Upside Down(69)

“I don’t think we need to worry about those three for a while,” Jordan said with a laugh.

I took his hand as we walked to the elevator. “Do you miss that? That kind of intimacy? That kind of sexual bond?”

Jordan stopped and met my gaze. “Not at all. Do you?”

My smile was slow and full. “Absolutely not. They can have what they’ve got, and good luck to them. But what we have? Is perfect for me.”

“It’s perfect for me too. And you know what would make it even more perfect?”

“Season two of Deep Space Nine, hot chocolates, and cuddles on the couch?”

Jordan laughed and hit the elevator button a few times. “Goddammit. You shouldn’t speak dirty to me.”

I laughed just as the elevator doors opened, and we stepped inside, hand in hand, and ridiculously, grossly, fucking happy.





Three Years Later





Jordan





Not much had changed. Angus and I still lived together, only now we rented a bigger apartment in Surry Hills, and Hennessy lived with us too. We still had Bruce and Ali, the Siamese fighting fish, though they were now Bruce the Second, and Ali Prince Junior, because apparently fish only had teeny-tiny mortal coils. And Spike still sat on the windowsill, and Hennessy still talked to him every day.

Angus was still involved with Veronica and Michael, and while he was still resisting making the final move in with them, we all knew it wouldn’t be long. He was at their place three or four nights out of every week, and they now considered their marriage—not just relationship—to be between three people. It was kinda weird, but it really worked, and the three of them were utterly, ridiculously happy.

Just like me and Hennessy. My family tolerated him just as much as they tolerated me, but his family had totally adopted me as their own. It was all I’d ever need.

Merry had met and fallen in love with Jodie, and they were sickeningly happy, living together for almost two years, and Merry and I still drove Mrs Mullhearn crazy five days a week.

Hennessy still worked with Michael, still jogged in the evenings, still listened to audiobooks, and he still kissed like a motherfucker. He still ran the Surry Hills Ace Support meetings, and the Soup Crew had established a recipe and garden community group that now met every month at the library.

And life was, somehow, perfect.

We’d spend lazy Sunday afternoons cozied up on the couch, me reading a book, Hennessy would do a crossword, or choose recipes and write shopping lists, or one of his many lists for every little thing. Sometimes he’d pull my feet into his lap, or sometimes he’d rest his head on my chest, and sometimes he’d fall asleep when I ran my fingers through his hair.

But sometimes he’d have to work late, which was totally fine, and I’d have to run the support group at the library. I’d done it a few times without offending or injuring anyone, so when he called me to say he had to work late and asked me to run the group, I didn’t think anything of it.

The usual faces were there, plus a few more we’d collected over the years. There were now eleven regular attendees, and they knew Hennessy and me well. According to the general consensus of the group, we were the poster boys for an ace relationship.

We were just like any other couple. We did everything they did. We held hands, we kissed, we hugged, we argued over cleaning and laundry, and we shared a bed. The only thing we didn’t do was have sex.

Hennessy had tried to explain that there couldn’t have been one ideal ace relationship because everyone had different limits and preferences. Not everyone liked to kiss or hug, and not everyone fought over laundry—because they wouldn’t fold the damn towels wrong like Hennessy does, and chances are they’d pick up the bathmat, for fuck’s sake, because every person on the planet apparently knows how to pick up the damn bathmat, Jordan—but the sentiment was the same.

We were far from perfect. But we were proof it was possible to be happy. To be perfectly happy.

Utterly, pristinely, perfectly happy.

I wouldn’t change one thing.

Not one iota of a thing.

Okay, so maybe I’d change the way Hennessy folds the damn towels, but he may have possibly been correct about me leaving the bathmat on the bathroom floor. Not that I’d ever tell him that. He was incredibly organised and planned everything meticulously, and my attitude of ‘just wing it because what could possibly go wrong’ made his eye twitch. Which was why he had the support group meeting notes all printed out in bullet form, even though the SMART Board PowerPoint presentation was more than adequate.

I stood at the front of the room with Hennessy’s clipboard as everyone filed in. They were early, but the PowerPoint presentation was ready to go.

“You holding the fort today?” Bonny asked.

“Yep. Hennessy’s stuck at work. Any and all complaints need to be written on a twenty dollar note and handed in to me before you leave, thanks.”

That got me a few laughs. I knew these people, and they knew me. They knew I had a tendency to get off track, and sometimes there was nonsensical rambling. But I liked these people. They were my people. My tribe. Where I belonged.

“Okay, so,” I started, opening the clipboard. “Hennessy kindly made notes on a clipboard for me. In point form, and he even noted when it’s a good time to pause and encourage discussions.” I turned the clipboard around and showed them. “See? I’m not overly familiar with the vacuum cleaner at home, but I can operate a SMART Board.”