Coda 05 -Paris a to Z

there.
    “Tell me again, Zach,” he said, his voice a bit shaky. “Tell me you still love me. Tell me Im still the one you want.”
    “Angel,” I said, pulling him into my arms, “you are my life, and my north, and my everything. I love you more than ever.”
“Tell me were okay.”
“Were absolutely perfect.”
He put his arms around my neck, and I pulled him close and kissed him. His body fit against me so perfectly. His mouth opened under mine just right. I ran my hand up his back, and I loved that I could still make him shiver when I did it. I loved that when I reached the back of his neck, he sighed and deepened his kiss. And as I slowly undressed him, letting my fingers and my lips move over every part of his smooth, dark skin, I thought of all the ways he had surprised me. What had happened with Jon would have destroyed him back in Vegas. But here and now, he had handled it better than I had.
He was so much stronger than before—much stronger than I had realized. He was my angel, and although I was stuck firmly on the ground, he allowed me to touch him, and hold him, and make love to him. I made it into an act of worship, as if I could reach heaven itself through him. I wouldnt have been surprised if it were true. It was long, and slow, and completely divine. I made it as good for him as I could, and if he didnt quite pass out from holding his breath, I was at least glad it took him a while to catch his breath.
    T HE ceremony was simple. Jon wore a plain dark suit, conservative now as he had always been. Only his tie was unexpected. It was a bit brighter

    than I ever would have imagined him buying. Coles version of a suit was considerably less conservative and exceedingly more fashionable. He looked like hed just walked off one of the Paris runways. Their vows were personal and very brief.
    Jon said only, “I promise to follow wherever you lead.” Coles quiet answer was, “And I promise to teach you to fly.” Jon smiled at that, and I wondered what those words could possibly
    mean to them.
    They kissed, a gentle, lingering kiss. It felt wrong for me to see it, and I looked away. I looked down in my lap. I felt Angelos hand on mine. His long, slender fingers tangled with mine. I looked over at his smiling face, and the shadows in my heart fled in the glory of his light. “I love you,” I whispered.
    “I know.”
    In lieu of a reception, Cole took us all out for dinner. The food was superb, and the wine expensive. George had somehow made arrangements ahead of time with the wait staff, and as the rest of us were served
    decadent desserts with thick chocolate sauces and fruity liqueurs, Jon was given a lump of something brown on a plate. Cole looked at it in obvious confusion, and Jons cheeks slowly turned bright red.
    “Very funny, Dad,” he said.
“What in the world is it?” Cole asked.
    Matt had apparently been let in on the joke because he was laughing his ass off. George only smiled. “Its fruitcake,” he said. “Jons favorite.”
    After dinner, we took the bus to a bar, which turned out to be only a few blocks from our hotel. I was surprised when we walked in—it was a sports-themed bar, not the kind of place I pictured Cole in. He had obviously made arrangements ahead of time because they had a table waiting for us.
    “You had this planned all along?” Matt asked Cole, one eyebrow up. “Of course I did,” Cole said. “Im not completely selfish you know.” Matt laughed with joy and clapped Cole hard enough on the back
    that I was afraid he was going to knock him over. Cole winced. “Good lord,” he said quietly to Angelo once Matt had turned away. “I dont think Ill be doing him any more favors. That hurt .”
    “Tell me about it,” Angelo laughed.
    So we watched the Super Bowl. Matt, George, and Angelo cheered for the Chiefs. Jared seemed to oscillate between cheering with Matt and against him. His natural instinct was to bet against Matt like always, but he couldnt help wanting his partner to be happy. Jon, Cole, and I mostly drank wine and laughed at them, and in the end the Chiefs lost, although only barely. Matt took it well. The fact that he was extremely drunk helped.
    It was after three in the morning by the time it ended, and wed all had a bit too much to drink. We decided to walk back to the hotel rather than taking the bus, despite the fact that it was in the low thirties. The night felt crisp, our breaths puffing out in white clouds, and we wrapped our coats