Good morning! As promised, we have fiction to share from one of our generous and talented friends, Byron Beach. Those of you who belong to my Patreon will recognize Byron as the guy who posts all those interesting and insightful comments about the stories, as well as sharing snippets from his own work.
Griff stood, lost in a quiet
contemplation of wealth and waiting. Did those with deeper pockets truly spend
fewer moments in idle anticipation, or was this languid drag of time universal?
The hum of activity at Dane County Airport painted a picture of mundane comings
and goings, and amid it all, he tried to pinpoint Pierce's potential flight.
Though Pierce had hinted at touching down around 11:30, the board displayed no
New York arrivals fitting that bill.
He retrieved his phone, thumb
skimming their recent texts, looking for a flight reference. Yet he
consistently found himself sidetracked, captivated by the blend of playful and intimate
messages they'd exchanged. Like Pierce's light-hearted note on mastering the
art of blueberry pancakes in preparation for their shared Sunday mornings. He’d
chuckled at that text more times than he'd care to admit. And that snapshot of
a pale blue tie, patterned with sailboats and anchored with a gleaming oar tie
clip. That pic was now was his
screensaver, a soft reminder of their bond.
Leaving Long Island behind a
month prior, Griff had sought a respite, asking the Arlingtons, and Pierce, for
room to breathe and recalibrate. They had understood, giving him the space, he
yearned for. But soon, the weight of longing nudged Griff to send a single
heart emoji, only to receive in return an image of Pierce's favored cologne
bottle. That simple exchange bridged the miles between them. And now, after
weeks and myriad messages, they were on the cusp of a long-awaited weekend
together.
Griff glanced again at the
arrival board, Would Pierce even appreciate the simplicity of Janesville? What
would he make of Griff's circle of friends? Alvin, his cousin and a ghost from
the past, flashed through Griff's thoughts. Their paths, and outcomes had
diverged so starkly when it came to the Arlingtons. Shaking his head, Griff
tried to shove the dark thoughts aside. He was just about to dial Diana when
the familiar and intoxicating scent of Pierce's cologne enveloped him. Before
he even saw him, a warm breath brushed his neck.
"Hello, handsome
stranger."
The ambiance momentarily
shifted, and in the next second, Pierce was there, embodying the elegance of a
bygone era, as though they were characters from a 1930s black-and-white film
meeting at a train station. Griff leaned in, nestling his face in the curve of
Pierce's neck, the familiar embrace evoking a swell of emotions.
Their lips met in a gentle, longing
kiss. Drawing back, the playful twinkle in Pierce’s eyes was evident. “Such a
reception,” he quipped.
Griff smirked, “Didn't want
to risk you getting lost. Imagine where you might have ended up.”
Pierce shot him a teasing
look. “I had your bedroom in mind, to be honest.”
A light blush warmed Griff's
face. “Easy there. Luggage first, plans later.”
Swinging his modest bag with
a flourish, Pierce’s grin grew. “I always pack with intent.”
Navigating their way to the
car park, Griff felt a flicker of self-consciousness. Pierce had never been a
passenger in his vintage Karmann Ghia. Despite its meticulous engine rebuild,
it was, a bit dented and rough on the outside, a far cry from the sleek lines
of Pierce's Boxster. Yet, this car was Griff’s, an emblem of his identity, or
at least, the identity he once held dear.
“Ready to indulge in some
bona fide Wisconsin delicacies?” Griff queried, hoping to divert his own
attention.
Pierce's lips curled into a
teasing smile. “My appetite is insatiable today.”
Griff chuckled, yet he could
feel the weight of an impending conversation. He was purposefully evading the
topic of their accommodations. Much as he tried, Griff could not imagine
Pierce, with his polished leather bag and black silk boxers, in his studio
apartment, with its stunning view of the Janesville mall. Taking a steadying
breath, he shared, “I've reserved a room at the Edgewater in Madison. It's
central, and the view of Lake Mendota is breathtaking. Thought you’d like it.”
Pierce gave him a thoughtful
glance. Instead of delving deeper, he offered, “If you're there, it's bound to
be special.”
Once on the main
thoroughfare, the drive to Madison unfurled before Griff. A route he had
traveled innumerable times suddenly appeared fresher, every detail accentuated,
thanks to his new co-pilot.
Pierce’s penetrating gaze was
hard to miss. Meeting those amber eyes, Griff sensed an undercurrent of both
humor and inquiry. "Been keeping yourself engaged? How's the book shaping
up?" Pierce’s question, subtly touching on the Arlington mystery and
Griff's newfound heritage, hovered in the air.
Griff hesitated momentarily.
"I’ve been pulled into a different direction lately. I'm uncovering some
unsettling truths about the foster care system," he ventured, adeptly
sidestepping the topic that still felt raw. "There are allegations of fraud
and manipulation, especially in institutions that house numerous
children."
The seriousness in Pierce's
demeanor was unmistakable. "It's a disturbing and I've heard all too
often. Vulnerable children, compromised by the very guardians meant to shield
them. It's grievous how these stories get buried."
Griff's expression softened
into a playful smirk. "You do have a knack for defying my perceptions,
huh?" he teased. Beneath their light-hearted exchange, Griff felt a bond, a
shared empathy for the less fortunate.
“I thrive on defying your
expectations," Pierce said with a sly twinkle in his eyes, "and I
plan on keeping it that way for quite some time. But speaking of defying
expectations, this car of yours...”
"What's wrong with my
car?"
Pierce chuckled softly,
letting his fingers trail over the dashboard. "Absolutely nothing. I
rather admire it. From the outside, it might seem a bit, um, seasoned, but its
performance? Absolutely athletic. The interiors, efficient, direct, honest and devoid
of any unnecessary pretense, much like its owner."
Griff shot Pierce a wry look,
"I've always believed in maintaining what's important."
Pierce's response was a
contemplative hum, his fingers now coming to rest on Griff's thigh. "So,
how's work been since you got back?"
Griff's grip on the wheel
tightened momentarily. "For the most part," he responded feeling a
hint of tension in his voice "Things have been... different. People treat
me like I've become a character from a story, not the colleague they've known
for years."
"You had to expect some
change, right?" Pierce ventured.
"I get it, I do. But
it's the silence that gets to me most. Friends tiptoe around the Brian thing,
never addressing it outright, yet there's this underlying assumption that I
should suddenly play the magnanimous heir or always have a solution ready. And
then there’s Marleen in finance. We used to exchange laughs, had this easy camaraderie.
But these days, she pores over every detail, questions every expense, insisting
on repeated documentation. It's as though she’s suddenly skeptical of every
move I make. She even held up my paycheck, demanding I use my 'true' name on a
W9 – as if my identity has become this big question mark. It's
exhausting."
Pierce, leaning slightly
closer, seeming to choose his words with care. "Griff, your return has
rewritten the story for everyone. It's unsettling terrain for all involved. But
if you ever need any help, especially with paperwork, just-"
"I appreciate the
offer," Griff interrupted, softening his tone. "But I need to find my
way through this. On my own." Seeking a change of topic, he ventured,
"How about some food before we check in?"
A playful glint returned to
Pierce's eyes. "Let’s drop my bag at the room and then get something to
eat. If we get settled in that room, I suspect we’ll find other...
diversions."
As he pulled into the
circular entry of the Edgewater Hotel, Griff's chest tightened, and not just
from the splendor it represented. The hotel, grand as it was, embodied the
tug-of-war Griff felt inside.
The hotel was elegant and the
nicest in Madison. He had been here often, but always to interview some
official and always on an expense account. But today, accompanying Pierce, it
was as if he was seeing it all anew. Every tiny imperfection, be it a slight
mark on a baseboard or flowers past their prime, seemed to stand out starkly.
He couldn't help but wonder, would Pierce view these details with a critical
eye? Would this setting seem less than luxurious to him?
His apprehension deepened as
he handed his credit card to the receptionist. Those recent, unreimbursed
expenses weighed heavily on his mind. His worst fear materialized when the
clerk uttered, "I'm sorry, sir. Your card seems to have been declined."
Before the weight of
embarrassment fully settled, Pierce, ever the picture of poise, intervened.
"Let me handle this," he offered, laying his own card on the gleaming
counter. The card's significant weight and emblem signaled privileges Griff was
unaccustomed to. And then, the kicker: "Could we possibly upgrade to a
lakeview suite, if available?"
Though Pierce’s intention was
purely to ease the situation, Griff couldn’t help but feel a blow to his pride.
He wasn't prepared to lean into the Arlington privilege, an unchecked bounty
that didn't demand effort or accountability. Yet, as they moved toward the
elevator, Pierce's reassuring wink reminded Griff that the quality of their
room wasn’t what mattered in the grand scheme of things.
Stepping into the luxurious
suite, Griff's spirits plummeted as he spotted Pierce removing a thick bundle
of legal papers. The juxtaposition of the intimate setting with formal
documents made him feel suddenly trapped, caught between the pull of romance and
the tug of independence.
“Now, Pierce? Really?”
Pierce appeared genuinely
taken aback. “I assumed you’d want to get these out of the way?”
Frustration clouded Griff's
mind, tension palpable in the air. Struggling to maintain composure, he
challenged, "Did you fly out here solely to pressure me into these
signatures? What's your actual agenda?"
Pierce's face betrayed a
flicker of hurt, possibly even regret.
“Which hat are you wearing
today, Pierce? Lawyer or lover? Because you can't be both.” Griff’s heart
thudded, fiercely protective of the boundaries he was trying to establish.
Pierce, attempting to defuse
the tension, raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Griff, my only
reason for being here is you. I genuinely believed getting these documents
settled would offer you some closure."
Meeting Pierce's gaze, feeling
the depth of their shared history his heart started to race. "I need some
air," Griff murmured, turning quickly, and making his way toward the exit.
Pierce was quick on his
heels, their steps echoing in the Edgewater's opulent corridor. "Listen,
Griff, I'm here for you, not paperwork. You are the one I cherish."
Planting a gentle kiss on Griff’s lips, he playfully added, “How about a proper
lunch date? That's what decent boyfriends do, right? Admittedly, I'm still
getting the hang of it."
Griff's breathed, took a
moment wanting to make things work, "I guess we both could use a little boyfriend
practice."
The streets of Madison
welcomed them with a radiant splash of sunlight, casting a warm glow on their
path. As the fresh air enveloped Griff, it seemed to whisk away the weight
bearing down on him.
Wanting to open up and slowly
finding the words, Griff began, "Pierce, learning that I'm Brian
Arlington... it didn’t grant me clarity. Instead, it's cast a shadow over
everything I once knew. It's as if every memory has been tainted."
Pierce's gaze met Griff's.
"Your foundation has been shaken. I understand."
Interrupting, Griff pressed
on, "I grapple with identity every day. Is the name on my driver's license
a façade? Even considering a new name feels like I'm turning my back on my
history." He paused, taking a breath. "I don’t expect you to have all
the answers. In fact, I don’t want you to."
Pierce tightened his embrace
around Griff. "All I can offer is to stand by your side, in whatever
capacity you need."
Returning the gesture with a
tender kiss, Griff smirked, "You’re scoring major boyfriend points,
Mather. Keep this up, and you might just find me permanently attached."
Pierce entwined his fingers
with Griff's, a sense of longing in his gaze. "I wish you'd come back with
me to Syosset, even if just for a day. I
know Jarrett would love to see you. It would lift his spirits immensely."
Griff nodded seriously.
"I care about Jarrett and I do want to properly get to know my
grandfather," he affirmed. "It's just finding the time isn’t that
easy. I've already been off work for over a week; taking another so soon is not
feasible."
Pierce's eyes twinkled with a
golden hue, a fervent hope simmering in them. "What if we made it just a
flash visit,, even, say, tomorrow? We could share a leisurely lunch there. It's
about a 90-minute flight; you’d back by
early evening."
Griff's eyes widened,
momentarily overwhelmed. "Tomorrow? Pierce, it's a bit whirlwind, don't
you think? Even assuming I could secure a flight on such short notice, it's
just too much to juggle at the moment."
A bashful grin spread across
Pierce's face. "Actually, about the transportation..." he hesitated
before admitting, "I might have borrowed Jarrett's Gulfstream."
A bubble of laughter escaped
Griff, the surrealism of the situation finally dawning on him. "So let me
get this straight: here I am, barely scraping by with maxed out credit cards
and a bank balance that wouldn't impress a squirrel, and now there's a private
jet at our disposal? Its….Its, well its absurd.”
Pierce's laughter echoed
Griff's, a hearty sound that reverberated with genuine joy. "You are
singular Griff. The poorest rich man or the richest poor man I know, yet
unfailingly yourself through it all."
Griff straightened up, "Alright,
counselor, for this arrangement to work," he gestured grandly between them
as if encapsulating their shared universe, "I have some
stipulations."
Pierce raised an eyebrow in
jest, playing along. "By all means, let's draft a mutually beneficial
agreement."
"First order of
business, I require an attorney whose scent doesn’t derail my thoughts whenever
they enter a room and does not have skin which I need to explore every inch of."
Pierce smirked, "The
attorney bit, I can find you someone else in my office. As for my resisting the
urge to explore you – that clause is void."
Griff, playfully rolling his
eyes, landed a swift peck on Pierce's lips. "Second, I'm game for visiting
Jarrett tomorrow, I truly miss him. However," he held up a finger,
"YOU are covering our exorbitant parking fees at Dane County Airport.
Their rates border on criminal."
"I reckon that's well
within my designated boyfriend duties," Pierce quipped.
"Thirdly," Griff
drew closer, his voice softening, "I love you." He sealed his words
with a gentle kiss on Pierce’s smiling mouth.
"Fourth – If you ever
drag me to a country club luncheon with individuals named Bunny or Skyler and
they solely prattle on about yachting..."
Pierce raised his hands in
mock surrender, "In their defense, they occasionally delve into equestrian
discussions, but point taken."
"And lastly," Griff
said earnestly, "Before any move to Long Island, I need to secure a job. I
need my work; there are stories out there begging to be told."
As Pierce's embrace enveloped
him, his deep voice whispered reassuringly, "There's an abundance of news
outlets that would vie for your talent, and countless tales awaiting your
voice. But the only narrative that I care to hear is the one we're writing,
together."
Griff's smile radiated
genuine warmth, the weight on his heart significantly lighter.
"On that note” said
Pierce, “let's make lunch quick. Because I have some... conditions of my own to
lay out once we get back to the hotel"
“We could do room service?”
Pierce smiled, grabbed Griff
hand and ran.
