021 (proposals and renewals) [SCW]

together can unleash an avalanche of destruction.

— Larry Kersten

Friday, December 31, 2010

DESPITE THE FACT THAT THE INFAMOUS BALL was blazing outside the windows, the television inside the suite was also tuned to the live feed Rockin' New Years Eve coverage. The volume was almost inaudible although Gowan was fidgeting, doing his best to read Ryan Seacrest's lips to figure out what he was rambling about. "Five minutes until we usher in a new year," he said, turning his head to look over at his companion. "I guess depending on where you are and what you're doing, they could be the longest or the shortest of 2010."

"Well, think of it this way, it's already been and gone in Australia," Chauncy offered, settling down at the little table by the window and peering out at the crowd. "It seems a lot more pleasant from a suitable distance."

"It is. And far warmer as well, I'd wager. Not that I have anything against those fine folks. It's just that tonight I'd much rather spend my time with you— only you." Before Chauncy could say anything to that, Gowan turned towards the bedroom of the suite. "I'll be right back. I nearly forgot something important."

Chauncy opened his mouth to call out, to ask what it was that Lawrence could possibly have forgotten that couldn't wait five minutes, but held his tongue. The last thing he'd want would be to start the new year on the sort of note that would bring. No, this was going to be a good year. The year. The unmistakable sound of a cork being popped from a bottle filled the silence and a few seconds later Larry returned with two champagne flutes in hand.

"We can't very well ring in the year without a toast," he explained as his eyes met Chauncy's. "That'd be completely uncivilized." He joined Chauncy at the little table again, glancing at the crowd down below. Pushing one of the glasses towards him, "don't worry. It's just sparking grape juice. Not wine."

He lifted the glass, turned it in one hand, letting the liquid catch the light with a slightly bemused smile. "That was very thoughtful. How entirely you." He reached out, laying fingertips on Larry's arm. "Thank you."

"This last year," Gowan said softly, his eyes flicking to the fingers on his arm before moving back up to Chauncy's face, "I couldn't have done any of that without you. My return to the ring only happened because of you— God, can you believe it's almost been two years since the pieces fell back into place?" He was rambling. He knew he was rambling and by the look on Chauncy's face, he knew as well. "I guess what I'm trying to say is: no, thank you. For everything, Skippy. I wouldn't be here otherwise." He lifted his glass, holding it out. "To us... may what we have never fade away."

To somebody who didn't know Chauncy, the pause to stare into his glass before raising it high, coupled with the almost impassive expression, would seem cold, almost uncaring. But of course it was the opposite: a means to stay in control of emotions that were threatening to draw him completely out of control. "Never. Yes, to us." The tightness in his voice— oh how hard control could be at times.

Gowan clinked his glass against his partner's, feeling that subtle little vibration travel up the crystal stem to his fingers. He lifted it to his lips, taking a gulp of the sickly-sweet juice, wishing it contained alcohol because what he was about to do would require a level of courage he had never possessed. "Two more minutes," he confirmed it with a glance between the television and the crowd down below. "I'm terribly forgetful these days," the lead-in came out naturally enough, "I realize I forgot to give you the most important part of your Christmas gift." A wan smile was on his lips as he paused, taking another small sip simply to stall. "I am a better person with you in my life— Chauncy, I love you." The fact that he used his partner's actual name lent a gravity to the words beyond that expression on his face. He swallowed hard, his voice growing a tad raspier than usual, "I know I don't say it as often as I should. Sometimes I feel like my heart on my sleeve is too messy... I wish I could be more stoic and unflappable like you. I know that's why you're such a good foil for me. Your strengths are my weaknesses." He slid his hand into the pocket of his dress pants, withdrawing a small little ring box and palming it as he glanced over at the television again. "One minute left of this year. Now or never..."

Chauncy's eyes widened, mouth forming a little 'o'. He felt neither stoic nor unflappable, eyes prickling a little. "Now would be good."

Nodding, Gowan slipped to his feet and moved closer to where Chauncy sat. With a graceful flourish, he knelt down and rested one hand on Chauncy's knee. "There's nobody else in the world that compares to you. Nobody I've ever felt this way about before or ever will again, I'm sure. Will you marry me?" On the heels of the heaviest question ever, he popped open the box and held it out. Inside was a simple platinum band etched with Celtic knot work— tastefully elegant just like the man it was intended for.

Silence drew out between them, with not the slightest reaction from Chauncy save for the subtle twitch of his fingers. He could feel the pulse jumping in his neck, and was quite sure that if he dared breathe, he'd exhale on a sob, so he tacked down all of his edges and just stared, knowing that later on this moment would haunt him with the wrongness of his reaction: the complete opposite to what he was feeling.

The silence was like a living thing, a sudden and unwanted visitor that made the room feel positively claustrophobic. The sound of the crowd suddenly swelled down below, that rumble echoed a second later from nearly muted TV. Gowan's hand shook but he kept it extended, that box still balanced just so. "Say something," he almost choked on the words, "please."

"I... Lawrence, I would be delighted." He coughed rather than choke. "I'm afraid you rather caught me by surprise. A good surprise." One hand extended. "If you'd do the honours."

Tears filled his eyes but he blinked them away, suddenly awkward as he tried to free the ring from its confines. The cheer was audible as it ripped free— timing was everything, it seemed— he glanced at the television to confirm. The ball had dropped and Auld Lang Syne was playing. "Happy New Year," he murmured, finally slipping it onto the appropriate finger.

(the present: San Juan)

Monday, June 1, 2015

Fresh from the shower, Larry Gowan walked back into the bedroom of their hotel suite, still rubbing his much shorter hair with the towel to get rid of the excess water. Shirtless, he was already wearing a pair of faded flannel pyjama pants as he made his way across the plush carpet. An elated smile was on his face, his cerulean blue eyes sparkling with joy as he let out a soft chuckle. "I'm definitely going to be feeling the after-effects of that match tomorrow," he said, flinging the towel over his shoulder, "you were wonderful out there tonight... I'm so proud of you— of us, really."

Chauncy had been watching the news, but he switched off the television the moment Larry spoke, turning to face him completely. "Us. Always us, Lawrence," he murmured. "Speaking of, I have a gift for you. You'll need to check your emails, though." He lightly tossed Larry's phone onto the end of the bed, with a slightly-smug, anticipatory smile on his face.

A gift? That joy on his face was almost childlike glee as he picked up his phone, swiping his thumb across the screen before bringing up his email. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, his eyes flicking back and forth as he read through what he'd been sent before looking up. "We're going on holiday?"

The smile was matched, unseen, by Chauncy, who felt that he could happily watch that smile all day. If he knew it wouldn't water down over time, he'd spend almost every cent he had on gifts for his husband if it made him bounce like that. "We are going on holiday. It's getting warmer, a little sun might do us some good." He leaned back on the couch, one arm resting on the back of it, outstretched beside himself. "It might even up the colour on your neck." Teasing, of course.

"Either that or I'll blind everyone in the vicinity," he chuckled softly, locking the screen again before tossing his phone down. Grabbing a ratty old KoA tee, he pulled it on over his head. "A little downtime might be good. Great, even. A little sun and sand between our toes. Perhaps a midnight swim if my light reflective properties turn out to be too awful for the general population." He crossed the room, joining Chauncy on the couch. "I suppose it's a good thing I packed my swimsuit for this trip, isn't it?"

"Not necessarily, but sadly essential." He let his hand drop onto Larry's shoulder and leaned in to press a kiss to his hairline. "I'll accompany you to the beach, I'm sure the glare from all of me will more than make up for this little stripe." He let his nose nudge the nape of Larry's neck, chuckling before blowing cool air down his collar. "Got you."

"It still feels strange, not having it there after all these years keeping it long." He turned his head slightly, instinctively leaning towards Chauncy. "I keep halfway expecting folks to stop, point and laugh... I'm almost disappointed nobody has yet."

"I'm sure somebody will eventually, but to be frank, I don't care about their opinion. I care about mine, you care about yours, and we care about each others'. Case closed." He ruffled that shorter hair and laughed. "It sticks up rather like mine every morning, now. Put you in a much nicer suit and people may confuse us."

Larry laughed, resting his hand on Chauncy's thigh, "only if we're sitting down. Otherwise, it's quite apparent who's who. It's rather like the size differential between Frodo and Aragorn."

"Except your feet are a lot less strange-looking. It's more than a holiday, though. It's not your bathers you should be fretting about packing. You'll need to bring a suit."

"A suit?" That smile dimmed slightly, a little furrow of confusion to his brow, "why would I need a suit? Have you planned some fancy dinner outing as well?"

"Well, a short formal event. A ceremony, if you will." Chauncy's smug smile was back.

"Oh?" That frown smoothed out, the sparkle back in his eyes. That look on his partner's face was far too telling but he decided to play along, thoroughly enjoying their easy banter. "What sort of ceremony... hmmm? A boat christening, perhaps?"

Chauncy shook his head. "No, too naff. Think something with less pomp." He liked this game: this back and forth that always accompanied any kind of surprise. It was a rare and special thing, being able to surprise Lawrence, and his gifts were generally one of the worst offenders. This, though? Priceless.

"Well," he pretended to consider the possibilities, "let's see." He tapped his fingers gently against Chauncy's thigh as though he was playing the piano. "Well, you didn't say we needed cloaks, so I think we can rule out either of us being indoctrinated to a cult. Will there be cake?"

"Of course there will be cake. But no silly hats. Or cloaks. There might be flowers." He chuckled. "Unless you'd like to join a cult, in which case, I'd have to change our plans. I'm not sure there are too many beachside resort cults."

"Cake. Flowers. Well, you've narrowed it down a little for me, I suppose. It's not either of our birthdays. So..." he paused for a moment, "no silly hats? At all? But... I do have that rather dashing top hat. Alas, I forgot to pack it."

"Ah, yes, you could wear your top hat. That's not a silly hat. You could definitely wear your top hat. Formal event, after all." He grinned. "Is that a yes, then?"

"You know, I don't seem to recall any question being asked so I'm not entirely sure what I'm agreeing to." Larry studied him for a moment, trying to keep himself from grinning back. It was difficult, but he barely managed it, lips quivering on the edge of it. "Perhaps my rocks were scrambled a little tonight, thanks to Mr. Apollo and Miss Cade. Care to reiterate for this old fellow's benefit?"

"I'm asking, if you'd like to attend a formal event, with top hat optional, while we holiday in Barbados. You will need a suit. And a boutonniere, and you may need to pop your ring off, at least for a moment. Sound fun? If not, I can always schedule some dance lessons or a cocktail tasting."

"With your two left feet? No, I hardly think dancing is what we need." He couldn't contain the grin any longer and it burst forth with a chuckle, "of course, I'd love to. It sounds wonderful."

"Oh, good. Because I already booked it." Chauncy laughed aloud, and reached out, lacing their fingers together. "Arbitrary decision-making and all."

"A lovely surprise isn't really the sort of thing that requires input," Larry replied, giving his hand a squeeze. "And thank you. For... well... everything."

(the present: Christ Church)

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

His hands were like ice despite the warm air that surrounded them. The sun erupted over the water in a wash of dazzling Technicolor hues: oranges, reds and yellows, lighting the few clouds on fire. It was as though some higher power was creating the perfect backdrop just for them— not that either really noticed. Larry's eyes were firmly fixed on Chauncy, taking in every aspect of this perfect moment that meant so very much after all that had happened over the last year. Tears were already prickling in his sinuses and he knew he was going to break down before too much longer. Weddings always did him in, after all.

It had seemed like just the right timing: after metaphorically tripping over if not completely knocking down and falling along with the hurdles life had been throwing at the pair of them for an astronomical amount of time, now, Chauncy had felt that a renewal of vows really rather matched the renewal of their relationship, and the increasing sense of security he had within it. It was a statement, from somebody who would be the first to admit that he was abysmally bad at making statements just with words. Don't cry, he mouthed at Lawrence, and dropped him a quick wink before turning his attention to the celebrant, to hide any errant eye prickles of his own.

He made a soft little exhale of laughter followed by a barely perceptible nod. Sure, he'd give it the old college try, but his emotions were running high today. Tugging at the front of his vest, he turned towards their unofficial official with a watery smile, captivated for a moment by the spectacular sunrise beyond. "Oh my," the words came out in a soft whisper as the joy in his heart threatened to overwhelm him completely.

The celebrant smiled in return at them both before she began to speak, "Lawrence and Chauncy, when you first joined in marriage nearly four years ago, you had no idea what life would bring you. You promised to love, honour and cherish one another through it all. And while life has brought you many blessings and challenges throughout those years, here you are today, a testament to the fulfillment of those very same vows. We stand here together today, ready to take the next step in that journey, renewing a commitment to each other that will surely stand the test of time. Now, I understand you've each prepared your own vows of reaffirmation?"

Chauncy hadn't exactly written his own vows, but prepare? Well, it worked. He nodded, and glanced towards Lawrence, giving him a warm smile and blushing, just a little. Gowan nodded as well, clasping his hands together so tightly that his knuckles were turning white with the effort.

"Wonderful. Then I'd like you both to turn and face each other. Take your partner's hands and Chauncy, go ahead."

Chauncy's hands felt warmer in Lawrence's cooler ones, and he felt a sudden, almost-nervous shiver down his body, as though this were as important as it was the first time. And maybe it was, when you thought about it. He took a deep breath, secure at least that if he forgot the words he'd so carefully memorised, they were neatly folded in his pocket. A poem, by Wendell Berry— always better if the words were not his own, of course, but just as meaningful.

"Sometimes our life reminds me
of a forest in which there is a graceful clearing
and in that opening a house,
an orchard and garden,
comfortable shades, and flowers
red and yellow in the sun, a pattern
made in the light for the light to return to.
The forest is mostly dark, its ways
to be made anew day after day, the dark
richer than the light and more blessed,
provided we stay brave
enough to keep on going in.

How many times have I come to you out of my head
with joy, if ever a man was,
for to approach you I have given up the light
and all directions. I come to you
lost, wholly trusting as a man who goes
into the forest unarmed. It is as though I descend
slowly earthward out of the air. I rest in peace
in you, when I arrive at last.

Our bond is no little economy based on the exchange
of my love and work for yours, so much for so much
of an expendable fund. We don't know what its limits are—
that puts us in the dark. We are more together
than we know, how else could we keep on discovering
we are more together than we thought?
You are the known way leading always to the unknown,
and you are the known place to which the unknown is always
leading me back. More blessed in you than I know,
I possess nothing worthy to give you, nothing
not belittled by my saying that I possess it.
Even an hour of love is a moral predicament, a blessing
a man may be hard up to be worthy of. He can only
accept it, as a plant accepts from all the bounty of the light
enough to live, and then accepts the dark,
passing unencumbered back to the earth, as I
have fallen time and again from the great strength
of my desire, helpless, into your arms."

To his credit, Larry actually made it to the last stanza before the first tears fell down his cheeks and he blinked them away, clearing his throat softly even though he stammered on starting. "F-four years ago, I promised to love and honour you, I promised to cherish every moment with you and to walk by your side through sickness and in health, through riches and poverty... I failed miserably at one of those, and I've regretted it every day since that first misstep. Today, I'm not going to promise those things. Instead I'm going to ask you to stay with me as my husband... as my best friend and my partner in all this. I can't promise you'll always have that perfect rose garden or that every day will be easy, but I can promise I will never forsake you. I can promise you loyalty and honesty."

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady and through the tears, his eyes were the same colour as the sky. "Today, we can look into that sunrise and see a new day dawning, a new future where we can grow together. Chauncy, I'll be yours in plenty and in want, in sickness and in health, in failure and triumph until my very last breath. Without you, I'm nothing. You've changed me in ways I never imagined possible. You've opened my eyes and my heart. You found me in the dark and you led me back to the light." His voice faltered but he pressed on, the words coming from the heart, "together, from this moment on, we will dream, we will stand united the way we always have— as equals, as partners and as soulmates. You are the answer to all my questions. You complete me and together we can do anything. I'm yours. Eternally."

Chauncy's answer was in the redness of his eyes, and the slight wobble in his smile, but most of all, in the slow tightening of his hands in Lawrence's.

"Lawrence and Chauncy," the celebrant said softly, "on your wedding day many years ago you exchanged rings as a symbol of the never-ending circle of love and strength that connects you! May you always wear your rings as a reminder of your vows to one another, and your commitment to continue to live in unity, love and happiness. To remind you of this commitment, you will now renew your vows with the exchange of your rings. Chauncy, please place the ring on Lawrence's hand and say the words, 'with this ring, I renew my commitment to you'."

He was completely not going to cry. Not in the slightest. Stiff upper lip and so on. While he battled to hold onto his composure, seemingly of their own free will, he picked up the ring and slid it back into its rightful place, murmuring the words with a strain in his throat. "With this ring, I renew my commitment to you."

"And Lawrence, please place Chauncy's ring on his finger and say the words, 'with this ring, I renew my commitment to you'."

He pulled out Chauncy's ring from the pocket of his suit jacket, terrified he was going to fumble and lose it in the sand but he managed to get it back in place. "With this ring, I renew my commitment to you." He held on to Chauncy's hand a moment longer, as though he needed that contact to keep from completely falling apart.

Chauncy held his hand for a moment, and in an uncharacteristic show of affection, pulled Lawrence in for a hug, murmuring close to his ear, "I love you. Good show."

The celebrant beamed at them both, "gentlemen, I want you to remember that marriage is a commitment to care for one another in mutually-fulfilling ways. It is not an act but rather a life-long relationship that's always evolving. It enriches every part of life. Happiness is fuller, memories are fresher, commitment is stronger, and even anger is felt more strongly. However, it passes away more quickly. Marriage understands and forgives mistakes. It encourages and nurtures new life, new experiences, and new ways of expressing love. When two people pledge their love and care for each other in this way, they create a spirit unique unto themselves which binds them closer than any words, whether written or spoken. Marriage is the promise made in the hearts of two people who love each other. The potential of marriage takes a lifetime to fulfill, but the journey is truly worth it." She reached out, resting her hands on their shoulders. "Today you have renewed the vows you made to each other on your wedding day. You have symbolized this renewal by the joining of hands, the taking of vows, and the exchanging of rings so it is with great pleasure that I conclude the ceremony of renewing your vows of marriage. Go ahead and celebrate this renewal of vows with a sign of affection......you may now kiss!"

It wasn't hard to smile back at her, and comforted by her demeanor, it was even easier for Chauncy to take that rare next step, and comforted by the warmth of the rising sun on one side of his face, and the slowly-growing warmth of his husband's hands, Chauncy pressed his lips to Larry's, feeling for the moment that nothing could possibly go wrong. They were a team, in this and in everything else.