He looked at Colt for a second, but the doorbell rang, and he didn’t have time to think too hard about that.
“Excuse me, baby.” He smiled and gave Colt another quick kiss. “You’ll come out and play soon, yes? Everything smells so good!” He hurried over to the door and started letting people in. With a soft laugh, he thought about Norv and Ryder as he pointedly did not make anyone take off their shoes. He had the carpet cleaners coming on Monday.
It was gorgeous, music low and easy, the bar set up and attended by a lovely man with a wide grin and a deft hand. The trays of appetizers started coming around, filled with a mixture of the expected canapes and some wonderful, spicy, rich offerings from his lover.
He was on his second glass of wine before he really had a moment to stop and actually have a conversation. He looked up from straightening out a tray on the buffet table to find Timmy at his elbow.
“Dude! The food is fantastic.”
“Hey, Timmy!” He offered a hug that was returned with enthusiasm. “Thank you. A lot of it is Colt, you know. He’s been cooking.”
“I wondered. Some of this isn’t your usual New York party eats.”
“It’s great, right?”
“It’s fab. Seriously. It’s classy with spice. Totally the two of you on a little plate.”
He laughed at that. “I like it. I am so jealous that the two of you are going away, can I tell you? I am already looking at a trip somewhere after my solo exhibition closes. It’s good timing now, I guess, since that opens in a couple of weeks, but sun and warm sounds so good.” It was a short run this time, just long enough to get his real fans in and maybe a few new ones. “I’m not sure what I’m doing after that, so that will be a good time to break free for a bit.” Hopefully Colt could join him. Truthfully he was really planning it for the two of them anyway. He almost never traveled alone, which meant he almost never traveled at all.
Huh. He realized, now that he was thinking about it, that Colt probably wouldn’t be around for closing night of his current show. That was… disappointing.
“I know, doesn’t it? I know Colt’s planning a busman’s holiday, though. Mostly writing and playing small venues out there with his buddies. We’ll be dead at the studio until after the New Year.”
“Yeah, he said he’d be writing. I guess those guys are putting him up. I didn’t know they were going to play also.” That was disappointing too, to miss that. He’d love to hear those guys play together live. This show-business thing was often all or nothing. “If the studio is dead until after New Year’s, do you think Colt will come back for Christmas?” Why he was asking Timmy that question, he didn’t know. He wasn’t really, as much as just wondering out loud.
“He said you were spending it together, but… I mean, he’s going to be flying back like the twentieth, but I…. Whoa. You don’t know, man?”
His stomach twisted. “What don’t I know, Timmy?”
“Whether he’s coming home? When he’s coming home? If you two are spending Christmas together? He asked me what I wanted, for fuck’s sake. I know he needs gloves.” Timmy blinked at him. “You need to pay attention, huh? A little bit?”
“Excuse me? He didn’t tell me, Timmy. I would listen if he told me.” He gave it real thought, tried to figure out what he’d missed. “We haven’t had a conversation about Christmas since—” Since before he’d…. “In a while.” Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure they’d had a conversation about much of anything in a while.
“Ah, well, you should. He’s thinking presents.” Timmy winked at him. “He needs warmer boots and a coat, if you’re asking.”
“Thanks.” Why wouldn’t Colt tell him the plan?
Why hadn’t he asked?
Truthfully, he didn’t want to know the answer to either of those questions.
“Did you get some wine?”
“I had a glass. But I’m eating now. I’m not so good with juggling plates and drinks, you know?”
“No one is. Timmy, I’m going to go check on Colt. You okay if I leave you?”
“Totally. I’m going to go chat with the little blond over there.”
“Oh. Be careful.” He winked.
Timmy nodded. “Ah. I will. No worries.”
Kyle grabbed a glass of red wine and headed for the kitchen.
Colt was singing softly, getting soup into a tureen. He was covered in grease and shining with sweat, working easily with the caterer.
“Hey, baby.” He went in, holding out the wine. “I brought you something.”