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"Growing old is mandatory, but growing up is optional." - Walt Disney
Birthdays were a pain in the ass.
They were supposed to be some special day, more important than the rest, but only for you. Nobody else got that day, well, except for everyone else born on it, but it drove Kevin Steen nuts.
For him, May 7th was just another day. Gifts were nice, he’d never refuse free stuff.
Free stuff that didn’t suck, anyway.
But outside of the gifts and a really delicious cake from Carla, birthdays were useless.
That was Kevin’s opinion though.
Generico, however, had a different perspective.
To Generico, July 12th was the best day of the year.
Kevin figured it made sense. Generico was one of those “how am I even still alive” sorts who viewed every birthday as a miracle and a victory. Of course Generico would adore birthdays. At least, he had for as long as Kevin had known him.
Probably why, back when Kevin was still bringing Generico boxes of food, he made sure to leave some cupcakes for Generico as well that day.
Generico had seemed so upset the week earlier. Kevin remembered it well.
“Mi cumpleaños,” Generico had lamented, “Nadie lo sabe.”
At the time Kevin hadn’t known what it meant. How the hell could he?
But for reasons that Kevin couldn’t understand even to the present day, Beef Wellington had approached him to explain.
Birthday.
Generico’s birthday was coming up and nobody knew.
And out of everyone there, Generico really wanted Kevin to be the one to know.
It would have been a dick move not to get him some stuff after that.
But the cupcakes and gift card had been ages ago.
Everything had changed since then.
They had changed.
They were together.
A gift card and a pack of store-bought cupcakes weren’t going to cut it anymore.
But Kevin would be damned if he knew what the correct gift was.
Nothing was right. Generico was exceptionally particular about his gear, so no point in trying to gift him anything there. He could get Generico some DVDs, but the fragility of DVDs had never been compatible with Generico’s clumsiness. There was always Disney stuff, but Kevin had a feeling buying Disney stuff from someplace other than Disney World might feel forced. To both of them, actually.
Disney had been the most amazing vacation of their lives, and they hadn’t left there the same people they’d arrived as. But to go online, buy Disney merch and expect it to have the same meaning?
Not a chance.
He needed to find something better.
Soon.
Before Generico returned from Europe.
It pissed Kevin off and broke his newly awoken heart that Generico had gone on a Euro Tour without him so soon after they got together. But the dates had been booked months in advance and Generico couldn’t back out.
Generico wouldn’t be getting home until the evening of the 12th.
He would be spending his birthday on a plane.
Between the layovers and such, it was going to be over a 12-hour travel day for him. They had planned on having his party on the 14th after he’d had a chance to sleep off the jet lag, but it was all the more reason to come up with the perfect gift.
He sat down at the computer and brought up AOL Instant Messenger. It was a dying platform, he knew it, but a familiar and comfortable one, and logging on and seeing Rebecca was online, he didn’t hesitate to get her attention.
Rebecca HELP! he messaged.
It didn’t take long for a response.
What? What’s wrong? She asked.
Birthday’s SUCK.
Oh.
Hell of a way to lead with that, Steen.
Kevin looked at the messenger box.
Ok, yeah, he thought to himself, probably wasn’t the best opening line.
Sorry, Kevin typed back. but I’m desperate.
What’s up?
Kevin sighed, closing his eyes and trying to piece together the best-written words he could to convey the level of insanity finding the perfect birthday gift for Generico had driven him to.
Eventually, he began typing.
Generico’s birthday is coming up. And I have no fucking clue what to get him. It’s our first one together and I need to make it count. But fuck if I know what he wants.
Kevin paused before, with just enough self-amusement to put forth the effort, added an angry
>:( emoticon at the end.
Hmm came the quick reply before, several moments later, she continued.
This is going to sound crazy but have you considered roller skates?
Kevin stared at his screen dumbfounded. Roller skates? Why the hell would he want roller skates?
I know, like I said, sounds crazy. But hear me out.
And as the messages began to appear on his screen, one after another, a plan began to form in Kevin’s head.
Generico had slept in the car on the ride home from the airport.
Kevin hadn’t expected anything else.
He was a little sad about the lack of... affection.
And then rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of being disappointed that Generico was too dead on his feet to so much as kiss him hello.
He’d turned into a hell of a sap in just a few months.
It was embarrassing.
So, as Generico stumbled into the house, not even attempting to help with his luggage, Kevin let him.
They could talk in the morning. Generico would go upstairs and collapse in his bed, curl around his plushies, and wake up sometime the following afternoon, potentially human again.
He wasn’t expecting to walk into the kitchen to see Generico staring at his birthday gift that Kevin had stupidly forgotten to hide after wrapping it earlier that night.
“Shit...” Kevin muttered, closing the garage door behind him.
“Kevin?” Generico whispered.
Steen pushed forward, moving around Generico in an attempt to get his attention.
“No, it’s ok. I mean, yeah, it’s a birthday present, but I know you’re exhausted, we can do this tomorrow – ”
“Kevin,” Generico said again, louder that time as his fingers reached out to brush against the taped-on bow Kevin had haphazardly stuck on the top.
“Generico we don’t have to – ”
His partner’s eyes met his, full of sleep but also full of sadness.
“Birthday...” Generico sighed, and Kevin’s heart broke all over again.
His entire birthday, spent on a plane, alone.
With nothing to show for it except maybe a pack of peanuts that Kevin knew Generico always saved for later.
Kevin couldn’t have stayed put if his life depended on it.
Leaving the luggage where it sat, he walked over to Generico and, wrapping his arms around his lover, pulled him into an embrace.
Generico curled.
He didn’t hug back, he simply curled into Kevin’s arms like they were a true safe haven after weeks adrift at sea.
Kevin knew the tears were coming before he heard them.
And the only thing he could do was hold Generico close, cupping his head and rocking him gently.
Kevin didn’t know why Generico liked that particular motion.
Correction, he’d been told why, but it didn’t entirely make sense.
There were so many things about Generico that Kevin had learned that didn’t make sense. Not to him anyway. But there were always reasons.
Like how he’d found out that Generico preferred cool showers because they reminded him of the rain showers he enjoyed dancing in. That he chose Montreal over somewhere like Arizona in the US because he somehow thought that it would be friendlier after the mess that was turn of the millennium America. That he adored plushies but refused to ever have another out of stubborn loyalty to his childhood teddy bear. That the thing that made having soft, stuffed friends acceptable again was Kevin buying Stitch, rather than him, because Stitch was familia and you never left family behind.
That he enjoyed being rocked because his mother did so even when he was older and it reminded him of his real familia.
And that the perfect birthday gift had been right under Kevin’s nose the entire time, Generico just never told him about it because Generico thought he wouldn’t care.
Maybe he wouldn’t have.
At the time.
Things had changed so much, maybe he would have blown off the notion.
But standing there in his kitchen with his arms full of crying luchador, he knew he would never do something that stupid ever again.
Thankfully, the crying seemed to be slowing.
“Hey, you OK?” Kevin asked as Generico pulled back, “I’m sorry your birthday sucked so bad.”
Generico’s eyes were red and still damp with tears but there was no hiding the hint of brightness in them as he smiled.
“No,” Generico said, his voice full of both sadness and, was that hope?
“Kevin the best birthday.”
Kevin sighed.
Maybe the day wasn’t a complete loss.
And looking at the table, Kevin knew what he needed to do to salvage it.
“You know what,” he said, moving away from his partner and gesturing to the box, “here. This was supposed to be for your party, but you should have something to open on your birthday. So, go on. Go for it.”
Generico studied the box for a few seconds before looking at Steen for final approval.
“Yep, it’s yours. Have at it.”
Generico’s movements weren’t nearly as quick or deft as Kevin knew they could be, but Kevin chalked that up to the exhaustion. But, Generico’s movements were faster than they started as, and as his hands tore the wrapping paper off the package, his brow creased at the plain brown box underneath.
“Qué?” he asked.
“You have to open it. The box. They’re not exactly store bought.”
He watched as Generico chewed on his lower lip, focusing on the box and making sure to open it properly. It took him a bit, he was tired, but once he got the secure-tab undone and the box opened, his eyes went wide as he lifted the contents from it.
A pair of perfect, pink roller skates.
Generico’s jaw dropped and his breathing became ragged as he examined them.
“They should be exactly your size,” Kevin explained, “I... borrowed a pair of your boots to send to the guy. They’re professional grade, made just for you.”
The look of shock on Generico’s face was almost heartwrenching to see, like he was so happy that it was hurting him. And all Kevin could do was scratch sheepishly at the back of his neck.
“Rebecca told me,” he continued, “About the ones in the shop. The day you got your apartment. She said you’ve been looking for a pair ever since. Something about them being good luck, but you could never find a pair in your size.”
Kevin nodded his head at the brightly colored skates.
“These ones are. I made sure of it.”
He’d no sooner stopped talking than Kevin realized something horrible was about to happen and, moving as rapidly as his body would allow him, grabbed a kitchen chair and put it behind Generico to land on as his legs gave out.
For a moment, Kevin was worried about the skates scratching up the table, but no. The skates never touched the table, instead being held against Generico’s chest like they were one of his beloved stuffed animals.
“Kev- K- Kevin,” Generico stammered, his voice choking with emotion again.
As it did, Steen’s mind began to turn.
It was too much.
And all wrong.
Generico looked like he wasn’t just about to break down, he looked about to break.
“Oh shit,” Kevin said, pulling up a chair of his own to sit close to his partner, “did I mess it up? I wanted to do something great, I mean, this is our first – your first anyway that we – I mean...”
Words were becoming annoyingly difficult as his mind turned faster and faster.
“I just wanted to do it right,” he managed to get out, “I want to – from here on out at least. I’ve done so much stuff – wrong stuff – and I wanted to not... anymore.”
His half-formed statements and thoughts were bullshit but Kevin hoped they got the point across.
As it turned out, they got something across.
Because a moment later, the roller skates were set aside, on the floor near the wall, and Generico was out of his chair, headed for the living room.
Shit...
Shit shit shit shit...
He looked at the roller skates.
They were the perfect skates, or at least, he thought they were. Bright, almost neon pink boots, that had been designed to have the same signature stripe pattern as Generico’s wrestlng boots. Bright white laces, professional-grade axels, wheels, bearings – they had the works, with bright chrome finish and a pair of pristine white wheels that, ok, maybe weren’t the best idea, but Kevin knew Generico would treasure the dirt and wear they’d acquire until the time came to replace them.
They were perfect.
Or rather he thought they were.
But maybe...
Kevin looked towards the living room where he could hear Generico crying.
Shiiiiit...
The skates stayed on the floor as Kevin quickly headed into the living room.
Generico was sitting on the couch, crying over something on his phone.
“Jesus...” Kevin muttered as he approached, “I thought you’d like them, I didn’t - ”
Generico cut him off by showing him the photo on his phone.
It was of Generico’s headphones.
The ones they’d gotten after Disney World.
Snapped in two at the headband.
“Oh fuck, what happened?”
The mournful sadness in Generico’s eyes, laced with anger, told Kevin all he needed to know, and as he put the pieces together, Kevin suddenly understood why Generico was having a really bad night.
A 12-hour travel day would be hell on most people.
But 12 hours of travel for Generico without headphones or Kevin to keep him sane?
It would have been the worst sort of torment.
And something that the assholes they encountered on a daily basis would happily inflict on Generico.
Seething anger coursed through Kevin.
“Who,” he asked.
Generico didn’t respond, simply setting his jaw instead.
“I hope you at least kicked their ass for it.”
Generico nodded, his mouth and eyes pinching as they always did when Generico knew he’d beaten a bully into submission.
Kevin relaxed slightly. At least the bastard hadn’t gotten away with it.
“Good,” he told the luchador, “We’ll get you a new pair. First thing tomorrow. But...”
Kevin paused before crouching down in front of his partner.
“... did I really fuck up that badly on the skates?”
Generico’s lips parted in a mouthed “no” as his head shook to match.
“No,” Generico said, out loud that time, “Skates... perfect. Perfectos. Just... augurio.”
Steen had been working his ass off to learn Spanish since Disney World.
But that word was completely lost on him.
“Augurio?” he asked, “Little help on that?”
Generico’s head cocked slightly as he thought about it, before saying, “Fortune.”
“What, like, prosperity?”
“No. Cookie.”
What the...
“Cookie?” Kevin asked.
Generico responded by moving his hands together, then apart in a breaking motion.
OHHHH.
“Fortune COOKIE!” Kevin said, understanding... and then not. “Wait, the roller skates are a fortune cookie?”
Generico sniffled, then wiped away the tears that had lingered unshed in his eyes.
“Significan que será difícil,” he explained, “Pero mejorará.”
The words slowly untangled themselves in Kevin’s brain.
The skates were a sign.
Like a prophecy.
[It will be hard. But it will get better.]
Rebecca’s comments about the skates suddenly made far more sense.
“They’re not good luck,” Kevin mused to his partner, “They’re a sign of what’s to come.”
Generico nodded.
“Sí. Pero...”
Generico motioned to the house around them, first to one side, then the other.
“This? Better. After?”
Generico took Kevin’s face in his hands and, leaning forward, placed a tender kiss to his lips.
“Lo que viene será increíble.”
Kevin’s eyes closed, basking in the comfort of Generico’s voice.
The future wasn’t written for anyone. His thoughts shuffled around from day to day as to whether Generico was some form of cosmic soulmate for him or not, but even if they were meant for each other, predestination was a load of bull.
They had a future, but it would be the one they made for themselves.
Together.
But regardless of what the future held, Kevin would happily accept that one piece of ‘fortune’ for it.
[What’s coming will be amazing.]
“Are you sure this is where you want to try these out?” Kevin asked, pulling his car to the side of the mostly empty road.
It wasn’t a nice part of the city, not by a long shot, but it wasn’t particularly bad either. If anything, it was neglected, with the sidewalks and streets being maintained, but the buildings were graffitied and there was nobody around for as far as he looked in any direction.
But then, that was the point.
“Sí! Sí!” Generico said, getting out of the car with his roller skates and heading to a set of steps nearby to put them on.
Kevin parked the car and, making sure to activate the car alarm, got out to follow Generico.
“You know,” Kevin said, looking at the empty expanses of sidewalk on either side of them, “I guess you don’t have to worry about running anyone down out here. You can go as fast as you want.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Generico hummed, his tongue clamped firmly between his teeth in focus.
Kevin wasn’t sure when the last time was that Generico had ever laced up a pair of roller skates, but they weren’t too far from a pair of wrestling boots and, sure enough, Generico soon had them secured on his feet.
“OK,” Kevin said, holding out his hands, “Ready?”
“SÍ!”
And without further hesitation, Generico grabbed Kevin’s hands and pulled himself to his feet.
He... wobbled.
Just a moment, only a second or two before, getting his balance, he let go of Kevin’s hands.
“Okaaaaay?” Kevin asked.
Generico smiled.
“Kevin... es... good.”
Generico shifted his weight from side to side a few times before his smile turned into a broad grin.
“KEVIN ES MUY GOOD!” He exclaimed and, grabbing Kevin’s shoulder to maneuver him out of the way, took off.
Generico was laughing.
Laughing, hooting, hollering, and everything in between, delighted beyond belief as he began zooming down the sidewalk on his new skates.
Kevin watched him go, watched as he flew down the path before, dipping his toe behind him, he slowed down enough to turn around and start heading back toward his starting point.
“KEVIN!!!!” Generico shouted as he approached and, again, using the brakes to slow down, skated up to Kevin and took hold of his arms, spinning Kevin in place.
Kevin’s heart felt like it was zooming as well.
“So, you like the-mmmm"
Any further questions Kevin might have had were silenced by Generico’s lips upon his and, frankly, he was pretty certain he’d gotten his answer anyway.
Something that was confirmed moments later when Generico pulled back, his eyes shining in the summer sun.
“Best birthday ever!” Generico said and, with one final peck on the lips, turned and skated away in the other direction with a laugh.
Kevin watched him go.
Things had gotten... less easy, since Disney World. Being a couple was an entirely new challenge compared to what had come before. They’d gotten good at being friends and tag partners. But being lovers and tag partners was brand new and Kevin would have been lying to say it wasn’t without difficulties.
But, like the skates had foretold.
It would be hard.
But it would get better.
They would get better.
The relationship jitters still lingering in Generico would fade. The fear in Kevin’s heart every time they were in public would dissipate. They would settle into a routine and then...
Kevin pushed aside the notion.
It should never be routine, he thought silently.
Nothing about it should ever be routine.
Or boring, or ordinary.
Or generic.
He watched as his partner, boyfriend, lover, other half, or whatever word they were using that day, skated gleefully down the path from him.
No, there would never be anything routine about loving Generico.
There never could be.
Because El Generico was the least generic person in the world.
He was sunshine and light, fire and intensity, passion and righteousness, and above all, LOVE.
All of that, packed into the perfect body and soul, wearing the most brilliant mask anyone could ever ask for.
His lover.
His everything.
His Generico.
That night there would be cake. Cake, friends, other gifts, and a party to celebrate Generico reaching an admittedly unlikely quarter century.
He’d been through so much, it was a miracle worth celebrating.
But really, standing on the sidewalk, Kevin was already having his celebration.
Seeing Generico blissfully skating through an abandoned industrial park without a care in the world was better than a birthday party ever could be.
It will be hard, Kevin reminded himself.
But it will get better.
He watched as Generico turned his skates sideways and started doing loops.
Honestly, he thought, his heart doing loops of its own.
It’s already pretty fucking great.