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Standing off the side of the ice skating trail in Parc Jean-Drapeau, Denis shoves his hands in his coat pockets and takes a deep breath as he stares out at his city across the St. Lawrence. The evening is beginning to draw its curtain over the horizon, and his sigh conjures a lacey cloud before his face. He smiles, grateful for the winter’s gift of revealing his breath, reminding him to slow down and appreciate every moment life has to offer. Many months of the year spent faraway from this place, his home base, his heart, only serve to prove how proud he is of his beloved Quebec provenance.
“There you are,” Ryan’s voice slides up behind him until Denis feels his husband’s hand on the small of his back. Ryan grins, adjusts his wool beanie. “The queue for the restroom was really long, sorry about that.”
Denis smiles, shakes his head, loops his arm with Ryan’s as they step back onto the ice trail. “C’est beau, Boulanger, I was just having a moment, as you say.”
“Oh?” Ryan says, slowly skating side-by-side with him. “Enjoying the view of home?”
“Yes, and I’m so happy to share it with you, my love.”
Ryan blushes, though his cheeks are already pinkish from the cold. “I love this. Thank you for the idea to get away for a while. Things are really about to get rolling for me and this is such a nice occasion to breathe before the junket race.”
Denis nods, watches some kids awkwardly slide past them, giggling incessantly. “De rien. It is my pleasure. We all know I needed this as well. As much as I love editing, I needed to get out of that room, tsé.”
Still arm-in arm, they continue down the path at a leisurely pace, their breath trailing behind them like steam locomotives on a track. For them, returning to the ice is like riding a bike, and muscle memory of childhood snow-bound activities returns, helping them glide down the park’s narrow path with ease. After a few minutes, some flurries begin to filter down through the naked trees surrounding them. Just then, the colorful lights set up around the path turn on, and the blue-white snow turns all the colors of the rainbow.
“Wow, this is really something,” Ryan says almost breathlessly. He catches Denis’s smile, his round, gnomish cheeks flecked with flakes. “The kids would love this.”
“Oauis ouais, I thought about that… perhaps we can come back with the whole family for a day at the park before the end of the season.”
Ryan nods, slows for a second so he can lean in and kiss Denis’s cheek. Then he unhooks his arm and reaches to hold Denis’s gloved hand. “You’re such a great dad, you know. I know you worry about being away so much and you miss being with them, but you truly make up for it when you can.”
Denis looks at him sheepishly. “Even though I yell at them sometimes?”
“Oh no, your yelling is not like anyone else’s yelling and you know it,” Ryan insists, his heart twisting at the memory of their little spat a few months back. “You’re just more effective because you have a more commanding voice than me. I’m sorry I made you feel meaner than you are.”
Denis chuckles, his breath coming out in bigger, quicker jets of steam. “And you are not mean at all.”
“Well, we can leave that to Madam, then,” Ryan says with a laugh.
Denis’s eyes widen. “She’s only mean when she really means it.”
“And only about deserving things anyway.”
“C’est vrai.”
“The other day when she found out that Disney is only streaming the special edition versions of Star Wars, she ranted on and on about it, about how the CGI creatures and other effects George inserted were super distracting and made the whole enterprise look cheap. Man, she went on a tear. And she admits she’s not even a big Star Wars person in the first place.”
Denis shakes his head, grinning. “I cannot argue with her. She is not wrong about that.”
“No, absolutely she’s right. It’s just so funny. So mad. A mad little hobbit woman.”
“She is our mad little hobbit woman.”
“God bless her angry heart,” Ryan adds, turning around in front of Denis, skating backwards for a bit so he can slow him down and stop near the edge of the path. He holds Denis’s hands, rubbing them for warmth, and looks into his eyes. “Denis, I thank God or the Universe or the fates everyday that Madam was so open to us being together like this. It’s unusual, and a bit risky, but the family we’ve created… it’s so unique.”
Denis nods, slides a bit closer to reach out for his husband’s waist. “This is a special and beautiful challenge… but it’s definitely worth it. We are a strange team, non?”
“I’m never bored, that’s for sure,” Ryan says, winking as he touches Denis’s face, his skin changing shade as the path’s light shifts colors. “So tell me, please, if you know… is it a boy or girl?”
Denis shakes his head. “I asked that myself, tsé. She claims she does not know herself yet.”
“Really? How can that be?”
“She says this one will take a long time to be born. That’s what she says. And honestly, I don’t want to rush her. We have a lot going on, and I am just grateful she has allowed this in the first place.”
Ryan nods and wraps him up in his arms, rests his head on Denis’s shoulder. “I understand. I was half convinced she didn’t want anymore kids.”
“It wasn’t in her original plan, I don’t think. But… you know… she’s changed her mind for us before.” Pulling away a bit, Denis meets Ryan’s gaze, licks his lips. “She changed her heart for you.”
Ryan winces a little. “No, she changed it for you because you loved me—”
“Non, non, my love, I know she admits that it took time, but she truly wanted to love you deeply.” Denis rubs Ryan’s arm, grows more serious. “She made up her mind to try because she wanted you to be happy. She liked you too much not to try to fall in love with you.”
Ryan flushes in the newly fallen dark, suddenly cannot wait to get back indoors, in the hotel bedroom. “But you… you weren’t exactly on the make when you fell for me either.”
“What is ‘on the make’ s’il te plaît?”
“Searching for a boyfriend,” Ryan translates with a smile.
“It was not my intention, no,” Denis replies, shrugging. His smile returns. “But then… I could not help myself.”
“I couldn’t help myself either,” Ryan says, eyes twinkling with tears.
Denis tugs him closer, tilts his head as they kiss, their lips so hot and pliant despite the chill. Just as Denis feels heat returning to his ears, a trio of teenagers skates by, playfully whooping and whistling at them.
“Quel joli couple!”
“Prenez une chambre!”
Ryan covers half his face with one hand. “Oh no, they didn’t recognize us did they?”
Denis laughs. “They said ‘get a room.’”
“Oh, that’s perfect because I’ve been dying to get behind a closed door with you all day.”
************
The next morning, Ryan snoozes on his back, half awake, but fully aware of the warm presence of Denis sleeping beside him under the covers. The watery sunlight begins to seep around the edges of the floor-to-ceiling blackout curtains in the hotel room’s windows, but Ryan squeezes his eyes shut against any drop of outside illumination. He turns his head, studies the dark silhouette of his husband’s face on the pillow, watches as his chest rises and falls with the same rhythm of his own breathing.
His phone buzzes on the nightstand, and he wonders what time it is. He reaches out and grabs it, sees that it’s not an ungodly early hour, and reads the text.
Look at you, immortalized in plastic! :)
Ryan taps the link Madam has sent, smiles at the article with pictures of the Lego set made for his latest movie. He texts back: I’ve finally arrived! We’ll need to get one for the kids.
I’m already on it.
Ryan silently chuckles, and Denis rouses a little, turning on his side toward him.
“Morning, Octopus,” Ryan whispers as he lays a kiss on Denis’s brow.
“Bonjour, mon amour,” Denis mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “Who is texting you this early?”
“It’s past 8:00,” Ryan says, then he hands the phone over to Denis. “Check it out.”
Denis blinks at the bright screen, focuses, then grins. “Un petit astronaute! What an honor to be a Lego. Looks just like you.”
“Because it’s got a beard and big dumb smile?”
Denis chuckles, hands him the phone, then stretches his arms out to pull Ryan against him. “It’s a big beautiful smile, Boulanger.”
Ryan blushes, sets the phone aside. “I want them to make one of you someday,” he says, cuddling with Denis, nuzzling his neck. “He’ll have jeans and a white shirt and big orange headphones. The director uniform.”
“And only five people will want to buy one.”
“It’ll be all the more of a collector’s item, then,” Ryan adds, squeezing Denis’s bare shoulder. “But you’re the ultimate original.”
“Thank you, cher,” Denis says, kissing him sweetly. He runs his fingers through his husband’s hair at his temple and gazes at him a long, almost awkward moment.
Ryan flashes a grin. “What?”
“Tout. Tu es tout.”
Ryan blinks. “Tout… everything?”
“Usually people say ‘nothing’ when they are asked that question. But you are the opposite.”
“Wow, really?” Ryan says, feeling his heart flutter. He rubs Denis’s chest, feels his heart strongly thumping under his fingers. “Flattery does work on me.”
“Non, not flattery, Ry. La vérité. Just the truth.”
Ryan begins to trace figure-8 shapes on Denis’s collarbone. “Is Madam everything as well?”
“You are both a lot, which I deeply love.”
“I deeply love whenever I get you to say you deeply love anything,” Ryan says with a grin.
Denis frowns slightly. “What, it’s true, I’m not kidding—”
“I know it’s true,” Ryan says, placing a hand over Denis’s heart and kissing his cheek. “The day you quit deeply loving things is the day you die.”
Denis blushes. “What can I say? This is how it works.” His smile fades, his lips purse, and Ryan melts into his burning kiss, just like he did the night before.