** ALLAN **

THE NEXT MONTHS WERE INCREDIBLY CRAZY for Brian and I. On the week between Christmas and New Year after Carl called, they signed the contract. Actually, we signed the contract.

The gameplay videos were becoming so successful that they signed me up for an intensive online campaign. Once every two weeks from the beginning of the year until the mid-July release, I was supposed to release a new gameplay video featuring new and exclusive music from Brian. Also, at the end of each video, I was supposed to give a quest to the more than ten million people subscribed to the channel that, when completed, would unlock at times new content from the movie or some free and exclusive downloadable contents for the game. Gosh. Ten million subscribers. It was so hard to believe that we could reach that much in so little time. I still checked the count all the time trying to convince myself that it was real. I updated new videos once every two days and the ad revenue had become so nice that I left the job at the airport when we got the payment from the first video to pass five million views.

On top of that, as of March, Brian started the recording sessions of the actual movie soundtrack. At first, we would receive at home those super classified parcels delivered by the studio’s own delivery people that contained unfinished scenes from the movie. The cut was final, but it still lacked a lot of the effects. Then, halfway through April, he left the house early in the morning and arrived exhausted but accomplished late at night. I always waited for him so we could have dinner together. Sometimes, when his texts suggested he was extra stressed out, I would pick him up at the studio and take him to try some new restaurant. According to him, the work was coming out actually quite smoothly, it was only the amount that was driving him wild. And the fact he had never really conducted anything before.

One night towards the beginning of June saw Brian at the peak of his stress, exhaustion, and work overload. I was waiting for him outside the studio, enjoying the chilly night air while leaning against the hood of our car. When we saw we were both making some money, we decided to get a car and our drivers’ licence.

He left the studio about twenty minutes after I arrived, looking, for lack of a better word, dishevelled. His smooth shoulder-length hair was everywhere. He had obviously tried to knot it to a bun at some time of the day and got too busy to notice his excessively thin and silky hair was freeing itself from the bun.

Of course, I had seen him look much better than that, but those were the times when I felt my love for him burn brighter. I felt this urge to be of service to him, to make sure he was well rested, well fed, everything. I was going to take him for some pizza, but the situation looked like it needed something stronger, so as soon as we got in the car, I drove us to a steakhouse about fifteen minutes away from our flat that I knew he also loved.

‘I don’t know why they thought I could do it,’ he said when we finally sat at our table at the restaurant. ‘I don’t know why I thought I could do it.’

‘Because they respect your vision, my love,’ I said as I was spreading herbal butter on an Australian piece of bread for him so he could munch on something while we waited for our food. ‘They liked what you created for the YouTube videos, they auditioned you to exhaustion to make sure they were making the right … here, eat this … the right decision. And they believe they have and so do I.’

‘Fanks, mah wuv,’ he swallowed. ‘Thanks for lifting up my spirits.’

‘Don’t mention it. I was just doing my job.’

‘Are you trying to say I’m a piece of work?’ He asked half smiling, half pouting.

‘Your words, not mine,’ I laughed. ‘But it’s all there in the description of the job, isn’t it? Full emotional, physical, and sexual support at all times.’

‘You need a promotion, then. You’re a great worker.’

‘I really like to do the heavy work,’ I winked.

‘How long has it been, though? It feels so long already. I miss it and I bet you do, too.’

‘Brian. It’s been only four days. It’s not that bad.’

‘FOUR days?!’ He nearly shouted, but controlled himself, proceeding to shout at a whisper. ‘Four days! We’ve never been one! How did we get to four?’

‘Brian, calm down. We can do whatever you want when we get home.’

‘Oooh, I want to do so many things to you—’

‘…but you’re just too tired, right?’

‘I’m exhausted, Allan,’ he said, dropping his forehead on the table and staying there for a second. ‘I still have nine more days. I just want to sleep. But I really want to do you. And I want you to do me good. I want to do you on top of the piano. Because I can’t tell the piano to go fuck itself, so I want to fuck on top of it. Show that bastard who gives the orders.’

‘It’s the piano, right?’ I laughed. I know I shouldn’t tease him, but he was the funniest sleep drunk ever. Plus, he looked extra cute every time he entered that state. I quietly called the waiter, asked for our food to be placed to go and asked for the check, all while Brian went on complaining about the piano. I was afraid he might fall asleep in the car, because that would mean he would be fully awake for hours when we got home, but he gladly just kept talking. The next phase was past stories about the piano.

‘The bastard closed its lids on my hand. It almost broke my finger, Allan. It hurt.’

There he was. My partner. The love of my life. A grown, nearly-twenty-four-year-old man, pouting like a toddler. We got home and I parked on the lot next to the building.

I held him by the arm through the lift and inside the flat. I barely turned to lock the door when he motioned towards the couch. I was quick to grab him by the arm, though.

‘No, mister,’ I said with a low voice. ‘Off to bed with you. Come on. Come with me.’

‘I don’t wanna,’ he was still pouting. ‘I told you. I want to do you on top of the piano. Come on.’

‘Baby, my back is aching. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you.’

‘Oooh no, Allan. What can I do?’

‘Well,’ I made my voice go even lower, getting close to him, ‘you can still do whatever you want to me, but please, can it be in bed?’

‘Sure, my love. You are always the priority. Come on. I want to make love to my man.’

I had him believe I was being sexy stripping him and me.

‘Come, Brian. Come close to me. Let me make love to you,’ I should be ashamed of myself for leading him on like that when he was barely conscious, but I had his best interests at heart.

He came to hug me. I threw the duvet on top of us, the room at his favourite low temperature. I held him tight, caressing his hair, finally undoing the crazy knot he was still carrying about. It didn’t take him even a full minute and I could hear his breath already heavier, with him finally fast asleep in my arms. I lightly kissed the top of his head and relaxed, allowing sleep to come. My back as fine as always.