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Thomas felt silly – stupid even. His furniture was pushed into the corners of the living room. His poor velvet couch was shoved seat-first into the wall. Christmas lights from the previous year hung from the ceiling and clung to the walls. They twinkling awkwardly in their rainbow of colors. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find the white ones. However the wine he was cleaning from his carpet was white, and wasn’t that a little blessing. As he scrubbed, the frilled portion of his checkered apron constantly caught onto his knee, choking him. His red pots and pans laid scorched in the sink, his fire alarm still going off overhead. What was supposed to be a paradise, was slowly becoming a mess.
“Ok, ok,” Thomas yelled to the beeping fire alarm “I’m coming!” The man stood to his full height, reaching the alarm without problem. He twisted and pulled it from the wall, yanking it open to pull the battery out. “God,” he huffed, “I know that I burned the goat. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”
He sighed once he was done, his shoulder dipping with both exhaustion and defeat. He did not think this through. He leaned on the wall that separated the disaster in the kitchen from the disaster in the living room. He sighed again once he saw the flour that dusted along the kitchen floor, sprinklings of it falling onto the living room carpet. He’s going to have to get the carpet steamed altogether at this rate. He dug his hands in his hair at the thought… only to tangle wet flour into his glorious mane.
Thomas snatched his hands back once he remembered the mess he made of them. Rushing to the bathroom, he panickily looked into the mirror. Just as the kitchen, his hair was covered in flour and dough. A low growl began to bubble from his chest, before it turned into a broken scream.
“I just wanted to do something nice,” Thomas whined to the mirror. His reflection looked truly miserable. His hair and beard were dotted in white. His apron was loose and crooked on his frame, spots of cleaner and wine destroying its white and red checkering. His lip was pouted and his eyes a little watery. “I just wanted to do something nice,” he whispered once more, before putting his head on the sink. “Why am I such a screw up,” he mumbled into the porcelain.
“Thomas?!”
The shout of his name force Thomas to shoot up, his panicked eyes watching him through the mirror. “Alexander,” he whispered to his freaked-out reflection, “Shit, he’s not supposed to be here yet.” In a frenzy he frantically ruffled his hands along his kinks, a vain habit he picked up when he and Alex first started dating. It was his way of “freshening up”, however the action did the opposite. He forgot about the damn flour on his hands. “Shit! Shit! Shit,” he cursed as more flour lodged itself between his curls.
“Tammy,” Alexander yelled once more, “I came home early today.” I fucking know, Thomas thought as he finally washed his hands. He then dunked his entire head into the sink. Soaking his hair, he tried to rinse the flour out, only for it to turn into a bigger doughy mess. “I know that I’ve been missing our date nights,” Alexander continued, “I’ve been so busy with the new fiscal ye- What the hell happened to the living room?!” Thomas flinched, embarrassment warming his neck, cheeks and ears. Me, Thomas thought, I’m what happened to the living room.
Thomas rubbed his hands more ferociously in this locks, the flour finally become slippery enough to rinse away. Finally, he could get his head out of the sink. His neck was starting to kill him, his body contorted in a ridiculous arch just to fit. However, he was too eager, as his wet hair and frantic washing wet the floor. With his recently polished dress shoes, Thomas didn’t have a chance. He slipped and fell, head banging painfully into the wall behind him. “Owww,” Thomas groaned.
“Thomas!” Alexander rushed into the bathroom, scared half-to-death from the commotion. “Are you ok? Are we being rob-,” he began to ask, but the question turned into a bubble of giggles once he reached the door, “What the hell, Jefferson? What happened to you?”
Thomas sat in silence for a while, allowing his fiancé to laugh at him. At least Alex was happy, right? “I fell down,” he finally said, weakly and defeated.
“I can see that,” Alex said though his smile. He then squatted to Thomas’ level, his smile becoming a little empathic as he took in his soaking wet partner. “Are you ok, dear,” he asked seriously, “You got me a little worried here. What’s today?”
“Tuesday,” Thomas answered, “I don’t have a concussion. I’m just really, really done.”
“So is our wall,” Alex said as he pointed to the wall Thomas was now resting against. Thomas looked behind him to see what Alex meant, only to see the plaster caved in. “You hit it pretty hard, honestly,” Alex pointed out, “What were you even doing? And what happened to the house?”
“I-,” Thomas began. His throat then tightened. His eyes moistened. He was on the verge of crying. He was going to cry like a child over a failed date attempt. “I just wanted to make you dinner,” he said over the lump in this throat, “You seemed like you were getting a little homesick lately, and I wanted to make you some Roti with some Goat Waterstew. To make you feel better.” He paused to swallow, hoping to calm himself down, but tears slowly began to fall. “You’ve been working hard, so I know we couldn’t go out. I was going to make a picnic in the living room, with the stupid lights and glasses of wine.”
“Oh, Tammy,” Alex sighed, “That’s so sweet.”
“It would’ve been,” Thomas disrupted, “If I wasn’t such a ditz! I ended up burning the goat and making the dough too thick. Then the wine bottle spilled while I was trying to set the sheet up. It just turned into a mess.” Thomas then put his face in his hands, little sobs coming from his throat. “And now I’m crying over a stupid picnic date,” he said between his sobs, “Why am I so fucked?”
Thomas felt when Alexander sat closer, the man’s shoulder and thighs settling in next to his. “I think this is about a little more than some burnt goat and spilled wine,” Alex commented. His now sodden dress pants rubbed against Thomas’ as Alex moved to pull the taller to his chest. “You’ve been working pretty hard too, dear,” he commented, “The negotiations that fell through yesterday, after you worked so hard on them this entire month.”
Thomas grimaced at the mentioning of another one of his failures, though he couldn’t deny Alexander’s reasoning. He wanted to be useful - efficient - to someone. After losing that sale, he felt like shit. He thought that this night would have been a balm for both of them. It became another headache for them both, instead. “I guess you’re right,” Thomas said to Alex’s chest, “I just wanted to do something right for a change.”
“Tammy,” Alex said softly, “You’re marrying me. That’s something you’re doing right.” The cocky statement got a snort from Thomas. “You paid enough attention to me to notice that I was homesick,” Alex added seriously, “Because of my history with the place, most people think that I hate Nevis, and that’s not true. I miss my home sometimes.” The man then perked up, causing Thomas to look up at him questioningly. “You know what you do perfectly,” Alex asked. When Thomas shrugged, the man continued. “Love me,” he answered, “And I’m not being cheesy. I'm serious. You do that perfectly. You pick up on the things that I don’t have the words for. I don’t have to tell you where it hurts, you just know. You remember my important days. You support me, even when I overwork myself.” He then smiled down at the man that he held in his arms, his heart soft and vulnerable. “You do the little things, like plan the perfect picnic date for both of us to enjoy.”
“It would’ve been perfect, wouldn’t it,” Thomas smiled in return. His heart was soothed. Though his effort was a disaster, it was still appreciated. That was all Thomas really wanted, to feel appreciated and needed. Somehow, through all of this, Alex found a way to make him feel that way. He felt like himself again. “I can cook, you know,” he boasted, “Quite amazingly.”
Alex took a deep sigh, playfully annoyed. “I usually try not to boost your already enormous ego,” he began, “But you’re right. You usually are an amazing cook. Goat is nothing for you. What the hell happened?”
“Stopped for a wine break,” Thomas explained. Alex shoved him off. “Hey,” Thomas called at Alex as the other left him on the bathroom floor, “It was Pinot. You know I love a good bottle of Pinot.”
“I’m ordering Thai,” Alex deadpanned, “And you’re making this for me again, properly, next week.” The man already had the phone in his hand, ordering their usual from their favorite Thai spot. “I can’t believe you almost burned our apartment down for some damn wine.”
Thomas simply spread his arms out, his apron now removed to reveal a spotless, but soaking wet white button up. “To be fair,” he shrugged, “I think I was properly punished for it.”
Alex chuckled, voice dark despite his amusement. “God,” he smiled, “You’re still sexy.” Thomas eyes widened, face warming at the unexpected complement. “C’mere,” Alex ordered with the crook of his fingers, “No need to waste all this free space in the living room. Nor should we waste you in a soaked white shirt.”
“But the food,” Thomas protested, “And the mess.” The words fell from Thomas’ mouth, but he still walked towards Alex, unbuttoning his shirt along the way.
“We got an hour,” the other responded, “More than enough time for round one.” Alex then grabbed Thomas by his hips, tickling him slightly until the man crumbled to the carpet he was just scrubbing earlier. “Now make love to me underneath these goofy, yet oddly romantic, Christmas lights.”
Thomas laughed, feeling silly, if not a little stupid. Yet, he also felt loved. Maybe this was paradise. “Gladly,” he whispered into his fiancé’s ear, “Gladly.”