end. They collapsed to sleep. Jamie on Dean’s chest until morning.
On the plane the following morning Dean slept immediately. As they ascended, Jamie looked back out of his window, New York disappearing. He smiled. More memories to cherish, the remnants of his old self, haunting Central Park, not him anymore. He was feeling revived. Finally. He was heading back to London, Dean by his side and Danny in his pocket.
