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After all of these years, the one place Simon had never passed out at before had been a wedding, granted, he had never been to one. But that changed today. The air was hot, and he knew it was coming. He had had a nosebleed just that morning, but he was just being batty. He didn't want to disrupt the day.
Simon looked out at the yard. The grass was freshly cut in lines, some a darker green than others, but it gave off a fresh and clean look. Spread out were tables laid with fine silk covers that blew in the wind, wine glasses, and plates. Each table had a different bouquet of flowers as the middle piece. Between them, placing the tables either on the right or left, lay a white carpet leading to a canopy covered in flowers. People roamed around, wearing their best attire. Even Simon himself wore a tuxedo with black pants and a sleek, light red overcoat.
“A martini, sir?”
Simon paid no attention. He stared at the view in front of him.
“Sir?”
Simon blinked and quietly looked over. “Oh, yes, please.” He reached his hand out and grasped the glass from the man's tray. The man nodded and walked away, presumably to help another guest to a drink.
Simon had taken notice of how everyone seemed to be in their own group. They all knew each other, somehow, yet here stood Simon, just staring, watching everyone else. He sipped his martini and cringed at the taste. He never liked alcohol. He didn't know why he had grabbed it off the tray. Perhaps just so the man would leave him alone.
Pushing off from the stone stair railing, Simon turned around and made his way up the stairs and past a group of gossiping women. He placed his full martini on a ledge of the stone and headed inside the house. The wedding was being held in a baroque and Georgian house that had been passed down in the family line for centuries. Entering the home, his feet hit checkered flooring, and he could smell dust in the air. It was a comfort. The windows were large, and he could see those outside. He glanced around and decided to go further into the house. The flooring changed to dark, sleek wood. He seemed to be in a halfway room. He saw stairs or another path to what seemed like the living room.
“Simon.”
Simon jumped and looked towards the stairs. He took a hesitant step forward and took slow steps up the stairs.
“Simon.”
“Yes?” Simon asked, halfway up the winding stairs. Nobody responded. Simon swallowed and hurried up the stairs. Nobody was there. He looked around and took in the surroundings. Containing the same flooring as downstairs, the wood was partially covered by a long blue carpet that extended to the end of the hallway. There was a small end table with dying flowers sitting in the middle. Simon blinked. No, the flowers were fresh. Simon cursed at himself. He’s just being batty. Nobody had called his name. The flowers weren't moldy.
The man sighed and leaned against the wall beside the stairs. He needed to collect himself. He couldn't make himself a fool. Especially on-
“You are being absolutely insufferable right now!” A voice shouted angrily, muffled by walls, only heard because of the lack of insulation between them.
“Well, you aren't being realistic! This is my wedding! MY special day!”
“Is it not mine either? I've spent years saving for a wedding, god forbid I wanted a say in one thing!”
Simon stayed quiet, but he heard his name again. It was coming from the flowers. He stepped closer to the flowers and, once close enough, lowered his ear to the flowers. Before he knew what was happening, he hit the floor with a thud. The argument in the other room stopped.
—--
Simon stirred awake. He was lying on a red couch. He looked around the room. Light shone in through the windows, and he squinted. The walls of the room were lined with books, all centered around a fireplace that probably hadn't been used since that winter. Simon sat up and looked over. There was a man staring out of one of the windows, a hand on his hip while the other hand nursed a drink. Simon didn't need him to turn around to know who he was.
“How long had I been out?”
“Only a few minutes.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Why be? You always do this. You're always batty.” The man scoffed.
Simon looked away shamefully. “I tried to ignore it.”
“You can't ignore something like that.”
“I know.” Simon paused and slowly got up. His limbs hurt. Jack finally turned around.
“Do you want a drink?” He extended his half-empty glass of martini. Simon grabbed it from his grasp. He eyed Jack as he drank. Then, he handed it back and cleared his throat.
“What had you been arguing about?” Simon asked, sitting back down. Jack watches him before doing the same. A cushion separated them.
“Were you being nosy? Is that it?” Jack said accusingly.
“What? No, I just. I had sworn I heard my name.” It went quiet for a moment, and Simon could watch as Jack went back and forth with himself.
“I wanted you to be my best man. Aaron, who was to do it, became sick and won't be able to do it, and...” Jack looked away. “I should have asked you first before bringing it up to her. But now she is enraged.”
Ah, that's why he had partially heard his name.
“It should be your choice,” Simon said softly. Jack scoffed.
“I know! That's what I told her. Women can be infuriating, I don't even know why I'm marrying one, honestly.” Jack leaned back against the couch. Simon just watched him.
“Do you even like her?”
“What?”
“Jack, you always complain about her.”
“She’s fine, my father thinks we are a good match.”
“But do you like it, her?” Simon paused. “I mean, have you guys even….”
“No,” Jack said too roughly. “I- We are waiting until we get married.” Jack looked away. Simon only nodded. He didn't know what else to say, so he just watched Jack.
“I will be your best man, if you wish,” Simon said, finally. Jack looked over and sighed. He shrugged.
“I dont even know anymore.”
“Dont know what?”
“I dont know what to think.”
“Why’s that?”
Jack shrugged. “Can I be honest?”
“I'm not stopping you.”
“I can't imagine being a father- at least to her children. And the thought of- of” Jack paused and drew his voice to a whisper. “Being intimate with her is repulsive. It's felt like that with every woman I've been with. I think something is wrong with me.”
Simon frowned. “There's nothing wrong with you. You will find the right person, sometime.”
Jack sighed and looked over. “I hope you're right.”
“What will you do now?”
“I suppose I'll find her.” Jack bit his lip.
“What will you say?”
“That it’s over.” Jack stood and drank the rest of his martini, placing the glass on the small circular table beside the couch. “Will you be here when I'm done?”
“I'll stay as long as you need.” Both men knew Simon meant emotionally, too. He’d always be for Jack. Jack nodded and promptly left the room. It had become quiet again, and Simon sighed. He was thirsty. He closed his eyes and let out a breath.
Before he could relax any longer, he heard a blood-curdling scream. He jumped, then frowned. Obviously, Jack’s fiancée had heard the news. Simon heard footsteps back to the room, and the door opened. Simon's eyes went wide when he saw Jack. His left cheek was red.
“Did she hit you?” Simon tried not to laugh.
“Yes, yes, she did, after she screamed in my face. I suppose I deserve it, though.”
“I won't deny it,” Simon spoke, seeing Jack walk back over and sit on the couch, defeated.
“What now?” Simon asked. Jack shrugged in response, and Simon smiled.
“I suppose, once everyone leaves, you should stay, and we can stay here for the summer. Unless you're busy, then I’d totally under-”
“Sure, Jack,” Simon saw Jack smile.
“I feel like an asshole,” Jack said, covering his face.
“Oh, you probably will for a while.” Simon placed a hand on Jack's shoulder.
The room went quiet for a while, and Simon bit his lip.
“What are you thinking of?” Jack asked, curiously watching Simon.
‘Oh, nothing. I just.. Had a question, but I don't think it's much appropriate.” Simon looked up from where he daydreamed.
“It can't be worse than what's already happened today.”
Simon sighed. “Have you ever thought of men as an option?” The room stilled.
“What?”
“Well, i meant like have you-”
“No, I understood the question, Simon, but, god, that's-” Jack paused. He paused for a long time. “No, I hadn't.” Simon nodded, and Jack looked at him like he suddenly knew everything about the world.
“Have you…. Ever?” He asked Simon. Simon swallowed and nodded.
“I haven't told anyone, but I do fancy men more.” The room, for what seemed like the millionth time, became quiet. But it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward. It was a quiet that surrounded people as they took information in, as the way they understood themselves changed.
“How did you realize?”Jack asked quietly
“I had kissed a boy in our choir.” Simon looked away, embarrassed.
“What? Who!” Jack laughed, surprised.
“I cannot say! I told him I never would. Besides, he decided it wasn't for him, and we never did it again.”
“Was it Maurice?” Jack asked. Simon quieted and just stared at Jack. That's all the answer that Jack needed to know that he had guessed correctly. He had always known how to read Simon. Jacks smiled slipped from his face again, and he went quiet. “Simon?”
“Yes?”
“Could I..” Jack paused and looked away. He had felt completely embarrassed.
“Do you wish to kiss me to see if you are gay?” Simon asked clearly. He could read through Jack's embarrassment. “I won't tell anyone.” Jack looked at him and nodded slowly.
Simon felt his heart jump, but he didn't understand why. He was just helping Jack out.
Jack sat on the cushion that separated them and began to close the distance between him and Simon. Simon grabbed Jack's chin and placed a small peck on his lips before leaning away. Jack mirrored his action, but his face had begun to turn red.
“Well?” Simon asked, letting go of his chin.
But Jack didn't say anything. He just stared at Simon.
“Jack?”
Before he could say anything more, Jack rushed forward again and kissed Simon, placing a hand on Simon's cheek. Simon kissed him back.