Dave awoke to his apartment filled with the aroma of bacon. He rolled onto his back and looked out the window, simultaneously daydreaming and analyzing the way he could only manage when he was either just waking up or just dozing off. It wasn’t until the laughter began that he decided to pull himself out of the morning daze to investigate. The two men who knew him better than anyone in the world laughing and cooking in his kitchen on a Sunday morning? Something was up and he aimed to find out what.
Dave made his way down the hall and immediately realized why Roger was laughing. Kenny was doing one of his infamous impressions – of him.
“…and I tried to explain to her that the only gowns made of poly-cotton blends were made for nursing homes,” He threw his head back and his arms up dramatically, “But what do I know, right? I mean, I’m the only person in her life who told her the truth about that god-awful lycra nightmare she wore to the gym. I mean really, why do people not grasp the concept that just because they make something in your size doesn’t mean you’re supposed to buy it? Some things should never be seen in public.“
Roger laughed so hard he snorted. Just as he grabbed plates from the cabinet and turned toward the table, his eyes met Dave’s.
“Ken?”
“Daaaarling, I’ve often wondered,” Kenny was on a roll. “Women have Lane Bryant – you know, fashionable clothing for the healthy girl? Well why don’t we have something equally fabtastic for us husky boys? We could call it Bear Bryant!” He cackled. “Get it? Bear…“
Dave cleared his throat and crossed his arms.
“…Bryant.“
“That’s cute.” Dave tried his best to look offended, but Kenny had this disarmingly childlike grin that made sure he never stayed irritated for long.
The sight of such a masculine man in silver lamé boxer shorts with a vintage pink tea apron tucked in the waistband and a red feather boa wrapped around his neck didn’t give much space for seriousness. When Roger came from behind the counter with a cup of coffee for his husband, Dave saw that he was wearing a purple tutu and swim fins.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” He offered the mug, kissed Dave’s nose and plopped a huge plastic tiara on his head, “You might wanna take that off when you get in the shower. I’m not altogether sure the rhinestones are water safe.”
Still in a slightly bewildered morning haze, Dave went into the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the shower. He closed his eyes, exhaled deeply, and let the water run down his body. A moment later, the shower door snapped closed and he felt himself wrapped in the familiar embrace of his lovers.
Kenny nuzzled Dave’s neck, his voice returning to his normal gravelly bass. “Happy Birthday, Daddybear. Breakfast is ready.”
As they turned off the water and toweled off, the moment got the best of him and a tear rolled down Dave’s face.
“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry! 40 isn’t fatal!” Roger always knew the right words to say.
“I’m 43.“
“Oh. Yeah. Well, uhm…“
Kenny popped Roger with his towel. “Chin up, buttercup! We can always use the vacation money for Botox!”
Dave pulled his men close and kissed them each in turn, grabbed his tiara and bounded toward the kitchen.
“Let’s eat, boys.“