9:05 PM - 1. 9:05 PM

9:05 PM

BLUR: something vaguely or indistinctly perceived. (Merriam Webster)

Julian watched the high rises on the other side of the street. A few bright rectangles here and there showed some people still at work.

Or they'd forgotten to turn off the lights.

It was Friday night. Everyone should be at home with family or at some bar with friends or at an expensive Italian restaurant celebrating their one-year anniversary…

No, no, not going there. Lights…right. The cleaning crew going through the offices? No. Julian’s analytical mind discarded the idea immediately. Then the whole floor would be lit.

What was he doing, anyway? Who cared if or why someone over there was working late?

Me, obviously.

Anything to avoid thinking of the most important presentation he’d ever meant to give.

“It will be all right,” he whispered. His voice sounded ominous in the empty office.

An hour ago, two of Il Porcino’s waiters had set the table behind him. Everything was perfect. Julian’s fingers tightened around the matches in his trouser pocket. The only thing left for him to do was light the candles and it would look like they were dining at the restaurant.

Emanuele had assured him that the food would be at just the right temperature to serve as long as Julian didn’t touch the lids of the thermo-boxes until it was time. ‘Not even to take a peek, dottore.’ Emanuele’s heavy Italian accent sounded in Julian’s head as he remembered the moment. The man knew him too well.

Julian was never nervous. The laptop hummed soothingly on his desk. Fully charged. Thom always called him Mr. Iceman when they gave business presentations. The projector was connected, and it worked perfectly. He’d checked it. Three times. He had changed the batteries of the remote this morning. Just in case. Julian was methodical. Some might say obsessive. Maybe putting a flash drive with the necessary data and his second laptop in the left bottom drawer of the desk was a little over the top. But Julian had no room for errors tonight.

Parking spaces were scarce downtown, especially on a Friday night. Il Porcino was only five minutes away from Julian’s office, so they had agreed to meet there and then go by foot instead of taking the car. It had seemed to be such a good excuse then.

It’s a stupid reason, considering they have valet parking. I should have said it’s more energy-conscious to walk.

The smell of the garlic butter made Julian’s stomach churn. His throat felt constricted. How he wished he could loosen his tie and jacket. But he’d dressed to impress tonight, and Romeo loved seeing him in his three-piece suits.

Exactly when it had become clear to him, Julian didn’t know, but now that he could see their shared future; he only needed to persuade Romeo…. He shivered. He was never nervous.

It was past nine already. Security downstairs knew he was expecting a late visitor. They wouldn’t hold Romeo up, would they?

Come on, baby.

The elevator dinged — nine-oh-five PM. He should probably turn around, maybe go to the door, welcome his lover, but his eyes were riveted to the bright, bluish squares on the other side of the street. He seemed not to be able to move them away. Three hard knocks and Romeo’s wobbly reflection appeared on the windowpane in front of him. Julian’s heart was beating so fast he thought his chest would burst.

Romeo stopped when he saw that the room was dark, and he peeked tentatively through the doorway. “Hello?” Julian felt frozen in place. “Jules? Are you in here somewhere?”

His hand went to the light switch beside the door, and Julian finally found his voice. “Stop!”

Romeo pulled away as if stung. Then he detected Julian’s silhouette in the dark. “Hey!” He glared at him. “I thought I had the time wrong or I had misunderstood and we were meeting at the restaurant after all.”

Crap!

Julian softened his voice this time. “I’m sorry, love. Please come in and close the door.” With both of them standing in the dark and only the stray light from the city filtering through the large windows, he thought they looked like puppets in a shadow play ready to act. Which reminded him…

The first match snapped neatly in two, but the second one worked, and moments later the gentle glow of candlelight illuminated the room. “Happy anniversary, love.”

As soon as Romeo saw the festively set table, he clapped his hands overenthusiastically and exclaimed with his best-affected voice: “Oh my God, this is sooo romantic. We’re having dinner at your office!”

A few joking words and Romeo had removed the tension. He always did. Julian needed to touch those lips. Their tongues tangled, and there was what he’d hoped for: the taste of — coffee — and something genuinely Romeo. All would be good.

The plan.

Julian stepped back and pulled the chair out for Romeo. “Please sit down.”

“Awww.” Romeo grinned and did as he was told. Julian quickly bent down and bit his earlobe. Hard.

“Ow! Shit, Jules! What was that for?” Romeo rubbed his abused ear.

“For ridiculing my fantastic romance skills.”

“Romance skills, my ass.” He eyed the wicker basket on the table. “Do I have to say a special word, or can I just grab one of those yummy looking rolls, slash an exorbitant amount of garlic butter on it before I get to the antipasti next?”

Julian passed him the basket without words.

“Hmm…these smell really good.” Two rolls and some breadsticks later, he finally noticed that Julian wasn’t eating. “Soooo…”

“Go ahead, ask. I know you want to.”

Romeo took a sip of his water. He still didn’t drink wine but had graciously declined the beer Julian had ordered for him. It might be a tad snobby, but beer just didn’t go with the kind of dinner Julian had planned.

“Okay.” Romeo nodded at the windows. “This isn’t the view I expected for tonight, but it’s still beautiful. The atmosphere could be nicer, but on the other hand, I could never get away with doing this,” and he put his glass down, pushed his chair back, came around the table and kissed Julian with everything he had, garlic butter on his lips and all. “Or this…” now his hand wandered up his thigh until he could cup him, squeezing his balls none too gently. “…at a restaurant.”

Julian took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Behave.”

“So, whatever your reasons are, it’s cool with me – more than cool, actually.” With that, Romeo sauntered back to his seat, took one of the grilled tomatoes, and popped it into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and then pointed behind him. “I always wanted to do it on your desk. I know, it’s clichéd.” Romeo sighed dramatically. “But it is our anniversary. What do you think?

Julian rolled his eyes.

“Why not against the window, then? It’s clichéd, too, but it has an exhibitionist touch, and the view is decidedly better.”

Chuckling, Julian carefully lifted the lid of the thermo-box labelled ‘one’. “Let’s eat something first; the food is getting cold.”

“First? Now that sounds promising.” Romeo eagerly grabbed his napkin.

“So, how was your day?” Julian set a container with porcini soup on the sideboard. “Did the new guy work out okay?

“Small talk? Really?” Romeo stopped unfolding his napkin and threw it back on the table. “What’s next, the weather? Man, you have me on the edge of my seat. You know that. Right? A thousand thoughts are jumping around in my head. You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

“What? God! No!”

This is going all wrong.

Julian glanced at the laptop sitting on his desk — being romantic wasn’t his forte — and put the lid back on the container. “Screw this! We’ll eat later.” He fished the remote from his pocket, pressed a few keys, and rolling hills in every imaginable shade of green were projected on the white wall.

“Now you want to make up for the lack of a lake view by showing me pictures of Mary’s Peak? This is Mary’s Peak, right?”

“Yes. Have you been there?”

“Only once. I don’t have much time for hiking anymore, and I heard most of the land up there is privately owned. You don’t want to have big-ass dogs spoiling all the fun by chasing after you on your first free day in months.”

“See the small road?” Julian followed it with his finger. “It leads you here.”

The next picture showed a flat rocky top with a few pine trees scattered about. Behind it, a cliff fell down sharply, giving way to a view of the ocean.

“Wow. Spectacular!”

“This will be what you see from the back.”

“From the back?”

“Of the house I’m going to build here. I bought the land years ago. It was a one-time opportunity I just couldn’t miss, although I didn’t know what to do with it then.”

Romeo stared at the picture with awe. “What a beautiful place to build a house.”

“Thank you. Do you want to see more?”

“Um, sure.”

The next picture was the draft Julian had hand-drawn a few months ago when he hadn’t been able to go back to sleep until he had put on paper his idea of angular forms contrasted against smooth, undulating hills.

“This is what you want to build there? Bold.”

Another click started a computer program. What had been a daring concept in grey and white before, became now colorful and tangible. All rectangles, the house sat on its perch over the ocean like a white fortress. Constructed of concrete, wood, and glass, it was uncompromisingly modern. Two narrow windows, going from the bottom up to the flat roof, flanked the square front entrance, reminiscent of oversized crenels.

With one more click, the house’s forbidding and hostile impression changed to open and friendly, when the back came into sight. It was entirely built from glass and white-steel beams. A terrace protruded over the cliff, supported by a complex wooden construction and thick steel cables, and a white, triangular awning provided shade over scattered lawn chairs and tables.

“I thought the wood could be cedar.”

“Julian?”

“Hmm…”

“Why are we looking at this?”

“Let me show you some more blueprints first, okay?” Click. “The house has two floors. The first is an open plan; you can see everything from everywhere except for the two bathrooms here.” He had finally found his laser pointer. “I’d like the floor to be black and white tumbled marble tiles.”

“Tumbled marble?”

“They tumble the cut tiles in drums to soften and age the edges and surfaces. It makes them smooth and warm, ideal for bare-footers like you.”

“Even in winter?”

“Because of the under-floor heating I am going to install, you won’t need your thick wool socks, so you could still go barefoot in December.”

“Um…”

“The fireplace will be here, and that’s the kitchen. You will set it up and choose the appliances to your liking. Just tell me what you need installation-wise.”

“I will choose the appliances? Julian—”

Crap!

Julian went on, ignoring Romeo’s question. He needed to wrap this up fast before he lost his courage. “For the second story I found this fantastic manufacturer who makes hardwood floors from four-inch bamboo sticks. I can show you a sample later.” Click. “These are the guestrooms which have their own en-suite bathrooms.” Click. “And this is the master bedroom. What do you think of a tub with an ocean view?” Click. “This is the office space on the other side of the hallway. It can be divided by a sliding door.”

“Why’s that?”

This was it. Julian had dreaded this moment as much as he had waited for it. “We can have the sliding door open, and work in the same room on our respective projects.” He fumbled with the remote. “And if we need to be alone or there is a meeting, we can close it, making it two rooms…” It slipped from his sweaty hand, hit the floor, and he watched the battery lid fly off, vanishing under the desk. “So what do you think?”

“Yes.”

“We can change everything you...” Julian rambled on, before the ‘yes’ finally registered. “We… What?”

Romeo picked up the remote and put it on the desk. Then he stepped closer and loosened Julian’s tie. “This was you asking me to move in with you. Right?”

“Yeah.” Julian closed his eyes. Could this be so easy?

Romeo pulled the tie away from under Julian’s shirt collar. “Okay. I will move in with you.”

“You will?” He just needed to hear it one more time.

“I will.” Romeo helped him out of the jacket.

“Just like that?”

A thousand more times.

Romeo threw the jacket on the desk, then took the cufflinks out one at a time, and put them in the pocket of his pants. He smirked. “Well, I could—”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Wrapping his arms around Romeo, his face pressed against Romeo’s neck, he breathed in deeply, his heartbeat getting slowly back to normal. “I’m exhausted.”

Romeo’s stomach rumbled loudly in the silence of the room. “I guess I could eat now.”

Julian chuckled. “There is lots of food.” One more minute. He couldn’t let go of Romeo just yet.

***

They sat on the floor surrounded by thermo-boxes and food containers. Romeo sopped the rest of the porcini soup with the last of the rolls. “We should do this more often.”

“Eating on the floor?” Julian had rolled up his sleeves and opened a few more buttons of his shirt. This was so much better.

“Having an office picnic.” He reached for two more bottles of imported beer, then gave one to Julian.

“Just don’t tell Emanuele.”

“My lips are sealed.” Romeo pulled the antipasti closer. “Show me my kitchen again.”

Julian wiped his hands clean with a linen napkin and pulled the laptop down from the desk. The remote didn’t work anymore. He pressed a few keys and an enlarged plan of the kitchen appeared.

“This is a great space. There are so many possibilities. Do you want a wine refrigerator?”

“That would be great.”

“Done.”

“And a decent coffee machine.”

Julian grinned. “Of course.”

“What made you design the house like this? Wouldn’t a cottage-style house have been the more obvious choice?”

“Maybe. But then I thought about our places. I like Bauhaus style and modern Italian design. Your place is full of antiques you inherited from your aunt, and you love them. I wanted the house and its surrounding to represent both of us. Inside, we combine the furniture. It will look great—”

“It will clash.”

“Yeah, but in a good way. It will create a dynamic tension.”

“Dynamic tension, huh? That’s one way to see it.”

Sitting on the floor of his office, eating off a five-star menu out of containers while clicking through the plans of their future house made Julian feel as if he owned the world. He might suck at planning a romantic dinner, but he could plan houses, and luckily the man beside him had his priorities straight.

“When can we move in?”

“I got all the necessary permits. If everything goes well, I think next Christmas.”

“Perfect.”

“Can I have the cannoli now?”

“Yes, but leave the gun.”

Julian groaned. “Aw come on…The Godfather? Really?”

For everyone who doesn’t know or remember these famous lines from ‘The Godfather’.