Epilogue
Months of hard work and weeks of nearly sleepless nights had worn Ford down, but he had managed to keep his chin up and his attitude positive throughout the sometimes vicious Senate race. Unfortunately, the election results were trickling in at a snail’s pace, so while campaign volunteers and VIP donors celebrated in a ballroom, Ford, Trevor, and all four of their parents were holed up in a suite upstairs at the Frontenac Hilton hotel. Even Ford’s good nature couldn’t survive three solid hours of blaming, bickering, and verbal sparring.
“Turn it off.” Ford’s shoulders were stiff and his jaw ticked as he marched toward the television.
Caught up in yet another argument about whether the Mogas had been right to prioritize the rural parts of the state over the urban and whether the Hollingsworths had been right to focus on fiscal issues rather than social ones, their parents didn’t hear Ford’s demand let alone notice his frustration.
“I can’t keep listening to this inane commentary.” He reached the television and bent forward. “Where’s the off button?”
The news was a meaningless buzz in the background. Trevor knew what Ford actually didn’t want to hear was their parents arguing. But he had manners, and self-preservation skills, so he couldn’t say that out loud.
Closing down his laptop, Trevor got up from the desk at the edge of the room and said, “Ford.”
“There has to be a power button somewhere.” Ford skimmed his hands around the perimeter of the plasma screen.
“Ford, honey.” Trevor hustled over to him.
“How can they make a TV without an on off switch?” he muttered. “There has to be a way to make it stop.”
“Ford?” Trevor curled his palms over Ford’s shoulders and rubbed. “Take a step back and breathe.”
“I need to get the remote,” Ford said, trying to wriggle out of Trevor’s grasp.
“Are you looking for the remote?” asked Trevor’s father. He picked it up off the coffee table and smirked at Ford’s parents. “See? I told you CNN wouldn’t have good coverage. I’ll switch it to MSNBC.”
“Absolutely not.” Bradford shook his head. “If you’re not happy with this station, we can watch FOX News.”
Trevor’s mother scoffed. “That’s right wing propaganda, not news.”
Ford squeezed his hands into fists and glared at their parents.
“I’m going to take Ford into the other room for a few minutes,” Trevor said as he began steering Ford toward the adjoining hotel room.
“The results are going to pop up any minute,” Trevor’s mother said.
“You don’t want to miss this,” added Ford’s mother.
“We’ll be right back.”
“Where are we going?” Ford blinked at Trevor, looking equal parts exhausted and confused.
“I have a present for you.”
“A present?”
“Yes. It’s in my bag, which is in here.” He opened the connecting door, nudged Ford past the threshold, and followed him in. The door clicked shut behind them, blocking out most of the noise from the other room.
Almost immediately, Ford unclenched his hands and relaxed his shoulders. “They’re making me crazy.”
“I know.” Trevor curled his arms around Ford from behind and kissed his nape.
“I thought they’d get tired of one-upping each other, but they’re getting worse, not better.”
“Mmm hmm.” Trevor nuzzled Ford’s neck and ran his palms down his chest. “But it’s almost over.”
“Over? We’re just getting started. My dad’s already saying key members of the Republican Party are impressed with how I ran this campaign and want me back in the fold, and your mom’s not quiet about wanting me to align with the Democrats and run on their ticket next time. If I win tonight, they’ll spend the next four years fighting about how I should vote on the floor, who I should form alliances with, and—”
“Once you win, you can decide all those things for yourself.”
“That won’t be easy.”
“Nothing ever is. But I believe in you.”
Ford leaned back against Trevor and closed his eyes. Trevor continued kissing and touching his husband until the lines smoothed from his forehead, his jaw relaxed, and his tension dissipated.
“Ready for your present?”
Hazel eyes blinked open. “You really got me a present? I thought that was an excuse to get us out of there.”
“It was. But, yes, I got you a present.” He kissed Ford’s cheek, made sure he was steady on his feet, and then walked over to his bag.
“Trev, you didn’t have to get me anything. Or, I should say, you’ve already given me everything.”
“Everything except this.” Trevor picked up a small plastic bag and brought it over to Ford. “I didn’t have time to get it wrapped.”
“What is that?” Ford squinted at the white plastic with the FAO Schwartz label. “Did you get me a toy?” He opened the bag, looked inside, and then smiled as he pulled out a Rubik’s Cube. His voice soft, he said, “I remember the night we talked about this. It feels like a million years ago.” He turned the sides of the puzzle. “You promised to teach me how to solve it.”
“That’s right.” Trevor tilted his head toward the Cube. “It’ll give us something to do when you need a distraction.”
Smiling shyly, Ford looked at him from underneath his lashes. “You never have any trouble distracting me.”
Trevor stepped closer. “This’ll work for when I need to distract you with our clothes on.”
“Thank you.” Ford stretched his chin forward, asking for a kiss. “I love you.”
“You’re welcome.” Trevor leaned in and brushed their lips together.
He intended to keep it short and chaste, but Ford clutched his shirt, whimpered in the back of his throat, and lapped at his mouth. Ford’s need fueling his own, Trevor wrapped his arms around Ford’s hips, grabbed his ass, and tugged him close. They pressed their mouths together again, parted their lips, and fell into another breath-stealing kiss, just as a commotion erupted in the other room.
“Ford!”
“Trevor!”
Footsteps sounded and then the door swung open and all four of their parents tumbled inside.
“What?” Still holding each other, they turned toward the door. “What happened?”
“You won the race,” Trevor’s mother said.
“They just announced eighty percent of the districts reporting,” said Bradford. “All the stations have called it.”
“You’re ahead by ten percent, Ford,” Trevor’s father added. “It’s practically a landslide.”
“I won?” Ford said softly, sounding cautious but hopeful.
“You won.” Bradford stepped forward, pride etched in every line of his face.
“You did it.” Theresa beamed. “My son the senator.”
Ford blinked and swallowed hard. “We did it together.” He leaned on Trevor and looked around at the people in the room, his earlier frustration replaced by fondness. “It was a family effort.”
The End