Throughout the past half-hour, Maxwell has nervously shaken his left leg three billion times, he’d trimmed his nail beds practically down to the skin, and he’d began cracking the knuckles on his right hand. Having spent a couple months in therapy, he’d grown accustomed to the overall process and while he felt comfortable telling Samantha literally anything and everything—it seemed the environment of a therapist’s office is was made him most uncomfortable each time. Max knew that his rapport with her had grown tremendously in the four months he’d been coming to see her, just about once each week. But the feelings he got each time in her office full of eclectic décor, seemed to leave a lot more to be desired. Samantha twisted her neck, allowing an audible crack to emanate across the room.
“You’re doing so well, Max,” she said, tipping her stainless-steel Yeti mug to her mouth. “I’m excited to hear about the wedding and the honeymoon,” she added.
Max let out an excited sigh. “Hmmphhh,” he began. “So the minute I leave here, I have to go pickup my tux, rush to the caterer’s, pick up my mother from the airport, oh and the kids get out of school in literally two hours.”
Samantha returned her mug to the table beside her. “I remember the pre-wedding blitz. It’s like there’s not enough hours in the day.”
“But it’s possible, and I’m not complaining one bit,” Max shrugged, scratching the back of his head. “I can’t necessarily say the man stole my heart. In the whole scheme of things, that’s quite the skewed schematic of our particular relationship,” he said with a wink.
She nodded in agreement. “Right, I can understand that,” she offered. “But, it’s also not like this sort of thing happens every day.”
Max looked into his Apple Watch. Shocked that while his paid hour with Samantha hadn’t been completely up, the day wasn’t getting any younger with the laundry list of things he needed to get finished. Not to mention finding time to eat with any hope of sending the kids off to bed by a reasonable time.
***
“Come on, sweetheart,” Max called up the stairwell to Lily, who was giving each of her stuffed animals a farewell for the two weeks she’d be away from them.
Maxwell’s mom looked into her wristwatch. “What’s taking her so long?”
“She has a deep attachment with all her stuffed animals,” he replied. “She has a routine with them, and she follows it. Every day. She hasn’t been separated from them for very long. Not like this.”
“How sweet,” she smiled.
“I do, however, wish she’d hurry up a bit,” Max asserted, growing a bit impatient.
Luckily, he’d packed her suitcases already and had them all stowed away in his mom’s rental car. “You sure you have everything?”
“Oh yeah, numbers. Lists. Routines. I got this,” she acknowledged. “After tomorrow, you’re a married man again,” Marilyn added, looking into her son’s anxious eyes.
“Mom, thank you for everything. As weird as this sounds, I’m going to miss Lil so much more this time than any other time. It’s the first time in almost a year since I’ll have been more than five or six days away from her at a time,” he clenched his teeth. “Two weeks feels like forever at this point.”
“No, it’s okay,” she assured him. “You and Durango will have a lovely two weeks together all by yourselves. You don’t get a honeymoon every day, now, do ya?”
Max twisted his head around to notice Durango step around the corner of the hallway from the downstairs guest bathroom. He’d tried his tuxedo on for the first time, after picking it up from the tailor earlier that day. Seeing his new husband-to-be, at least he would be within another twenty-four hours, sent an immediate rush of happiness and testosterone to the already excited cock within his black Armani pants.
“Babe,” Max gasped. “It looks so good on you,” he said, trying to shut his wide-open mouth. But he couldn’t.
The fact was, Durango looked damn good in a tuxedo and he didn’t wear them very often. It just didn’t seem like his preferred style.
Durango smiled brightly, doing a little swish dance on his way toward Maxwell.
“Marilyn,” Durango grabbed her hand, offering a gentle kiss on top. “Always a pleasure.”
She blushed. “Why, Mr. Walters,” she batted her eyelashes. “Are you sure you’re marrying my son?”
“Charming, Mom,” Max cut in, taking Durango by the arm. “Get your own, he’s mine,” he joked.
Marilyn smiled. “Oh I know, I don’t get to tease you very often anymore. I see you twice a year if I’m lucky.”
“Babe, you look ravishing,” Max assured his man, leaning in for peck on the cheek. He placed his hand just below Durango’s lapel. “Now, go change. This is just the rehearsal dinner after all.”
Durango clicked his tongue. “Right, I guess I’m a little rusty on how this all works,” he joked, twirling his right hand while rolling his eyes. “I’ve never been married before,” he snickered, stepping back toward the bathroom he’d just came from.
Max looked at his phone to check his text messages. Brogan’s parents arrived in the morning, as he invited them to stand-in for Durango’s parents, provided that Durango’s parents were no longer alive to see their son marry the gender he was supposed to all along. To be frank, this made Maxwell very happy. To be realistic, it was quite fitting as hell. Given that Durango practically is a piece of their son. And it brought nothing but pure joy to his heart knowing that Josiah and Yael had gotten very close with him ever since he took the initiative to meet with them in person and help bring them closer with their granddaughter. It also made things a bit easier when Durango eagerly accompanied Max to their local Reform Jewish synagogue. Since January, the four of them have been active members of its congregation as Maxwell explored the culture his former husband had been born into, only on a bit more orthodox level.
“Brogan’s parents are on the way to our shul now,” he advised, clicking his phone off and slipping it back into his pants pocket.
“Oh honey,” Marilyn placed both her hands-on Max’s cheeks, in true motherly form. “It makes me so happy to see you happy, and I will always love you. Your father would be so proud of how well you’ve done.”
Maxwell began to feel a tad like some teenage boy preparing for prom. The types of sentimental touchy feely that she’d show the day of the dance as he tacked along with a crowd of his best guy pals—all whom eventually came out of the closet at various times. But, this time, his second marriage. It felt a bit different in some ways, from his wedding with Brogan. Sure, his father was not going to be present this time, but there by spirit.
Within the few moments after Durango returned to the foyer, Lily began her trail down the steps, grasped to the first teddy bear Brogan gave to her on her first Valentine’s Day.
“Daddy,” she said, holding out her arms as Maxwell swept her off the bottom steps. “I love you.”
“I love you too, munchkin.” Max returned the sentiment, attacking her with kisses. “After tomorrow, you’re gonna be a good girl for grandma, right?”
“You bet,” Marilyn replied on Lily’s behalf, reaching out her arm to pat her granddaughter’s head. “All my friends are impatiently waiting to spoil her the whole time she’s visiting. She may not want to ever come back.”
Max returned the blonde headed gem back on her feet. “She’s right, you know,” Lily agreed, shrugging her shoulders. “If I don’t, it’s okay,” she added, holding out both palms faced up at her sides. “I’ll send for my things.”
“All right, Mrs. Sassafras,” Max chuckled. “Let’s all get out of here and go get some grub.”
Durango called over his shoulder into the living room where Gage was occupied on the couch with his Gameboy. “Come on, buddy. Time to go.”
***
As the hours progressed into the late evening on the third day in May, Durango followed his man into the new abode which was practically already his as well. They kicked off their shoes in the foyer as Max took his hand, running up the steps. They weren’t even married quite yet, and the excitement already got the best of him. He hurried up the steps, clutching Max’s hand with one and holding to the banister with his other. The two men arrived at the top of the stairs in no time at all, whereupon, Durango scooped Max into his arms and carried his lover into the master bedroom, setting him back down once they reached the entryway of the bedroom into the spacious bathroom. He ran the back of his hand up the length of Max’ s torso and once his fingers reached the younger man’s chin, he let out a warm grunt.
In the hush of their quiet small sized McMansion and the gentle illumination from the dim bedside lamps, Durango couldn’t resist his urges any longer that day. With both hands just below the collar, he tugged his grasp at the first button hole with such veracity, it tore apart with seemingly little effort. He tossed it aside, letting it casually fall to the hardwood floor as he removed the young man’s black wayfarers and gently hurled them behind him, listening to the rustle of the bedspread as they crashed into the top cushion.
“You wait here, mister,” Durango muttered, stepping into the bathroom, switching on the lights above the walk-in shower.
“Mmmm,” Max whispered. “Yes, sir.”
Durango swung open the wide shower door and started the water to start getting warm. He stepped back out to the doorway where he found Maxwell had already taken the liberty of stepping out of his black pants. Durango leaned into his younger lover’s face with his head tilted, intent on planting his tongue directly between his inviting lips, while he felt Max’s wrists grasp hold to the hem of his black shirt. Maxwell slid the shirt completely off just in time for Durango to nudge his man into the bathroom, twisting around and pressing Max’s spine against the wall of the bathroom. Their heads locked for several minutes exchanging in the unrestrained passion which was about to ensure, as clouds of hot steam quickly filled the bathroom.
Still engaged in the tender swapping of tongues, Durango felt Maxwell’s hands reach for the button and zipper of his dark-wash jeans, allowing them to fall down around his ankles. Durango’s index fingers traveled down to Max’s waist, so he could loosen the man’s boxers, followed quickly by his own underwear dropping to the ground in succession. His hands curled back around Max’s completely naked body while he bent his knees, grabbing at the base of his man’s ass cheeks and lifted him up. Max’s arms wrapped around Durango’s strong neck while being carried into the walk-in shower. Once inside the shower, he propped Max back down to both feet while reaching for the back of his head, meanwhile Max’s hands traveled down Durango’s spine. Under the sufficient glow inside their shower, both lovers returned to the warm brushing of their lips together, while the quiet hiss of trickling water rained down their entire bodies.
Durango rested his forehead against Max’s and smiled. “You’d better not run out on me this time.”
Maxwell shook his head slightly. “Not a chance,” he assured. “You’re stuck with me Durango Adam Walters,” he murmured, rubbing Durango’s naked backside. “Besides, we’ve fucked probably twelve times just since New Year’s Eve.”
“We have indeed,” Durango agreed.
He reached for the black bar of activated charcoal soap from another one of his Canadian friend’s company, Olive Leaf Soap Co., swiping it briskly against Maxwell’s spine.
“And I didn’t go anywhere then, have I?”
Durango continued to lather the suds around to his man’s front side. “Nope,” he whispered, reaching for Max’s left hand and placing it flat against his chest, allowing the thrash of his strong heart beat to thump against his man’s gentle palm. “Not at all, love,” he reiterated with confidence. “I love you, with all this heart.”