Brady knew he was getting looks and he really wished he'd had time to change into his civilian clothes. He settled into his seat on the plane and waited for things to get going. Unconsciously, his hand reached up and touched his hair. He wondered if he would ever get used to how bristly short it was.
Brady patted his front pocket just to feel the reassuring bulk of folded letters from Ezra. He couldn't wait to see his boyfriend again. Letters were great, so were phone calls. Skype chat was a miracle. But none of that compared to actually holding Ezra in his arms, kissing those soft lips. He had to stop his train of thought there. As tempting as it was to mentally go over all the things he wanted to do to Ezra, he knew it would only make the plane ride feel even longer.
A man settled in the seat beside Brady. He was older, Brady guessed in his seventies. He was grinning at Brady and held up his cap, which said he was an Army veteran. "Thanks for your service," the old man said. He held up a shaking hand and Brady shook it.
"And thanks for yours," he replied.
The man's name was Barney and the conversation flowed easily and before Brady knew it, half the flight had passed. He once again thought about Ezra and touched the letters in his pocket. He'd missed part of what Barney had been saying and was forced to ask the old man to repeat himself.
Barney chuckled. "Oh, I know that look. Got a girl waiting back home?"
Brady cleared his throat. He didn't really know how to respond. He didn't want to spend the rest of the flight in awkwardness. "Uh...actually," Brady said. He cleared his throat again. "His name is Ezra."
Barney did a slightly comical double take and Brady braced himself. Barney laughed a bit. "Don't look so scared, son, I'm not one of those people." He patted Brady on the shoulder. "I'm too old to be prejudiced. Hell, my memory's bad enough as it is without having to remember who I hate and who I don't."
Brady let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks," he said.
"Besides, I'd be a hypocrite if I judged you." Barney reached into his wallet and held out a photo. Brady took it from Barney's shaking, liver spotted hand.
The photograph was in black and white and the corners were worn out. It showed a younger Barney standing next to a stunning African American woman in a wedding dress. They were smiling and it was obvious they were completely in love.
Brady handed the picture back. "Her name is Rebecca. We've been married nearly fifty years. I'm actually on my way to meet her. We just had a grandson and a granddaughter born a thousand miles apart in the same week!"
Brady smiled. "Congratulations."
Barney beamed with pride, but then took on a serious tone. "Look, son. There was a time when people told me and Rebecca that our love was wrong and unnatural. People told us we were an abomination and that we were sick. But you know what? They have no right to do that. When you see some of the things I've seen...well, you learn what's important in life. You love this boy?"
Brady nodded. "Yes, sir," he said confidently.
Barney nodded. "Then you don't let anyone tell you that your love is wrong. They don't know shit."
***
Ezra groaned at his alarm clock. He'd been having the nicest dream about Brady and he didn't want to wake up. He went through his waking up ritual. He yawned, stretched, and pulled at the hem of the T-shirt he was sleeping in.
He'd started wearing Brady's shirts to sleep in, even though they always got bunched up at some point in the middle of the night. It was just one of the small things that had helped him make it through the separation. Initially, he'd found that it didn't take much for him to start crying, but over time, he'd gotten stronger. He kept himself distracted and sure enough the days got easier, but it was still hard. He looked forward to letters and phone calls, those helped too, but he desperately missed Brady's touch.
As his drowsiness wore off, he remembered what day it was and why he was waking up so early on his Saturday off work.
Brady was coming home.
He jumped out of bed and took a quick shower. He didn't know why he was rushing. He had plenty of time, but for some reason he felt like it would go faster if he rushed. He took a long time deciding what to wear. He knew that it didn't really matter. Brady had never cared about how he dressed, but he wanted to look nice. He pulled out his best pair of jeans and a simple black T-shirt. He spent a few minutes messing with his hair but he was still ready to leave an hour before he had planned to.
He tried to distract himself with breakfast, but he was too excited to waste time. Even though he knew he'd still end up waiting at the airport, he grabbed his wallet and keys. As he left and was locking the apartment, Ezra heard Myles' door opening. "Good morning," his neighbor said.
"Hey," Ezra replied. He turned to see that Myles was dressed in a loose T-shirt, shorts, and sneakers. "Are you and Derek still training for the marathon?"
Myles nodded. "Yeah, it's three weeks away. Wait, isn't Brady getting home today?"
Ezra grinned. "I'm going to pick him up!"
"Awesome," Myles said. "Well, I'll let you go. Derek's probably waiting.
