Gulliver Takes Five (38 page)

I carry him to the kitchen in one arm and grab a doggie treat shaped like a miniature bacon-wrapped filet mignon with my free hand. The slobbering starts immediately, his legs swimming in the air as if that’ll get him closer to it. I have to smile. Have to laugh. Both feel so good.

“Chill out there, poop,” I say, putting him down on the tiled floor.

Señor raises his eyebrows, cocks his head to the side.

“You want this?” I ask, moving the treat around above him. “You hungry?”

Señor’s eyes follow the treat, his head rotating and shaking along with my movements. I lay the treat down on the floor. Señor approaches it.

“Wait!” I say, loud enough to get his attention, but not loud enough to wake Chase. Señor obeys, stopping in his tracks, even though his eyes don’t leave the ministeak. A light rumble of a growl slips out from between his bared teeth.

“Sit!”

Without a moment of hesitation, Señor sits.

“Lie down.”

He obliges, plopping his face on the floor, his eyes still fixed on the treat. No wonder every gay boy in the neighborhood is obsessed with Señor. He really is the cutest fucking pup this side of the Hudson.

I grab the treat and stand up straight. Señor’s eyes follow, but he remains on his belly.

“Roll over.”

He does.

And then, all of a sudden, I’m crying. Not big, loud crying. But there are tears and I have to sniff to stop snot from falling down my face. I don’t know why.

Yes, I do.

If only everyone would listen like this. Be as loyal as this. Trust me, as he does. Because most of the time, I really do know what’s best. People come to me for help when they’ve made a mess of themselves; what they DON’T do is listen beforehand and avoid the trouble altogether. It’s an endless cycle. Tomorrow, I’ll wake up to another ringing phone, the same people with roughly the same problems they had the day before, still no wiser about how to solve them.

“Beg.”

Señor hops up on his hind legs, his paws scraping at the air like he’s using one of those hand-bicycle machines at the gym. He’s also panting from all the effort. I love this dog so fucking much. I scoop him back up, mashing my nose against his significantly smaller and wetter nose.

“You’re a good dog, Señor. I love you, bub.”

Señor responds by assaulting my face with his tongue. Drenching my cheeks and forehead. I laugh again, holding him back as he still somehow finds a way to get his tongue to my cheek. “Enough, you slut! Cut that out!”

I hold the treat up in my free hand, and Señor goes still again.

“Hey, buddy, can you keep a secret?”

Señor’s eyes meet mine, his tongue still hanging out.

“It’s a pretty big deal, and I haven’t told anyone. Yet. But for some reason, tonight feels like the night.”

Señor blinks, his gaze unbreaking.

“Daddy’s positive, pupster.”

The words come out easy, but once they leave, they pull everything else along for the ride. Now I’m really crying. Like all of
a sudden, it’s official. Not when Kenton told me. Not when the nurse confirmed it at the clinic. Not when I stopped having sex. Not when I started taking the meds. Now. This moment. In my fucking kitchen.

“I made a stupid mistake,” I say, gasping. “A really fucking stupid mistake. Oh, and Gulliver is doing porn. Can you believe it? ’Cause I don’t!”

Señor takes this all in stride. I have to say, he’s handling it pretty well.

Now Gulliver and I both have our secrets. Cue more tears. More heaving.

It should be him I’m telling this to. A human being. Not a fucking animal. Haven’t I earned that? What more can I do?

Señor makes a sudden movement in my arm, stretching himself across the expanse of my chest to snatch the treat. I look down at him, chewing contentedly. That fucker spent the past two minutes scheming. That sneaky slut.

“You fucking thief,” I laugh. “That was a pretty sweet move.”

Señor licks my face. I reach into the cabinet to grab him another treat. He deserves the reward for those mad skills. His mouth hangs open, waiting for his prize.

“I love you, bud,” I say, nuzzling his cheek. “Thank you for being here.”

Señor barks quietly, shaking his head.

“Down the hatch, boy!”

I pop the treat into his mouth and watch him chew until it’s gone.

For Mom. Always, for Mom. For my father, who finally is resting in peace. For my brother, Jared, already on Broadway and making me sicker with pride every day. For my partner, Joe—my muse, my man, my music, and my miracle. A kick-ass mash-up DJ too. For Ray, my family’s Beatles-loving, computer-security-installing, guitar-playing knight in shining armor. And for Alan Picus, my truest friend, smartest teacher, and most kick-ass business partner.

To editor/collaborator Chris Alexander for his continued polishing, fluffing, soul finding, and shining. To the team of sick geniuses at AmazonEncore, led by the valiant Terry Goodman, who found me in the first place. To David Downing, who made my first novel so spectacular that I demanded he be my editor for the sequel.

Also, to all of my wonderful fans and supporters who spread the Gully Gospel, cheer me on, fill my events, write me awesome reviews, and serve as first eyes on any of the crap I initially produce.

And to you, reader, for buying these books and spreading the good word to YOUR friends. Without you, I’d be nobody, and these stories would be buried under the stuff in my sock drawer.

Photo © Richard Burrowes

Justin Luke Zirilli is the co-director and head promoter of
BoiParty.com
, a New York–based gay nightlife events company. He and his business partner, Alan Picus, throw weekly dance parties around New York City and larger events across the United States. He also works at XL Nightclub, New York City’s largest and newest gay dance club. In addition to event planning, Justin feeds his addiction to social media as the creator of Gorgeous, Gay and Twenty-Something, a private international Facebook group; as the New York correspondent of the national gay talk show,
The Swish Edition
; and by moonlighting as a social media and new business consultant. When he isn’t glued to his computer screen, or traversing NYC’s gay party scene, he spends his time in Hell’s Kitchen, playing PlayStation and watching
Game of Thrones
with his boyfriend, Joe.