Chapter 35 - Happy Ending.

I awoke, who knew how many hours later, being rolled to the side as the bed sheet covering the mattress was slowly tugged out from under me. 

I blinked around me in the dimness, which was only barely alleviated by the light spilling out through the open bathroom door. There was a dark, hulking figure looming at the foot of the bed. It was that shadowy creature who was trying to take away the sheets while I was sleeping on them.

“Eggy? What are you doing?” I rasped, my voice thick with sleep.

“Nothing. Just go back to sleep . . .” he replied as he continued pulling at the sheet.

“Egbert . . .”

He stopped pulling and sighed. “I couldn’t sleep. The sheets are all dirty. I didn’t have a condom on the last time and, well, I just can’t sleep on them like that,” he confessed. And if I could actually see his face in the dark, I was sure I’d see him blushing, since I could hear it in his voice. “I was trying to do it without waking you up, though.”

“Oh you silly, sweet, ridiculous man,” I laughed, rolling out of the bed to help him change the sheets. “I don’t mind you waking me up, you derp. Come on. I’ll help you clean up and then it’ll be done faster.”

So we changed the sheets. And we started a load of dirty laundry. And I watched as Eggy disinfected the nightstands and the lube bottle and everything else that might have come into contact with any trace of cum. And then we both took a shower, because there was dried cum all over both of us as well. But then Eggy started to scrub at the counters in the bathroom too, and I had to put my foot down or we would have been up all night cleaning every surface in the damned six story tall building. I realized it was just Brian’s reaction to having given up control to me in that last round of love making - I mean, I totally get that, right - but I was too tired just then to deal with it. So, I forcibly took the bottle of spray cleaner out of his hands, put it away under the counter where it belonged, and led him back to the freshly made up bed. I could tell he was still too restless to sleep, though, so I went with a distraction kiss attack. 

“There. Feel better?” I asked when we finally came up for air a few minutes later.

“Definitely,” he chuckled and pulled me closer into the enveloping circle of his arms.

I relaxed and let my head fall onto his shoulder, fitting myself into the hollow there that seemed perfectly shaped to the size of my skull, and let my fingers play across the skin of his chest. Damn it felt good to be there. To just lie there together like that, quiet and peaceful and calm. After all the hullabaloo of the previous night, I needed that sense of serenity. Although, just acknowledging the fact that I needed some peace brought to mind my troubles again and kinda destroyed the moment. Damn my overactive mind. Sometimes I wish it came with an off switch.

“Brian?”

“Hmmm?”

“I never thanked you for coming to get me and saving me from my dad,” I ventured quietly. “That was pretty amazing, by the way.”

I could feel the shoulder under my head shrugging. And, after a long pause, he added, “We were talking and then I saw him kick the door in and start screaming at you and . . . I had the most vivid flashback to this one time when Donal did the same thing, you know? I had been hiding from him in my room - I don’t even remember what it was I’d done wrong, but I knew he’d be coming after me - and he kicked the door in just like Craig did. Then Donal pulled me out of the room by my fucking hair. It hurt like hell. I think I had a bald spot there for about a month afterwards. Anyway, Donal was stinking drunk . . . why is it that drunk men are always stronger than they would be sober?” I shrugged but didn’t speak because I didn’t want to interrupt his narrative. “Yeah, it was . . . It was bad . . .”

“I’m sorry you had to live like that, Brian.”

He bent his neck so he could reach my temple with a kiss. “It was a long, long time ago, Sunshine.” I squeezed his waist in reply, which seemed to be just the support he needed to continue. “But I just couldn’t let the same thing happen to you. I couldn’t . . . I didn’t even really think about it. I just knew I had to come get you.”

“Why’d you come through the tunnels, though?” I had been curious about that. “I thought you hated the very thought of them.”

“I do. But I guess I hate the idea of going out into the street more,” he explained. “I’d been up in my office while we were facetiming but the second your dad broke into the room and came after you, I took off, running down the stairs so fast it’s a miracle I didn’t trip and break my neck. But when I came to the lobby door, I just COULDN’T open it. I couldn’t make my hand even touch the lock to turn it. I knew I didn’t have time to waste, though, because every second I fucked around was another second your dad could hurt you. Which is when I thought about the tunnels. At the moment, that just seemed like the lesser of two evils. So I just did it.”

“And I’m thankful you did. If you hadn’t arrived when you did, I don’t know what would have happened. I was about to pass out. Meanwhile, that idiot Ethan was just standing there watching as my father strangled me. Fucker.”

“That little pissant was your fucking date?” Brian scoffed. “He looked even more pathetic up close than he had that time I saw him through the window.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong about the pathetic part.”

“So, then, what’s this your father said about you kissing him?” Brian pried, a distinct edge of jealousy evident in his voice. “I didn’t hear that wrong, did I? You actually kissed that curly haired greaseball?”

I huffed and shook my head. “It wasn’t a ‘kiss’ kiss; it was just Ethan being an ass. Besides, I didn’t kiss him - he kissed me. Trust me, kissing Ethan is the last thing I ever want to do again.”

“Good. Because I don’t want that flat-assed skank’s lips anywhere near you ever again,” Brian declared rather more loudly than needed since my head was only about three inches from his mouth. 

“Awww, Eggy, does that mean you intend to assert exclusive kissing rights to my lips?” I teased him.

“Actually . . . Yes. I do.”

That got my attention. I sat up, turning so I could look at him, because I didn’t want to misunderstand where this was going. I really had just been kidding about the exclusive lips thing. I mean, Eggy and I were just so NEW. I know I had been growing more and more serious about him the whole time - hell, I had even admitted to myself that I LOVED him, although I hadn’t yet been brave enough to say it out loud - but I hadn’t been sure Brian was there yet. However, it seemed that he’d got there somehow too. 

“Look, Justin, I want to be up front here. I have no idea where this thing between us is going. I’m still pretty fucked up - I know that - and I plan to work on it. But whatever we do have, it . . . It’s important . . . I don’t want to fuck it up. And I’ll understand if you’re not ready . . . It’s just that I really can’t stand the idea of you kissing that Ian guy . . . Or, any guy, really . . . And it’s not just that I don’t want their germs getting on your lips,” he said, trying to lighten the mood, although I could tell there was still a little bit of serious concern hidden in there. “Let’s face it, with me stuck inside here, and you out there, you have a lot more options than me. I’m okay with that. But even if you’re out fucking every other guy you see, I would still like it if this,” he leaned in and kissed me, gently, tenderly, with only a barely-there pressure, but so sweetly that I almost melted, “could be only for us.”

Did I say I ALMOST melted? Strike that. I COMPLETELY melted. Seriously, could this guy get any more amazing? He just basically told me he loved me, in his typical understated Eggy way. Fuck, I simply adored my hermit. So of course I immediately agreed, because I’m not a fucking moron here. Assuming I even wanted to kiss anyone other than Eggy - which, for the record, I didn’t - I’d happily give that up for the chance to cement things with Brian. Because I really DID love this man. I loved everything about him. And I especially loved the way he had been willing to fight even his most paralyzing fears to come save me from my father. So, fuck it all! He could have all my kisses forever. Not even a shred of a doubt about that.

“It’s a deal. From here on out, my lips belong only to you, Eggy. Now, come here, you big dork, and let me show you what I can do with them,” I ordered and pulled him down so I could deliver my lips to him immediately. 

So, yeah, that all happened more than a year ago, just before my twentieth birthday, although it feels like forever. Since then, things have gotten better and better. My life now is pretty much totally perfect, actually. And I owe it all to my Hairy Hermit.

Craig - I refused to call him my father after what he did - predictably followed through with his threat to disinherit me. Big whoop. He even tried to drain the funds from my education trust, but was stopped when I went to court and got an injunction against him. Those funds were deposited in the trust by my grandparents, not him, and even if he had put the money in, he couldn’t take it back out without incurring huge tax penalties, so when I threatened to report him to the IRS, he finally backed down. Which means I’m still okay on the money front for the time being and haven’t had to drop out of school. It’s hilarious though, because Craig really thought he was messing with some ‘pathetic little fairy’, but after I wiped the floor with him in court, he had no idea what hit him. Craig:0, Justin:1.

I’m almost finished with my junior year at TAIP. It’s going pretty well, to be honest. My grades are good and I’ve been recognized by several of my professors for my talent. My work has been included in several student showcases and I’ve even had a few feelers from local galleries about showing my work commercially. So, things are generally good on that front. 

The big news, though, is that I have now officially moved into the Triangle Building with Egbert. It happened little by little, all last spring, with me gradually staying over more nights out of every week until about June, when Daphne finally asked, if I wasn’t going to use my room anymore, could she let a girlfriend she worked with move in. I was a little worried about bringing the topic up with Brian, despite how well we were getting on, but he surprised me. He said he thought I already HAD moved in, seeing as all my clothing and art supplies had long since taken up residence in his guest room and my ass had formed a permanent dent in his mattress. After that I figured what the hell and just moved my few remaining personal possessions in for good. 

How’s that working, you ask? Actually, it’s not bad. Brian still has his fears and his rituals and some days are more difficult than others, but we deal with it. I’ve had to become much tidier than I ever was before; which isn’t a bad thing, to be honest. Once the meds kicked in, though, things got a lot better pretty damn quickly. Within just a couple months, his more serious panic attacks had abated and we started working on the Cognitive Behavioral Therapy stuff more diligently. By summer I was able to tempt him outside the building. By fall I had him in therapy with a friend of Marcy’s who specializes in OCD and Complex PTSD. And I know that OCD isn’t the kind of thing you ever just get over, but he’s learning ways to cope with the stressors that make it worse. Basically, there are more good days than bad days now, so I can’t complain. 

Strangely, it seemed like the confrontation with Craig was the turning point for Brian. Once he started therapy and became able to verbalize his feelings more easily, he explained that the experience had been remarkably freeing. He told me he was so proud of me for the way I’d stood up to my father; something he’d never been able to do where Donal was concerned. He was especially impressed with the fact I’d told Craig to fuck off; he said that had taken balls, and proven to him just how strong I was, despite the twinkie physique. And watching me, insisting I wouldn’t take shit or let myself be browbeaten into submission, inspired him to confront his own issues. Knowing he had braved those tunnels on his own and had mopped the floor with Craig’s ass didn’t hurt his self confidence either. 

So I guess me having to suffer through a third head injury in just over a month and becoming estranged from my father in the process was a good thing?

Anyway, we’ve come a long way since then. I have a gorgeous, intelligent, caring, boyfriend and we’re living together in his architecturally amazing building. I’ve got my art. He’s got his technical writing job, which I think is boring as shit, but which makes him pretty decent money without stressing him out from having to deal with people. 

We’ve even got plans for the future; namely, Eggy is gonna slowly start renovating the building and leasing out the lower floors to actual tenants. I promised him I would handle pretty much ALL the interaction with both the construction crews and the new tenants. I haven’t told him yet, but my long-term plan is to eventually remodel the entire building into a bed and breakfast-style hotel with a brewpub on the street level, conference/meeting rooms on the first floor and guest suites on the second through fifth floor. I’ve been working on the plans for how I want to decorate everything, including murals that I plan to paint throughout showing off the history of the building and the Golden Triangle area in general. It’s gonna be great. I know Brian will warm up to my ideas eventually. He’s always been unable to resist my charms, despite all my crazy ideas, poor guy. 

Oh, and did I mention the sex? There’s LOTS of it. Soooo much sex. Brian’s totally loosened up in that regard. He says that the same sense of inner strength he found after the fight with Craig, the one that let him finally take control of his agoraphobia, has also freed him up in the sex department. Thank the gay gods and everything that is fucking holy! But it’s true. He doesn’t even make me wear an extra condom when he fucks me these days. Progress, right? Of course, he still prefers that we shower immediately afterwards - because, OCD still - but that’s all good, because we usually get to have a second go round in the shower. So you’re not going to hear ME complaining. Yeah, this bottom boy is happily fulfilled. And Brian, whenever he gets the occasional itch, gets himself fulfilled too. *Wink!* It’s really all good. Okay, more than good. It’s fucking fabulous! Not that I’m bragging or anything.

Today, however, is the biggest test yet of all those good things that have happened to us over the past year. Today, I’m taking Eggy to meet the gang at the Liberty Diner. Did I say big? I meant huge. Can you just imagine all the mental preparation this took; he’s going out in public, having to meet a whole gaggle of new people who will probably want to touch him in some way - if I know Debbie, she’ll want to not only give him a bear hug, but probably kiss his cheek as well - and if that wasn’t enough, I’m going to try and get him to order something. Hell, it took me almost an hour just to get him out of the building, and I had to promise to pack the half dozen travel-packs of wet wipes he insisted we bring along ‘just in case’. But here we are, standing outside the Diner. Now, if I can just get him through the front door.

“You ready for this, Eggy?” I asked, his sweaty palm clenched tightly against my own.

I could tell from the rapid pace of his breathing and the way he was biting at his bottom lip that he was pretty agitated, but he had told me before that he really wanted this, so I was going to do whatever I could to make it happen. 

“I don’t know . . .” he muttered.

“You’ve got this, Brian. We’ve been planning this little lunch adventure for weeks. Your therapist thinks you’re ready for it. I think you’re ready for it. Even you said you were ready for it just yesterday. And you know it’s not going to be as difficult as you’re making it out to be in your head, right?” I reassured him, taking one more step closer to the entrance and pulling him along in my wake. “Besides, I’m going to be right there with you, so it’ll all be fine.”

He looked at me with so much trust just then that I thought I might fall in love with him all over again. “Okay. Just . . . don’t let go,” he ordered, giving my hand another squeeze. 

“I promise. I will never let go, Jack. I’ll never let go.”

Brian shook his head and laughed as he looked at me; the mood lightened just a little with my teasing. Brian swore he hated ‘Titanic’, but still always found the time to sit down and watch it with me. Which was sadly more often than I would like to admit. 

“You have watched that fucking movie enough to know that Rose lets go . . . It doesn’t matter how many times you watch it, the ending won’t change, as much as I know you would like it to.”

“Okay, alright. I get it.” I laughed along with him now. I love it when he teases me like this. 

“But I mean it, Justin . . . don’t let go.”

“I promise. I’m not letting go. I already told you that. And you know I’m tenacious as hell, so you can count on me.”

He nodded, straightening up his shoulders and standing as tall as he could, and then giving me a crooked little smile. Did I mention how much I adore that crooked little smile of his? If I hadn’t been on a mission just then, I would have gladly taken him aside and kissed the fuck out of him for that damned adorable smile. Just don’t tell HIM I was using the word ‘adorable’ in reference to him - even in my head - because that would be a whole other battle, and we didn’t have time for that. 

“Good. Now, let’s get this bread!” I voiced my battle cry as I pulled open the door and led my man inside to the tinkle of the bell over the entrance. 

“Justin! There you are, Sweetie!” Deb roared in greeting the second the door closed behind us. I could feel Brian tensing up and taking a step back as the red-wigged-wonder came barrelling towards us, her voice seemingly louder than ever. “And you finally brought your mysterious boyfriend too! Come here and let me get a good look at you, Stud.”

“Yes, Deb. This is HIM,” I started with the introductions. “Brian Kinney, meet Debbie Novotny. Deb is the manager of the Diner, my boss, and the self-appointed surrogate mother of all gay boys in the Pittsburgh Metropolitan Area.” Eggy already knew all that, of course, because I talked about these folks pretty much constantly, but I thought it was only polite to give Deb her official due. 

I could tell Debbie was just dying to sweep in, the way she usually did, and give both of us the full Novotny treatment, complete with rib-crushing bear hugs, smeared-lipstick kisses, and maybe even a pinch to a buttcheek here and there, but thankfully she restrained herself. I had warned her in advance - I’d warned EVERYBODY in advance - that Brian did not like to be touched by strangers, and threatened to break the fingers of anyone who tried it. Apparently, I’m scarier than I look, because even Debbie remembered and controlled herself. 

“Well, now. Aren’t you just the hottest thing this place has seen since the chili Raul concocted for the Pink Plate Special last week,” Deb summed up her appraisal of my boyfriend. “I can see why Sunshine’s fallen, hook, line and sinker, for a beauty like you, Brian!”

“Enh. I don’t know what you’re talking about, Deb. I’m only with him cuz he provides artistically-pleasing living accomodations.” Brian squeezed my hand and out of the corner of my eye I could see a small smile on his face, although I knew he’d probably make me pay for my bratiness later. “I AM an artist, after all. If anyone deserves to live in an architectural showplace like the Triangle Building, it’s me.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Debbie. Justin has told me all about you,” Brian interrupted, trying to be the responsible one, as always. 

“All true, I’m sure.” Deb laughed loudly then pointed us towards the big booth in the back corner. “Well, take a seat with the rest of the boys. They don’t bite . . . unless you ask them to, that is.”

We didn’t even make it all the way there, though, before the rest of my friends were on their feet to welcome us. They all had these stupidly big grins on their faces and it seemed like they were being on their best behavior - as I’d ordered - all except for Emmett. As soon as Emmett saw Brian his mouth fell open and he started fanning himself with his napkin. 

“Well, now, Baby! Don't I just want wanna spread you on a cracker and eat you for lunch,” Emmy Lou gushed.

I could feel myself rolling my eyes at my eccentric friend’s words. I knew Emmett would be instantly attracted to my man. Who wouldn’t? And that’s okay; he can look as long as he doesn’t touch. 

“Guys, this is Brian. Brian, this is Michael, Ted, and Emmett,” I explained, pointing to each one as I said their name. “Michael is Debbie’s son.”

“I thought you ALL were,” Brian teased. I could tell he was slightly nervous, but I was already so proud of him. He was cracking jokes and being his delightfully delicious self. 

“That’s true,” Michael laughed. “But I’m . . .”

“He’s the only one I pushed out of my vagina,” Debbie interjected, cracking up at her own joke and throwing a bunch of menus down onto the table. “Call me over when you boys are ready to order.”

Michael moved over to join Ted and Em on the far side of the booth, giving me and Brian room to slide in on the near side. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, the way Brian very carefully did not touch anything, but I wasn’t going to give him a hard time about it seeing as he was actually doing really well. So far so good, right?

“Deb is EXACTLY the way you described her,” Brian commented with an amused smile aimed at the waitress’ back as she bustled around behind the counter and yelled obscenities at both the cook and the customers. 

“And you’re exactly the way Justin described you too,” Ted piped up, looking appreciatively at Brian from where he’d been shoved in the corner of the booth. “And here we all thought you were just making up this imaginary wonder of boyfriendly virtues.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Teddy, but it’s all true. He really is as gorgeous and smart as I told you,” I bragged, rightfully so. “Not to mention just as good in bed.”

“Ahem, Sunshine . . .” Brian elbowed me in the side, trying to shut me up, but no way was I gonna take back something that was true, even if I was embarrassing him. “So, you promised to buy me lunch, remember? Which is only fair after I’ve been supplying your bounteous bubble butt for all these months. It’s about time you started to pay me back a little.”

“As if you didn’t adore my bubble butt just the way it is,” I rejoined, picking up two of the menus waiting on the table and sliding one over till it was waiting on the table right in front of him.

As he looked down at the menu, I could feel Brian’s leg nervously bouncing up and down next to mine. I glanced over quickly and knew immediately what had set him off. I could just tell by looking at the laminated menu lying there that it was sticky and all kinds of gross. I didn’t want to embarrass him by handing him an antibacterial wipe in front of everyone, so instead I took charge, reaching into my bag where I’d stashed all his wipes and pulling out a whole packet. Then I grabbed his menu away from him and started cleaning it.

“Sorry about the menus being all disgusting, Brian. The breakfast crowd is known to get the syrup from their waffles practically everywhere. Usually when I’m working, I wipe them all down before I hand them out to customers, but sometimes a few get missed.” 

I efficiently cleaned off his menu, back and front, and then folded the wet wipe in half and used it to give the table a quick swab too. I didn’t care what the guys thought about ME being finicky or cleaning the table; if they gave me shit about it later, I’d just say something about not wanting my boyfriend to see what a greasy dump it was the first time he ate there. Besides, it really was a little gross having the menus covered with grime like that all the time. Now that I’d noticed it, I’d be cleaning them off more diligently in the future. 

After I stashed the dirty wipe in the pocket of my bag, I reached under the table and put my hand on Brian’s still-bouncing knee, feeling him calm down almost immediately, and knew we’d weathered that small crisis. No problemo! See, we could so do this going out to have lunch and meeting people thing. Piece of cake.

By the time we’d got the menus sorted out, Deb was back to take our order. She plunked down waters for everyone, pulled several pre-wrapped cutlery sets out of the pocket of her apron, licked the pencil she pulled out from behind her ear, and then started asking everyone what they wanted. I could tell Brian was inwardly cringing at pretty much everything he saw, and just dying to clean it all before it came into contact with his skin, but doing his best to resist the obsession at the same time. I was so fucking proud of him right then I could have crowed. My Hermit was being such a trooper. Nevertheless I grabbed his hand under the table and held on tight, just to let him know I had his back if he needed me. Our fingers interlocked tightly, as though he could feel my confidence radiating through, from my hand to his. 

Before our food came, the doorbell rang out again, and the next thing I knew, there were three more familiar faces hovering around our booth. 

“Hey, Brian,” Molly crooned, batting her eyes at my lover in her most coquettish, teenaged way. 

Mom and Molly had, of course, met Brian a long time before this. Mom wasn’t about to let me move in with someone she’d never even met, so Brian had bravely invited them over for dinner early on. He did remarkably okay with them around, even. I’d told Mom about the OCD thing right from the beginning, but she was okay with it. She said she’d rather have me living with a neat freak than a total slob, and I had to agree with her on that one. So, except for my idiot sister’s stupid crush on my boyfriend, it was all good. 

“Miss Molly. You’re looking lovelier than ever today,” Brian flirted right back with her, prompting me to punch his thigh under the cover of the table, because I’d warned him not to encourage her - she was fifteen years old and completely smitten with him - I mean, who can blame her, but it was a tad bit annoying.

“Hello, Honey,” Mom interrupted the flirt-fest with an apologetic shake of her head and a side eye for her incorrigible daughter. “Brian. I hope you don’t mind - I ran into Daphne at the Heinz History Center this morning and she said she was meeting you two here for lunch, so I thought we might join you. If we’re not imposing too much.”

“Of course not. You’re always welcome, Jennifer.” Did I mention that Brian had won Mom over pretty much from the get go with his elegant manners and oozing charm? Yeah, he had all the members of the Taylor family enthralled. Well, the members that count, that is. 

“Yeah, I stopped into the museum to check out the newest installation - featuring a piece by none other than my best friend in the whole wide world - and found your mom there doing the same thing,” Daphne explained as she climbed into the empty booth behind us and then draped herself over the intervening seat back so she could glom all over me and kiss my cheek with a loud smacking noise. “I know I already saw the painting way back when you first did it, but I gotta say it looks even better now that it’s in a fancy pants museum.”

Oh, yeah. I forgot to add that the piece I’d done for my Art and Architecture class all those months ago - the one that had started it all - was currently being exhibited by the Heinz Museum in a show they were doing on the history of the Golden Triangle. Can you believe it? Yeah, seems like Mayor Peduto had been a guest at the TAIP Spring Student Art Show and had seen the work I’d created with all the historical references to the Triangle Building incorporated into the multimedia piece and had loved it. So, thanks to the Mayor's intervention, I’d been given a spot in the new Heinz exhibit. Quite the coup for an aspiring artist, wouldn’t you say? 

“It truly is a lovely piece, Justin. The way you incorporated all those photos and found art objects and quotes into the painting, was inspired,” my mother commented boastfully. “And the write up the curators did connecting the picture to the Journal you found, really brought the exhibit to life.”

I had Brian to thank for that little twist. After my piece had been accepted by the museum, it was Brian who’d thought about including the Journal and told the curator about the secret love story that had inspired my creation. So now all of Pittsburgh knew about the gay love triangle that had almost brought down two of the City’s most prominent families. 

It’s kinda fitting, don’t you think, seeing as it was Billy’s story that tied everything together. 

And as I looked around me at the circle of family and friends who had come together this afternoon to welcome a new member into their tribe, I admit I might have got a little misty. Because just look at all the support and love Brian and I had. All these people accepted us for who we were. We weren’t being vilified for loving the wrong person or the wrong gender. We were celebrated for it.

And, no, not everyone was as accepting as this bunch. There were still bad people in the world. There were still bigots and homophobes, like my father, who would never understand. But little by little, in increments almost too small to measure, the world HAD changed for the better since Billy’s time. And thankfully, Brian and I were lucky enough to live in an era where we didn’t have to sneak around, building underground tunnels and hiding ourselves away. We were lucky enough to be afforded the luxury of loving each other openly, without fear of recrimination or punishment.

So was it any wonder that, as I sat there contemplating the bounty of support around me, I felt a little guilty? Brian and I had so much. And we owed all of it to the shadowy historical figures who had brought us together - Peebles, with his inspired architecture and resourcefulness, Billy, the gay youngling just trying to find his place in a world that ended up ostracizing him for his sexuality, and Jay, the epitome of the closeted gay man who was trapped by convention. Three men who’d never had a chance to live their reality the way Brian and I were, solely because being gay in 1885 was unacceptable. The difference between the endings of my story, and that of poor Billy Carnegie, really made you think, you know?

Of course there was one thing that hadn’t changed; the brick bastion known as the Triangle Building was still standing proudly, gracing Liberty Avenue with its elegant presence, more than a hundred years later. And it was still drawing in overly-romantic gay boys eager to unearth its mysterious attractions. First Billy, now me. Somehow we’d both found love in those walls. So maybe I was wrong. Maybe the world hadn’t really changed all that much after all?

“Hey, you,” Eggy leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Did I lose you? Come on, Sunshine, you can’t zone out and just leave me hanging with all your crazy friends. You’re the one who wants us to all live together, Kumbaya, happily-ever-after, and all that shit. If you want your happy ending, you gotta help me out here.” 

And when Brian punctuated his demand with a completely spontaneous kiss to my cheek, I knew it was true. I’d found my happy ending. All thanks to that mysterious, triangular-shaped building and the Hairy Hermit inside . . . who I just couldn’t stay away from.