Dear Reader:
Unfortunately my time away from the blog has not been inspiring towards this story. Instead I have turned more towards writing my erotica story Act Your Age which has been more time consuming than I thought it would be, but I feel I have to dedicate as much time as I can to create the story I want.
In many ways I feel satisfied with the stories I wrote for this blog. I will continue to day dream and maybe something will come along.
Best,
Bryan
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Monday, July 14, 2014
Ch 39 - When It's Over
Dear Reader, unfortunately or maybe fortunately I have gotten into writing a new novel that I feel I need to devote some attention to as I have been making significant progress. I'm going to take a three week break from posting Inside the Beltway so that I can devote myself to this other work without losing more focus on Inside the Beltway. Who knows maybe the break with let me get some fresh perspective. Best, Bryan
It’s over, Spencer told himself as he sat across the table from Aden. They were at an expensive restaurant. They hadn’t even ordered yet. It had started as a date. At least that was the intention. No, maybe it wasn’t, Spencer thought, maybe that’s what he told himself so that’s what he could tell Aden to get him there.
This is what it feels like. We’re both going through some motion. I don’t even know why he showed up. Aden looked up from his phone, smiled.
“What’s going on?” Aden asked.
“Nothing,” Spencer said.
“Sorry,” he said holding up his phone. “It’s my sister. This is my last message.”
There were so many things Spencer wanted to say. He wanted to demand his money back. He wanted to yell at him for all the missed phone calls and text messages. He wanted to yell at him for stringing him along. Was he just a Sugar Daddy?
He felt like he was about to tip over the edge and do something he’d regret so he got up and walked away. Aden looked up, watched him walk away. Spencer could feel him staring at him but he kept moving even though it felt like an elastic band was stretching between them. He spotted the waiter, moved to him, and stopped him.
“I’m sorry but I have to go,” he said. “I won’t be ordering anything.”
“No problem,” the waiter responded.
Spencer looked over his shoulder to see Aden getting up from the table. It looked like he was going to follow. Spencer continued out to the front of the restaurant where he spotted the valet and asked for his car.
“But you just arrived,” the man said.
“And now I’m leaving,” Spencer replied.
“Okay, just a minute,” the man said.
Spencer put his hands in his pockets and looked out to the busy city street. He wasn’t surprised but a little terrified when he heard the door open behind him.
“Where are you going?” Aden asked.
Spencer rolled his eyes. There was so much he wanted to say.
“Look, I put my phone away, come back inside. I promise I won’t use it anymore.”
Spencer turned on him. He saw the man’s handsome face, his broad shoulders, and he remembered that day at the beach. He thought about the night in bed, the next morning when he met Josh, and the sex they had. It was good but it wasn’t worth it.
“You were sitting there for ten minutes exchanging text messages with someone but I hardly ever hear from you,” Spencer said. “I’m the one who usually has to start it and even then I’m not sure if you’re going to respond.”
“Hey, I’m sorry but I get busy.”
“Even when you’re with me. When you’re with me you’re really somewhere else, with someone else. I’m curious but just how many guys are you dating?”
“I’m not,” Aden said.
Spencer rolled his eyes.
“Okay, I’m dating someone else too but it’s not like we’re committed. It’s not like we’re monogamous and I swear it wasn’t him. I was texting my sister.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Spencer said.
“I thought you might try to pull this on me,” Aden replied.
“Why did you even come here tonight?” Spencer asked. "Was there any future together?"
“I don’t know. I thought you were pretty good in bed.”
“Didn’t want to pass up a free meal?”
“That’s low man. I don’t deserve that.”
“No? Then give me my forty bucks back?”
“What?”
“You don’t even remember,” Spencer said. “I loaned you money for a sweater. I thought you were going to pay me back.”
Aden contemplated what he said. It looked as if he were sorting through people who had given him gifts, the gifts he had been given, and if it had been implied that the person would be paid back.
“Just keep it,” Spencer said. He looked to the valet.
“Just one minute sir,” the man said.
“Can I get a ride home?” Aden asked.
Spencer shook his head. Of all things to ask.
“It’s over,” Spencer said.
“You’re a real asshole,” Aden said before walking past him and down the sidewalk.
“I’m the asshole?” Spencer yelled.
“Sir,” the valet said.
He looked to the man who stood embarrassed by the cursing yet trying to remain professional. Spencer apologized to him. It wasn’t long after that his car arrived. He tipped the valet, then drove away.
Usually he would have headed to the guys, sought comfort with them, but he wanted to go home instead. He moved on autopilot as he drove home, parked his car, locked it, and headed to the elevator of his building. He got to his front door, took out his keys, unlocked and opened it. He pushed open the door to see the glow of the television and hear a television show.
He didn’t recognize the voices but he knew the sound and the light meant Josh was home. Someone is home, he thought. That's a nice feeling.
He stepped inside and closed the door. It felt like he left Aden and his disappointment outside. In here he was someone else. He stepped to the living room. Josh was on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table.
“I’m eating lots of ice cream, then I’m going to bed and fall into a sugar coma,” Spencer said. “Should I bring one spoon or two?”
“That bad of a day? Why don’t you come in and talk about it?”
Spencer decided to forget about the ice cream for the moment and went into his living room where he sat next to Josh who muted the television.
“What’s going on?” Josh asked.
“I broke up with Aden,” Spencer answered.
“Sorry to hear that,” Josh said. “Are you going to be okay?”
Spencer snorted at the question. Someone was asking if he was going to be okay. He nodded and sat back on the couch.
“How about instead of ice cream we have a beer?” Josh asked. “We can zone out in front of the TV.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Spencer said.
It’s over, Spencer told himself as he sat across the table from Aden. They were at an expensive restaurant. They hadn’t even ordered yet. It had started as a date. At least that was the intention. No, maybe it wasn’t, Spencer thought, maybe that’s what he told himself so that’s what he could tell Aden to get him there.
This is what it feels like. We’re both going through some motion. I don’t even know why he showed up. Aden looked up from his phone, smiled.
“What’s going on?” Aden asked.
“Nothing,” Spencer said.
“Sorry,” he said holding up his phone. “It’s my sister. This is my last message.”
There were so many things Spencer wanted to say. He wanted to demand his money back. He wanted to yell at him for all the missed phone calls and text messages. He wanted to yell at him for stringing him along. Was he just a Sugar Daddy?
He felt like he was about to tip over the edge and do something he’d regret so he got up and walked away. Aden looked up, watched him walk away. Spencer could feel him staring at him but he kept moving even though it felt like an elastic band was stretching between them. He spotted the waiter, moved to him, and stopped him.
“I’m sorry but I have to go,” he said. “I won’t be ordering anything.”
“No problem,” the waiter responded.
Spencer looked over his shoulder to see Aden getting up from the table. It looked like he was going to follow. Spencer continued out to the front of the restaurant where he spotted the valet and asked for his car.
“But you just arrived,” the man said.
“And now I’m leaving,” Spencer replied.
“Okay, just a minute,” the man said.
Spencer put his hands in his pockets and looked out to the busy city street. He wasn’t surprised but a little terrified when he heard the door open behind him.
“Where are you going?” Aden asked.
Spencer rolled his eyes. There was so much he wanted to say.
“Look, I put my phone away, come back inside. I promise I won’t use it anymore.”
Spencer turned on him. He saw the man’s handsome face, his broad shoulders, and he remembered that day at the beach. He thought about the night in bed, the next morning when he met Josh, and the sex they had. It was good but it wasn’t worth it.
“You were sitting there for ten minutes exchanging text messages with someone but I hardly ever hear from you,” Spencer said. “I’m the one who usually has to start it and even then I’m not sure if you’re going to respond.”
“Hey, I’m sorry but I get busy.”
“Even when you’re with me. When you’re with me you’re really somewhere else, with someone else. I’m curious but just how many guys are you dating?”
“I’m not,” Aden said.
Spencer rolled his eyes.
“Okay, I’m dating someone else too but it’s not like we’re committed. It’s not like we’re monogamous and I swear it wasn’t him. I was texting my sister.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Spencer said.
“I thought you might try to pull this on me,” Aden replied.
“Why did you even come here tonight?” Spencer asked. "Was there any future together?"
“I don’t know. I thought you were pretty good in bed.”
“Didn’t want to pass up a free meal?”
“That’s low man. I don’t deserve that.”
“No? Then give me my forty bucks back?”
“What?”
“You don’t even remember,” Spencer said. “I loaned you money for a sweater. I thought you were going to pay me back.”
Aden contemplated what he said. It looked as if he were sorting through people who had given him gifts, the gifts he had been given, and if it had been implied that the person would be paid back.
“Just keep it,” Spencer said. He looked to the valet.
“Just one minute sir,” the man said.
“Can I get a ride home?” Aden asked.
Spencer shook his head. Of all things to ask.
“It’s over,” Spencer said.
“You’re a real asshole,” Aden said before walking past him and down the sidewalk.
“I’m the asshole?” Spencer yelled.
“Sir,” the valet said.
He looked to the man who stood embarrassed by the cursing yet trying to remain professional. Spencer apologized to him. It wasn’t long after that his car arrived. He tipped the valet, then drove away.
Usually he would have headed to the guys, sought comfort with them, but he wanted to go home instead. He moved on autopilot as he drove home, parked his car, locked it, and headed to the elevator of his building. He got to his front door, took out his keys, unlocked and opened it. He pushed open the door to see the glow of the television and hear a television show.
He didn’t recognize the voices but he knew the sound and the light meant Josh was home. Someone is home, he thought. That's a nice feeling.
He stepped inside and closed the door. It felt like he left Aden and his disappointment outside. In here he was someone else. He stepped to the living room. Josh was on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table.
“I’m eating lots of ice cream, then I’m going to bed and fall into a sugar coma,” Spencer said. “Should I bring one spoon or two?”
“That bad of a day? Why don’t you come in and talk about it?”
Spencer decided to forget about the ice cream for the moment and went into his living room where he sat next to Josh who muted the television.
“What’s going on?” Josh asked.
“I broke up with Aden,” Spencer answered.
“Sorry to hear that,” Josh said. “Are you going to be okay?”
Spencer snorted at the question. Someone was asking if he was going to be okay. He nodded and sat back on the couch.
“How about instead of ice cream we have a beer?” Josh asked. “We can zone out in front of the TV.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Spencer said.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Ch 38 - Swishy on the Bus
Walter couldn’t help but notice the teen boys as he walked to the back of the metro bus, not because they were cute or handsome, but because they reminded him of the jock boys from high school. They were like the ones who had chased him through the halls and bullied him. He eyed them warily as he stepped between them, two on each side of the aisle. He was afraid of being tripped or antagonized in some way. His fear only seemed to draw their attention.
They sniggered and laughed, seemingly at his expense. He thought to prepare himself in some way so he sat up straight, his body became rigid. It was a facade of masculinity he had used in those high school days. That was when he spotted another teen boy between him and the others staring at him. The boy was not unlike himself, thin, dark haired, an angled face, full lips, and a faked sense of toughness.
No, it was a look of apathy, a practiced disinterest. Have no emotions so they can’t be hurt. Have no interests so they can’t be mocked. Live a secret, double life, one that he dreamed of one day being his true identity when he was out on his own, when he was independent and didn’t have to share the same space of his oppressors.
The jock boys seemed to lose interest, even the boy like himself did as well, and so he looked out the window but always kept his attention focused in that direction. Somehow he thought the worst they could do was throw a paper ball at him. He sighed at the thought.
The car tops became a pattern of low then high like a wave. The buildings were familiar landmarks. People were faceless dots of color. He knew his stop by the number of turns and the speed of the bus. He knew his was coming up. He looked around to see that not much had changed. He would have liked it if the boys had gotten off first but as it was he knew he needed to act.
He pulled the signal cord, then got to his feet, and took hold of the backs of seats and polls as he moved to the back door. The bus slowed so he readied himself to step off, sometimes not every bus driver pulled close enough to the curb. He adjusted his backpack and his shirt rode up his side but he was quick to fix it. Had they seen his diaper? Had they seen part of his skin? He couldn’t help but look for danger out of the corner of his eye.
The doors opened and he began to step away.
“Queer,” one of the boys said.
"Faggot," another coughed.
Walter continued to exit the bus. He heard the doors close behind him and for a moment he thought it was over when he heard them rattle again he turned and stepped back only to find the boy like himself there.
They bumped into each other and apologized. Walter turned away to get his bearings but the young man moved with him, stopped at his side as if there was more to be said.
“Hey, listen I’m sorry about those guys on the bus,” the young man said.
“Do you know them?”
“They aren’t friends of mine but we go to the same high school.”
“Sorry about that,” Walter said.
“My name’s Chester,” the young man said.
“Walter,” he replied.
“Hey uh, listen, I’m doing a project for class where we’re supposed to interview people. Could I ask you some questions?”
“Really?”
He looked to Chester who looked to the sidewalk embarrassed by his lie.
“Maybe I can buy you a cup of coffee,” Chester said.
“I don’t know,” Walter replied.
“Just five minutes,” Chester said.
Walter agreed. They walked away from the bus stop and down the street to a coffee shop where they each got a cup of coffee that they carried to a table by the window. They sat and looked at each other.
“Why are you like that?”
“Like what?”
“You know,” Devon said.
“Such a faggot,” Walter replied.
Devon blushed at the word, at the possibility that was the word he had been thinking. He looked to his coffee. His ears were red. Walter regretted being so abrasive. He wanted to correct it somehow.
“My mother always thought I should have been a girl. She knew I used to play with her makeup and clothing. I don’t know. It wasn’t like I wanted to be a woman. It was just different. I remember that I didn’t really care about gender or masculinity. I used to watch her putting on her makeup and it always interested me how she transformed with it. I thought it was neat the way her lips looked."
“Can I ask you something?”
Walter raised his eyebrows in expectation.
“Does it hurt?”
Walter rolled his eyes.
“You shouldn’t worry about that. It’s not about sexual acts. It’s about love.”
Chester sat up, took a sip from his coffee.
“Shouldn’t you be recording this?”
Chester shook his head.
“There is no project is there?”
If his effeminate demeanor was a threat to those jock boys, then it was also a signal to others like himself. It wasn’t some act or something fake. It was some unconscious expression that mixed gender expectations. He knew many people were annoyed, even offended by it, and yet he had no other choice but to be himself.
They sniggered and laughed, seemingly at his expense. He thought to prepare himself in some way so he sat up straight, his body became rigid. It was a facade of masculinity he had used in those high school days. That was when he spotted another teen boy between him and the others staring at him. The boy was not unlike himself, thin, dark haired, an angled face, full lips, and a faked sense of toughness.
No, it was a look of apathy, a practiced disinterest. Have no emotions so they can’t be hurt. Have no interests so they can’t be mocked. Live a secret, double life, one that he dreamed of one day being his true identity when he was out on his own, when he was independent and didn’t have to share the same space of his oppressors.
The jock boys seemed to lose interest, even the boy like himself did as well, and so he looked out the window but always kept his attention focused in that direction. Somehow he thought the worst they could do was throw a paper ball at him. He sighed at the thought.
The car tops became a pattern of low then high like a wave. The buildings were familiar landmarks. People were faceless dots of color. He knew his stop by the number of turns and the speed of the bus. He knew his was coming up. He looked around to see that not much had changed. He would have liked it if the boys had gotten off first but as it was he knew he needed to act.
He pulled the signal cord, then got to his feet, and took hold of the backs of seats and polls as he moved to the back door. The bus slowed so he readied himself to step off, sometimes not every bus driver pulled close enough to the curb. He adjusted his backpack and his shirt rode up his side but he was quick to fix it. Had they seen his diaper? Had they seen part of his skin? He couldn’t help but look for danger out of the corner of his eye.
The doors opened and he began to step away.
“Queer,” one of the boys said.
"Faggot," another coughed.
Walter continued to exit the bus. He heard the doors close behind him and for a moment he thought it was over when he heard them rattle again he turned and stepped back only to find the boy like himself there.
They bumped into each other and apologized. Walter turned away to get his bearings but the young man moved with him, stopped at his side as if there was more to be said.
“Hey, listen I’m sorry about those guys on the bus,” the young man said.
“Do you know them?”
“They aren’t friends of mine but we go to the same high school.”
“Sorry about that,” Walter said.
“My name’s Chester,” the young man said.
“Walter,” he replied.
“Hey uh, listen, I’m doing a project for class where we’re supposed to interview people. Could I ask you some questions?”
“Really?”
He looked to Chester who looked to the sidewalk embarrassed by his lie.
“Maybe I can buy you a cup of coffee,” Chester said.
“I don’t know,” Walter replied.
“Just five minutes,” Chester said.
Walter agreed. They walked away from the bus stop and down the street to a coffee shop where they each got a cup of coffee that they carried to a table by the window. They sat and looked at each other.
“Why are you like that?”
“Like what?”
“You know,” Devon said.
“Such a faggot,” Walter replied.
Devon blushed at the word, at the possibility that was the word he had been thinking. He looked to his coffee. His ears were red. Walter regretted being so abrasive. He wanted to correct it somehow.
“My mother always thought I should have been a girl. She knew I used to play with her makeup and clothing. I don’t know. It wasn’t like I wanted to be a woman. It was just different. I remember that I didn’t really care about gender or masculinity. I used to watch her putting on her makeup and it always interested me how she transformed with it. I thought it was neat the way her lips looked."
“Can I ask you something?”
Walter raised his eyebrows in expectation.
“Does it hurt?”
Walter rolled his eyes.
“You shouldn’t worry about that. It’s not about sexual acts. It’s about love.”
Chester sat up, took a sip from his coffee.
“Shouldn’t you be recording this?”
Chester shook his head.
“There is no project is there?”
If his effeminate demeanor was a threat to those jock boys, then it was also a signal to others like himself. It wasn’t some act or something fake. It was some unconscious expression that mixed gender expectations. He knew many people were annoyed, even offended by it, and yet he had no other choice but to be himself.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Ch 37 - How It Happened
This post contains descriptions of an abusive relationship between gay men. Unfortunately there are not many resources out there for gay men in abusive relationships but if you are in one please seek support.
The apartment was in almost complete darkness, except for the display on the microwave, the few other digital clocks, and the glow of power indicators as Spencer lay flat on his back on the living room floor with headphones over his ears listening to a third podcast. It was a the tranquility he needed after his long day at work.
He had contemplated smoking a joint, masturbating, and reading a book before he turned off his computer and phone, took the two items nearest to him, and got down onto the soft carpet. It was a foolish, impractical thing to do but it reminded him of his first apartment when he had no furniture. It reminded him of when he was young an he did things like that just for the experience.
His tranquility was broken when he heard the front door open. There was no doubt it was Josh. He thought to sit up, get his things, and pretend to be busy but he felt the inertia of being relaxed and decided to not move, hope that Josh didn’t see him. He listened to his roommate enter the apartment, then head straight back to his room.
When Josh’s door didn’t close he worried that the man would be back out towards the living room where he’d be found, or worse where he’d scare him. Spencer sat up and looked for some light, some indication of what his roommate was doing but there was none. He took the headphones off one ear and listened.
Josh opened a drawer, closed it, and headed to the bathroom. Spencer heard the shower start so he decided to lay back down, put his headphones back on properly. He closed his eyes, tried to refocus on the podcast but it was no good so he paused it. The sound of the water in the shower was muffled but he listened for it to stop.
Fifteen minutes later it did. He sat up enough to see the bathroom light as Josh opened the door but then it was off and he waited. He wanted Josh to go back to his room so he could go back to his peace and quiet, but he didn’t. Josh moved to the kitchen where he turned on the light. Spencer felt more foolish so he got up from the floor and moved to the couch and sat with his headphones and MP3 player in his lap.
“Hey Josh, I’m in the living room. I didn’t want you to be scared or anything.”
“Okay,” Josh replied.
It was unemotional, unworried. Spencer looked to his laptop and thought about turning it back on but didn’t because he didn’t want to see anymore emails or posts. He listened as Josh made himself a snack, then walk to the doorway.
“What are you doing in here in the dark?”
Spencer rolled his eyes only to realize his motion couldn’t be seen as he was sitting in a shadow. Josh on the other hand was a silhouette in the archway, a handsome silhouette.
“I was just trying to relax,” Spencer said.
“Oh, okay,” Josh said. He shifted on his feet and began to turn away before he refocused on the living room where Spencer sat in the partial darkness.
“Are you busy?”
“Nope,” Spencer said. He felt the headphones in his hands and wished he had said something else, wished he had said the truth. He wanted his own personal time, his own personal space.
“Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Spencer said.
Josh moved from the entrance of the room across the floor and to the other end of the couch where he sat. He was fresh from the shower and there was an odor of soap and melon coming from him. Spencer liked the smell. He wanted to be closer to it. He wanted to taste it.
“I uh, need to talk to someone,” Josh said.
It wasn’t what Spencer had thought would happen but it felt momentous so he stopped himself from thinking further and focused his thought and his energy on Josh. He could barely make out the man’s form and yet there was some comfort in not being able to really see each other.
“Something came up the other day in the support group and it just brought up all of these feelings about Paul and our relationship. I thought about saying something to the group but it just felt so weird. It was like this thing that was stuck in my throat and I couldn’t say it but I also couldn’t forget it. I thought about saying something to Triston but he’s been really busy with Vincent and I thought about one of the other guys or one of my friends but I feel like they don’t really know me.
“I know we had our argument and it’s been kind of weird living here. I know you liked living alone and everything, but I don’t know, it’s been kind of nice being here. Then I think about Paul and it’s like I’ve been in denial or something. I mean I know it happened and I know it was wrong but I just didn’t want to think about it. When I speak about it it’s kind of all the things I’m supposed to say, the minimal things, but it just has been building in me. It feels like this knot in my stomach.
“Sometimes I just want to blurt it out at the most inappropriate times, you know, it’s like this thing that people don’t know about me and sometimes I think they should, but really I know they shouldn’t. And it’s like any little thing sets me off, or at least feels like it. The other day at work this guy kept talking about his ‘wife beater’ and it was getting to me. He just kept using the term and he was talking about his undershirt. I just wanted to grab him and...” He motioned with his hands as if he was breaking something in half. “I know it seems so stupid but it just was bothering me. I mean it’s like everyone there has this expectation of who I am and what I’ve been through but they don’t really know. They don’t know much of anything about me.”
When Josh stopped speaking Spencer sat up a little, the headphones suddenly felt heavy in his hands so he put them on the coffee table along with the MP3 player, but then they were empty and his hands themselves felt heavy.
“Maybe I shouldn’t even tell you,” Josh said.
A breath, a heartbeat, Spencer was caught off guard by the comment but forced himself to speak. He knew those words that had to be said.
“No, it’s okay,” he replied. “Really, I’m here for you. I mean I’m not the best with knowing when to do things like hold your hand or hug you but I’m here. I’ll listen.”
Josh shifted in his seat and for a moment Spencer worried he’d leave, but he didn’t. Instead Josh sat back, further into the darkness until they could barely see each other. Each knew the other person was there, as if they could feel each other in shadow, but they couldn’t really see each other.
“I want to tell you about being with Paul,” Josh said.
“Okay,” Spencer replied.
“The first time it happened we were arguing and I said something really mean to him so he slapped me. I just kind of thought it was a normal thing, you know, like couples on TV slap each other. But then, the next time it was kind of different. It was like this punishment when he wrestled me to the ground. He’s strong but he’s also trained for all these years. At first it kind of felt like we were equals and I could overpower him, so it felt like a regular fight, you know, but then I was on the ground and I just knew something was wrong.
“It became more of a punishment after that. Not really a punishment, but some act of sadism. He had this way of grabbing me by the shoulders and pushing his fingernails into my skin, more than his fingernails, his fingers. He’d come up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. He’d do it if there was something he felt I had done wrong, you know, like he’d caught me so he had to punish me, but then it felt like he’d just do it to torture me. He said he thought I liked it.
“At first I thought it was easier just to go along, let him do whatever, and then we could move on with life. He wasn’t always sadistic. But then, I don’t know, I just felt like I had to get away from him, but I just felt so foolish. I mean here I am, a muscled, strong gay man in a relationship with someone older than me and I’m afraid of him. It was like I didn’t know what would set him off and it felt like if I resisted, if I challenged him, it was all of the excuse he needed.
“He could go to such dark, scary places. It was like he went into this state and he just took it so far. He’d make these jokes and the comments about suicide, or like when there was a news story about someone who murdered their husband or wife. It was subtle but they stuck with me. They were like these barbs or these tiny, little cuts. And I started to worry about if I really made him angry, if I really gave him reason to do it.
“It felt like I was underwater, but like he was my only way out. I thought about going to someone like a friend but I didn’t think there was anything they could do for me. Most of the people I knew, especially people at work or like friends, weren’t really relationships you know. When I met Triston it felt like I was at the bottom. I didn’t think about leaving Paul anymore. I thought about murdering him.”
Spencer shifted in his seat. He felt the sincerity and the weight of what he was being told and it felt like this special moment between them.
“No really, I thought about it. I thought about how to get past his fighting abilities and do it. I thought about using a knife or a weapon. I thought about poisoning him. I was so angry all of the time. I just wanted it to be over.
“That’s when I met Triston at the shop. He was just so engaging and interesting. I talked with him for hours at different times. I think he kind of knew what was going on but he didn’t say anything. He just kind of was there for me. Then, one day he just gives me this big hug. It was exactly what I needed. I didn’t want to let go because if I did I would have to go back home to Paul. I started crying and he just sat with me. I thought this is it. This is my break. I told him as much as I could and he just listened to me, then when I was done he told me I had to leave. I said I couldn’t, but he said he knew some people. He said he would help me escape and he did.
“I know I can’t go back to him but it’s like I still want this feeling of closure. I want to be able to yell at him. I want to be able to punish him or just hit him. I want to know that if I see him again we’d be like strangers and that he won’t bother me. I mean I know he loved me. He used to tell me all of the time and he’d get me gifts but it’s like a dangerous love. I hate knowing that he’s still out there. I hate thinking of him being alone, but it’s like I can’t do it. I can’t be his punching bag or some toy he breaks. I want to move on with my life.”
Spencer slowly reached across the couch to Josh until his fingers touched the man's forearm. He felt over the hair there for a moment until he maneuvered around to the man's hand where he gently took hold, laced their fingers together. It was a comfort they both needed.
The apartment was in almost complete darkness, except for the display on the microwave, the few other digital clocks, and the glow of power indicators as Spencer lay flat on his back on the living room floor with headphones over his ears listening to a third podcast. It was a the tranquility he needed after his long day at work.
He had contemplated smoking a joint, masturbating, and reading a book before he turned off his computer and phone, took the two items nearest to him, and got down onto the soft carpet. It was a foolish, impractical thing to do but it reminded him of his first apartment when he had no furniture. It reminded him of when he was young an he did things like that just for the experience.
His tranquility was broken when he heard the front door open. There was no doubt it was Josh. He thought to sit up, get his things, and pretend to be busy but he felt the inertia of being relaxed and decided to not move, hope that Josh didn’t see him. He listened to his roommate enter the apartment, then head straight back to his room.
When Josh’s door didn’t close he worried that the man would be back out towards the living room where he’d be found, or worse where he’d scare him. Spencer sat up and looked for some light, some indication of what his roommate was doing but there was none. He took the headphones off one ear and listened.
Josh opened a drawer, closed it, and headed to the bathroom. Spencer heard the shower start so he decided to lay back down, put his headphones back on properly. He closed his eyes, tried to refocus on the podcast but it was no good so he paused it. The sound of the water in the shower was muffled but he listened for it to stop.
Fifteen minutes later it did. He sat up enough to see the bathroom light as Josh opened the door but then it was off and he waited. He wanted Josh to go back to his room so he could go back to his peace and quiet, but he didn’t. Josh moved to the kitchen where he turned on the light. Spencer felt more foolish so he got up from the floor and moved to the couch and sat with his headphones and MP3 player in his lap.
“Hey Josh, I’m in the living room. I didn’t want you to be scared or anything.”
“Okay,” Josh replied.
It was unemotional, unworried. Spencer looked to his laptop and thought about turning it back on but didn’t because he didn’t want to see anymore emails or posts. He listened as Josh made himself a snack, then walk to the doorway.
“What are you doing in here in the dark?”
Spencer rolled his eyes only to realize his motion couldn’t be seen as he was sitting in a shadow. Josh on the other hand was a silhouette in the archway, a handsome silhouette.
“I was just trying to relax,” Spencer said.
“Oh, okay,” Josh said. He shifted on his feet and began to turn away before he refocused on the living room where Spencer sat in the partial darkness.
“Are you busy?”
“Nope,” Spencer said. He felt the headphones in his hands and wished he had said something else, wished he had said the truth. He wanted his own personal time, his own personal space.
“Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Spencer said.
Josh moved from the entrance of the room across the floor and to the other end of the couch where he sat. He was fresh from the shower and there was an odor of soap and melon coming from him. Spencer liked the smell. He wanted to be closer to it. He wanted to taste it.
“I uh, need to talk to someone,” Josh said.
It wasn’t what Spencer had thought would happen but it felt momentous so he stopped himself from thinking further and focused his thought and his energy on Josh. He could barely make out the man’s form and yet there was some comfort in not being able to really see each other.
“Something came up the other day in the support group and it just brought up all of these feelings about Paul and our relationship. I thought about saying something to the group but it just felt so weird. It was like this thing that was stuck in my throat and I couldn’t say it but I also couldn’t forget it. I thought about saying something to Triston but he’s been really busy with Vincent and I thought about one of the other guys or one of my friends but I feel like they don’t really know me.
“I know we had our argument and it’s been kind of weird living here. I know you liked living alone and everything, but I don’t know, it’s been kind of nice being here. Then I think about Paul and it’s like I’ve been in denial or something. I mean I know it happened and I know it was wrong but I just didn’t want to think about it. When I speak about it it’s kind of all the things I’m supposed to say, the minimal things, but it just has been building in me. It feels like this knot in my stomach.
“Sometimes I just want to blurt it out at the most inappropriate times, you know, it’s like this thing that people don’t know about me and sometimes I think they should, but really I know they shouldn’t. And it’s like any little thing sets me off, or at least feels like it. The other day at work this guy kept talking about his ‘wife beater’ and it was getting to me. He just kept using the term and he was talking about his undershirt. I just wanted to grab him and...” He motioned with his hands as if he was breaking something in half. “I know it seems so stupid but it just was bothering me. I mean it’s like everyone there has this expectation of who I am and what I’ve been through but they don’t really know. They don’t know much of anything about me.”
When Josh stopped speaking Spencer sat up a little, the headphones suddenly felt heavy in his hands so he put them on the coffee table along with the MP3 player, but then they were empty and his hands themselves felt heavy.
“Maybe I shouldn’t even tell you,” Josh said.
A breath, a heartbeat, Spencer was caught off guard by the comment but forced himself to speak. He knew those words that had to be said.
“No, it’s okay,” he replied. “Really, I’m here for you. I mean I’m not the best with knowing when to do things like hold your hand or hug you but I’m here. I’ll listen.”
Josh shifted in his seat and for a moment Spencer worried he’d leave, but he didn’t. Instead Josh sat back, further into the darkness until they could barely see each other. Each knew the other person was there, as if they could feel each other in shadow, but they couldn’t really see each other.
“I want to tell you about being with Paul,” Josh said.
“Okay,” Spencer replied.
“The first time it happened we were arguing and I said something really mean to him so he slapped me. I just kind of thought it was a normal thing, you know, like couples on TV slap each other. But then, the next time it was kind of different. It was like this punishment when he wrestled me to the ground. He’s strong but he’s also trained for all these years. At first it kind of felt like we were equals and I could overpower him, so it felt like a regular fight, you know, but then I was on the ground and I just knew something was wrong.
“It became more of a punishment after that. Not really a punishment, but some act of sadism. He had this way of grabbing me by the shoulders and pushing his fingernails into my skin, more than his fingernails, his fingers. He’d come up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. He’d do it if there was something he felt I had done wrong, you know, like he’d caught me so he had to punish me, but then it felt like he’d just do it to torture me. He said he thought I liked it.
“At first I thought it was easier just to go along, let him do whatever, and then we could move on with life. He wasn’t always sadistic. But then, I don’t know, I just felt like I had to get away from him, but I just felt so foolish. I mean here I am, a muscled, strong gay man in a relationship with someone older than me and I’m afraid of him. It was like I didn’t know what would set him off and it felt like if I resisted, if I challenged him, it was all of the excuse he needed.
“He could go to such dark, scary places. It was like he went into this state and he just took it so far. He’d make these jokes and the comments about suicide, or like when there was a news story about someone who murdered their husband or wife. It was subtle but they stuck with me. They were like these barbs or these tiny, little cuts. And I started to worry about if I really made him angry, if I really gave him reason to do it.
“It felt like I was underwater, but like he was my only way out. I thought about going to someone like a friend but I didn’t think there was anything they could do for me. Most of the people I knew, especially people at work or like friends, weren’t really relationships you know. When I met Triston it felt like I was at the bottom. I didn’t think about leaving Paul anymore. I thought about murdering him.”
Spencer shifted in his seat. He felt the sincerity and the weight of what he was being told and it felt like this special moment between them.
“No really, I thought about it. I thought about how to get past his fighting abilities and do it. I thought about using a knife or a weapon. I thought about poisoning him. I was so angry all of the time. I just wanted it to be over.
“That’s when I met Triston at the shop. He was just so engaging and interesting. I talked with him for hours at different times. I think he kind of knew what was going on but he didn’t say anything. He just kind of was there for me. Then, one day he just gives me this big hug. It was exactly what I needed. I didn’t want to let go because if I did I would have to go back home to Paul. I started crying and he just sat with me. I thought this is it. This is my break. I told him as much as I could and he just listened to me, then when I was done he told me I had to leave. I said I couldn’t, but he said he knew some people. He said he would help me escape and he did.
“I know I can’t go back to him but it’s like I still want this feeling of closure. I want to be able to yell at him. I want to be able to punish him or just hit him. I want to know that if I see him again we’d be like strangers and that he won’t bother me. I mean I know he loved me. He used to tell me all of the time and he’d get me gifts but it’s like a dangerous love. I hate knowing that he’s still out there. I hate thinking of him being alone, but it’s like I can’t do it. I can’t be his punching bag or some toy he breaks. I want to move on with my life.”
Spencer slowly reached across the couch to Josh until his fingers touched the man's forearm. He felt over the hair there for a moment until he maneuvered around to the man's hand where he gently took hold, laced their fingers together. It was a comfort they both needed.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Ch 36 - In the Army
The room fell quiet as Walter, Bobby, Spencer, Triston, Darrell, and Josh took their seats around Spencer’s dinner table with boxes of Thai food spread between them. There was more than enough for them to eat. Each began to look over the dishes, take some, and pass it.
“I think I’m going to have to break up with Aden,” Spencer said.
“What? He’s so cute,” Walter said.
“Cute maybe, but he’s not that smart.”
“But he looks good naked,” Josh added.
“You saw him naked? What was it like?” Bobby asked.
“Thin and a little to the left,” Josh said.
“When did you see him naked?” Darrell asked.
“He slept over, didn’t know I had a roommate and they kind of ran into each other in the morning,” Spencer said.
“I hope not,” Bobby replied.
“He seemed like a nice guy,” Josh said.
“Not really,” Spencer replied, “he borrowed forty dollars from me a week ago and he hasn’t said a thing to me about it since. I saw him in person, we talked on the phone, and we even sent text messages.”
“Why did you give him forty dollars?” Triston asked.
“We were out shopping and he saw this shirt he really liked.”
“That was a gift,” Bobby said. “Guys buy things for me all of the time.”
“Really?” Walter asked.
“Well, okay, sometimes, but still it’s a gift.”
“This wasn’t a gift. I specifically told him it was a loan.”
“Maybe he hasn’t gotten paid yet,” Darrell suggested.
“Whatever the case it’s kind of annoying. It’s only been a week but he’s had money for lots of other stuff. In fact he even told me two days later he bought new shoes.”
“Don’t let him take advantage of you,” Walter said. “You should have him pay for something and then it would be even.”
Spencer looked down to his plate of food and shook his head. He wasn’t the type to try and pull something like that. He’d confront him maybe, but con it out of him, no way.
“Well, you don’t want to be known as a Sugar Daddy. You’re too cute for that,” Bobby said.
“Thanks, I guess. Speaking of Sugar Daddy’s, we haven’t heard about Triston and Vincent in Las Vegas. How was it?”
“It was nice,” Triston said.
“Did you ever leave the room?” Walter asked.
“Yeah, we did. We even spent some time by the pool. I was all worried about going there as a couple and I definitely had my moments of insecurity but it was nice to travel with someone. We didn’t really hold hands or anything in public, though we went to a few gay spots in the Fruit Loop. It was nice to know that we’d go back to the room together though and we could just relax.”
“Was it crowded?”
“Not really, but it there were people around. There were lots of advertisements for female strip shows and private escorts, that type of thing.”
“How much did you lose?”
“I actually didn’t gamble that much. That was more Vincent, and he actually won some money, but it wasn’t much compared to how much we spent on liquor and food. We did meet a very nice gay boy though. It was kind of funny. Vincent was at the bar and this middle aged, middle America woman came up to me and asked to use his chair. I said it was for my boyfriend.”
Everyone oohed at his boldness.
“That’s when she drops this bomb on me that her son just came out. She just told me he was gay. It was like this casual conversation. She was kind of proud I think. I was stunned, but then when the son got there she introduced us.”
“Was he hot?”
“Very, but shy, at least in front of his parents. It was kind of cute. He’s in the army and he took his family to Vegas while he was on leave. He had this whole army boy thing going for him.”
“Did you have a three way?” Walter asked.
Everyone looked to him.
“I’m just asking what everyone is thinking.”
“No,” Triston said with a shake of his head. “We went out though. He got a little too drunk at the bar. He was kind of a light weight but we got him back. The whole time in the elevator I was praying for him not to throw up. Thankfully he had his own room though.”
“Man that would have been awkward.”
“I ran into him the next day at the lunch buffet they had. We talked a little bit and we promised to stay in touch with each other. He wants to come to D.C. when his contract is up. He says there’s more jobs here.”
“I think I’m going to have to break up with Aden,” Spencer said.
“What? He’s so cute,” Walter said.
“Cute maybe, but he’s not that smart.”
“But he looks good naked,” Josh added.
“You saw him naked? What was it like?” Bobby asked.
“Thin and a little to the left,” Josh said.
“When did you see him naked?” Darrell asked.
“He slept over, didn’t know I had a roommate and they kind of ran into each other in the morning,” Spencer said.
“I hope not,” Bobby replied.
“He seemed like a nice guy,” Josh said.
“Not really,” Spencer replied, “he borrowed forty dollars from me a week ago and he hasn’t said a thing to me about it since. I saw him in person, we talked on the phone, and we even sent text messages.”
“Why did you give him forty dollars?” Triston asked.
“We were out shopping and he saw this shirt he really liked.”
“That was a gift,” Bobby said. “Guys buy things for me all of the time.”
“Really?” Walter asked.
“Well, okay, sometimes, but still it’s a gift.”
“This wasn’t a gift. I specifically told him it was a loan.”
“Maybe he hasn’t gotten paid yet,” Darrell suggested.
“Whatever the case it’s kind of annoying. It’s only been a week but he’s had money for lots of other stuff. In fact he even told me two days later he bought new shoes.”
“Don’t let him take advantage of you,” Walter said. “You should have him pay for something and then it would be even.”
Spencer looked down to his plate of food and shook his head. He wasn’t the type to try and pull something like that. He’d confront him maybe, but con it out of him, no way.
“Well, you don’t want to be known as a Sugar Daddy. You’re too cute for that,” Bobby said.
“Thanks, I guess. Speaking of Sugar Daddy’s, we haven’t heard about Triston and Vincent in Las Vegas. How was it?”
“It was nice,” Triston said.
“Did you ever leave the room?” Walter asked.
“Yeah, we did. We even spent some time by the pool. I was all worried about going there as a couple and I definitely had my moments of insecurity but it was nice to travel with someone. We didn’t really hold hands or anything in public, though we went to a few gay spots in the Fruit Loop. It was nice to know that we’d go back to the room together though and we could just relax.”
“Was it crowded?”
“Not really, but it there were people around. There were lots of advertisements for female strip shows and private escorts, that type of thing.”
“How much did you lose?”
“I actually didn’t gamble that much. That was more Vincent, and he actually won some money, but it wasn’t much compared to how much we spent on liquor and food. We did meet a very nice gay boy though. It was kind of funny. Vincent was at the bar and this middle aged, middle America woman came up to me and asked to use his chair. I said it was for my boyfriend.”
Everyone oohed at his boldness.
“That’s when she drops this bomb on me that her son just came out. She just told me he was gay. It was like this casual conversation. She was kind of proud I think. I was stunned, but then when the son got there she introduced us.”
“Was he hot?”
“Very, but shy, at least in front of his parents. It was kind of cute. He’s in the army and he took his family to Vegas while he was on leave. He had this whole army boy thing going for him.”
“Did you have a three way?” Walter asked.
Everyone looked to him.
“I’m just asking what everyone is thinking.”
“No,” Triston said with a shake of his head. “We went out though. He got a little too drunk at the bar. He was kind of a light weight but we got him back. The whole time in the elevator I was praying for him not to throw up. Thankfully he had his own room though.”
“Man that would have been awkward.”
“I ran into him the next day at the lunch buffet they had. We talked a little bit and we promised to stay in touch with each other. He wants to come to D.C. when his contract is up. He says there’s more jobs here.”
Monday, June 16, 2014
Ch 35 - Vegas
A cup of tea in his hand Triston walked the store fixing items, picking up dirt, and anything else he could think to distract himself. It was four hours until his flight out of D.C. to Las Vegas and he was worried. He had passed Cheryl for the third time when she caught his eye.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
He stopped in the doorway of the office, turned his head. He had never been one to hide his feelings. He had always been open and shared too much. That’s why he couldn’t work anywhere else, but somehow this felt different. He felt a shame unlike any other. She continued to stare at him until he felt drawn into her confidence.
“I need to talk,” he said.
“Come in and have a seat.”
“I’m just, it’s this vacation. I’m having some anxiety. I’m worried.”
“Because of the relationship?”
Triston shook his head.
“Because of Vincent’s health?”
Triston shook his head.
“Well, you’re going to have to help me honey because I can’t think of anything else.”
“I’m worried about traveling with him. It’s one thing to be gay. It’s another to be a gay couple, and it’s even more when you go out in public, especially places where you don’t know how people will react. It’s one thing around here in D.C. but out there...”
“Things are changing,” she said.
“Not fast enough to keep me safe. I mean it’s like there are places where you know what you can and can’t do. Bars, certain restaurants, and even certain streets it’s like there’s this safe place but I’ve never traveled with a boyfriend. I mean I’m not much on PDA but still, just one look and it’s just the excuse someone needs.”
“It’s not going to be that bad,” she said. “You’ll figure it out. What would be different than being here?”
“D.C. is just such a progressive place. I mean I know when I leave the city limits. I know when I’m out of my element. And I don’t want to just act like we’re friends. I don’t want to act like we’re just two guys hanging out. I’m a proud gay man. I’ve marched. I’ve come out to anyone who showed interest and some people who didn’t.”
“Have you looked up Las Vegas? Have you done some research?”
“Not really,” Triston said. “It was Vincent’s idea and I guess I just thought he’d do all the planning. He talks about it with this kind of excitement.”
“I’m going to send you some links. When I was there I saw a drag show and a production of Naked Boys Singing that was a lot of fun.”
“Really?”
“You haven’t done your homework. Wait a minute.”
Cheryl turned to her computer, pulled up her email, and began to work on a list. Triston watched her for a moment and smiled to himself. He really hadn’t thought about it.
*****
Twenty-four hours later, Vincent and Triston were poolside at their hotel, side by side in matching swimming briefs, covered from head to toe in sun-tan lotion, and wearing sunglasses. The backs of their hands comfortably rested against each other, some subtle connection that could have been an accident.
The only other person was an old woman who sat on the opposite side of the pool looking away from them with a cigarette in one hand and a book in the other. It was comfortable, sunny day.
Triston had his eyes closed when he felt Vincent move, his hand was gone. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Vincent putting on a robe.
“I’m going for a drink. Do you want something?”
“Maybe I should dry out,” Triston said.
“This is Vegas. I’ll get you what you had before.”
“Thanks,” Triston said.
He closed his eyes and raised his chin again into the sun. He listened to Vincent pad across the concrete to the bar where a lonely server sat transfixed with his cell phone. For once he felt comfortable, until he heard someone approaching who wasn’t Vincent. He opened his eyes to see a middle aged woman at the foot of his chair.
“Is that chair taken?”
“Uh yeah,” Triston said.
He looked to the woman and he suddenly felt uncomfortable because she was so much like his mother. She wasn’t dressed for the pool but her clothes were loose and open.
“We’re just trying to get some chairs together for the family,” she said.
Maybe it was the mention of family, maybe it was the presumption of them being heterosexual, maybe it was all that fear he had felt all of his life, and maybe it was a revolt against shame but his lips began to move faster than his brain.
“Sorry,” he said, “it’s where my boyfriend was sitting. He’s over at the bar.”
She smiled at him, then looked to the bar, and back. It was a sincere smile, though he feared it would turn cruel at any moment. He forced a smile of his own.
“He’s cute,” she said. “You know my son just came out recently. He’s in the armed services so it had to have been after they got rid of that ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ policy. Don’t even get me started on that.”
Triston stopped himself from a nervous laugh.
“He’s here in town with the family but there’s a big difference in age between him and his younger brother. Well, big enough that I know he needs to get out an do adult things. He doesn’t have any friends here, maybe I should introduce you to him.”
Triston looked back to the bar where he saw Vincent walking away with a tray of drinks and snacks, but he wasn’t moving fast enough. Triston wanted rescued from this situation, but he looked back to the woman who moved to him and offered her hand. They shook.
“I’m Maggie,” she said.
“Triston,” he replied.
“When he gets here do you mind if I send him over to say hello?”
“No, not at all,” Triston said.
She walked away and moments later Vincent arrived. He placed the tray on the small table between them, scratched at himself.
“What was that about?”
“She wants us to meet her son. He just came out as gay and he’s here for the weekend but he doesn’t have any friends, and he’s in the armed services.”
“Is he cute?” Vincent asked.
“You know, that didn’t come up,” Triston answered.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
He stopped in the doorway of the office, turned his head. He had never been one to hide his feelings. He had always been open and shared too much. That’s why he couldn’t work anywhere else, but somehow this felt different. He felt a shame unlike any other. She continued to stare at him until he felt drawn into her confidence.
“I need to talk,” he said.
“Come in and have a seat.”
“I’m just, it’s this vacation. I’m having some anxiety. I’m worried.”
“Because of the relationship?”
Triston shook his head.
“Because of Vincent’s health?”
Triston shook his head.
“Well, you’re going to have to help me honey because I can’t think of anything else.”
“I’m worried about traveling with him. It’s one thing to be gay. It’s another to be a gay couple, and it’s even more when you go out in public, especially places where you don’t know how people will react. It’s one thing around here in D.C. but out there...”
“Things are changing,” she said.
“Not fast enough to keep me safe. I mean it’s like there are places where you know what you can and can’t do. Bars, certain restaurants, and even certain streets it’s like there’s this safe place but I’ve never traveled with a boyfriend. I mean I’m not much on PDA but still, just one look and it’s just the excuse someone needs.”
“It’s not going to be that bad,” she said. “You’ll figure it out. What would be different than being here?”
“D.C. is just such a progressive place. I mean I know when I leave the city limits. I know when I’m out of my element. And I don’t want to just act like we’re friends. I don’t want to act like we’re just two guys hanging out. I’m a proud gay man. I’ve marched. I’ve come out to anyone who showed interest and some people who didn’t.”
“Have you looked up Las Vegas? Have you done some research?”
“Not really,” Triston said. “It was Vincent’s idea and I guess I just thought he’d do all the planning. He talks about it with this kind of excitement.”
“I’m going to send you some links. When I was there I saw a drag show and a production of Naked Boys Singing that was a lot of fun.”
“Really?”
“You haven’t done your homework. Wait a minute.”
Cheryl turned to her computer, pulled up her email, and began to work on a list. Triston watched her for a moment and smiled to himself. He really hadn’t thought about it.
*****
Twenty-four hours later, Vincent and Triston were poolside at their hotel, side by side in matching swimming briefs, covered from head to toe in sun-tan lotion, and wearing sunglasses. The backs of their hands comfortably rested against each other, some subtle connection that could have been an accident.
The only other person was an old woman who sat on the opposite side of the pool looking away from them with a cigarette in one hand and a book in the other. It was comfortable, sunny day.
Triston had his eyes closed when he felt Vincent move, his hand was gone. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Vincent putting on a robe.
“I’m going for a drink. Do you want something?”
“Maybe I should dry out,” Triston said.
“This is Vegas. I’ll get you what you had before.”
“Thanks,” Triston said.
He closed his eyes and raised his chin again into the sun. He listened to Vincent pad across the concrete to the bar where a lonely server sat transfixed with his cell phone. For once he felt comfortable, until he heard someone approaching who wasn’t Vincent. He opened his eyes to see a middle aged woman at the foot of his chair.
“Is that chair taken?”
“Uh yeah,” Triston said.
He looked to the woman and he suddenly felt uncomfortable because she was so much like his mother. She wasn’t dressed for the pool but her clothes were loose and open.
“We’re just trying to get some chairs together for the family,” she said.
Maybe it was the mention of family, maybe it was the presumption of them being heterosexual, maybe it was all that fear he had felt all of his life, and maybe it was a revolt against shame but his lips began to move faster than his brain.
“Sorry,” he said, “it’s where my boyfriend was sitting. He’s over at the bar.”
She smiled at him, then looked to the bar, and back. It was a sincere smile, though he feared it would turn cruel at any moment. He forced a smile of his own.
“He’s cute,” she said. “You know my son just came out recently. He’s in the armed services so it had to have been after they got rid of that ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ policy. Don’t even get me started on that.”
Triston stopped himself from a nervous laugh.
“He’s here in town with the family but there’s a big difference in age between him and his younger brother. Well, big enough that I know he needs to get out an do adult things. He doesn’t have any friends here, maybe I should introduce you to him.”
Triston looked back to the bar where he saw Vincent walking away with a tray of drinks and snacks, but he wasn’t moving fast enough. Triston wanted rescued from this situation, but he looked back to the woman who moved to him and offered her hand. They shook.
“I’m Maggie,” she said.
“Triston,” he replied.
“When he gets here do you mind if I send him over to say hello?”
“No, not at all,” Triston said.
She walked away and moments later Vincent arrived. He placed the tray on the small table between them, scratched at himself.
“What was that about?”
“She wants us to meet her son. He just came out as gay and he’s here for the weekend but he doesn’t have any friends, and he’s in the armed services.”
“Is he cute?” Vincent asked.
“You know, that didn’t come up,” Triston answered.
Monday, June 9, 2014
Ch 34 Early Bird
“Oh, hi there.”
The surprised, familiar voice woke Spencer from his morning sleep. It had been distant, barely audible. He was face down in his bed, dressed in boxer shorts and an undershirt, no sheet covering him, which was unusual, because he always slept with at least a thin sheet. He flexed his hand to bring about more circulation as he shifted from one shoulder to the other.
“Hi, I’m Josh.”
“Hi, I’m Aden.”
Spencer groaned at hearing the two men introduce themselves to each other, and at such at an early time, when it was obvious why Aden was still there. Spencer grabbed hold of his scalp and began to massage it. He could barely open his eyes. He felt too tired to deal with anything. He rolled onto his back to listen for further conversation but he couldn’t hear it. Were they whispering? Did they think he was asleep or because they didn’t want him to hear?
He thought about getting up out of bed but the idea of finding them in the kitchen wasn’t something he liked so he waited. It wasn’t long before his bedroom door opened and in walked Aden, completely naked and carrying a bowl of cereal. He closed the door and moved to the foot of the bed where he ate a spoonful and looked down at Spencer who looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.
“Your roommate seems like a nice guy. He let me have some cereal. I don’t usually do carbs in the morning but after last night I’m starved. Do you want some?”
“No, I’m fine,” Spencer said before sitting up in bed. Even though the answer was obvious Spencer felt like asking the question, “Were you out there naked?”
“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a roommate,” Aden said.
“He’s more like a guest. Though he does pay rent, but it’s more like a temporary thing I guess. It’s a long story.”
“No problem, he’s cute.”
Spencer thought about Josh in the early mornings, sometimes he walked around in a pair of boxers and once a pair of briefs. He smiled at the thought.
“What?”
“Nothing, just get back in bed,” Spencer said.
Aden put another spoonful in his mouth before setting the bowl down and walking to the bed where he got in on his knees, moved to Spencer. They kissed. They groped. But then Spencer had second thoughts.
“My roommate,” he said.
“Don’t worry about,” Aden replied. “Unless you want him to join us.”
“Don’t be silly,” Spencer said. “Let’s wait until he goes jogging.”
“I can’t,” Aden said. “We’ll just be quiet.”
Spencer rolled over onto his chest, readied himself to bite into the pillow.
*****
Hours later at work Spencer checked his cell phone for messages but there were no replies from Aden. He thought about sending another text but stopped himself and put the phone in his desk drawer, then turned to his computer and tried to focus on work. It was a long day, but no messages from Aden until he was headed out of his office.
<Sorry been busy at gym. personal training with clients> - Aden
<No problem> - Spencer
<We should hang out some time. Maybe do some training or go on a date. How about tomorrow?> - Aden
Spencer looked at the message, read it through several times. Don’t get too excited, he told himself, don’t expect too much.
The surprised, familiar voice woke Spencer from his morning sleep. It had been distant, barely audible. He was face down in his bed, dressed in boxer shorts and an undershirt, no sheet covering him, which was unusual, because he always slept with at least a thin sheet. He flexed his hand to bring about more circulation as he shifted from one shoulder to the other.
“Hi, I’m Josh.”
“Hi, I’m Aden.”
Spencer groaned at hearing the two men introduce themselves to each other, and at such at an early time, when it was obvious why Aden was still there. Spencer grabbed hold of his scalp and began to massage it. He could barely open his eyes. He felt too tired to deal with anything. He rolled onto his back to listen for further conversation but he couldn’t hear it. Were they whispering? Did they think he was asleep or because they didn’t want him to hear?
He thought about getting up out of bed but the idea of finding them in the kitchen wasn’t something he liked so he waited. It wasn’t long before his bedroom door opened and in walked Aden, completely naked and carrying a bowl of cereal. He closed the door and moved to the foot of the bed where he ate a spoonful and looked down at Spencer who looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.
“Your roommate seems like a nice guy. He let me have some cereal. I don’t usually do carbs in the morning but after last night I’m starved. Do you want some?”
“No, I’m fine,” Spencer said before sitting up in bed. Even though the answer was obvious Spencer felt like asking the question, “Were you out there naked?”
“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a roommate,” Aden said.
“He’s more like a guest. Though he does pay rent, but it’s more like a temporary thing I guess. It’s a long story.”
“No problem, he’s cute.”
Spencer thought about Josh in the early mornings, sometimes he walked around in a pair of boxers and once a pair of briefs. He smiled at the thought.
“What?”
“Nothing, just get back in bed,” Spencer said.
Aden put another spoonful in his mouth before setting the bowl down and walking to the bed where he got in on his knees, moved to Spencer. They kissed. They groped. But then Spencer had second thoughts.
“My roommate,” he said.
“Don’t worry about,” Aden replied. “Unless you want him to join us.”
“Don’t be silly,” Spencer said. “Let’s wait until he goes jogging.”
“I can’t,” Aden said. “We’ll just be quiet.”
Spencer rolled over onto his chest, readied himself to bite into the pillow.
*****
Hours later at work Spencer checked his cell phone for messages but there were no replies from Aden. He thought about sending another text but stopped himself and put the phone in his desk drawer, then turned to his computer and tried to focus on work. It was a long day, but no messages from Aden until he was headed out of his office.
<Sorry been busy at gym. personal training with clients> - Aden
<No problem> - Spencer
<We should hang out some time. Maybe do some training or go on a date. How about tomorrow?> - Aden
Spencer looked at the message, read it through several times. Don’t get too excited, he told himself, don’t expect too much.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Ch 33 Johnny Law
Spencer drove. Chad was in the passenger seat with a printout of directions. The backseat of the car was full of supplies for the picnic.
“You’re wife does know you’re going to the beach with a bunch of gay guys right?”
“She encouraged it,” Chad replied.
“Who’s this guy you told me about?”
“His name is Aden. He’s a bar-back and sometimes a shot-boy like me. He’s nice.”
“Firm ass?”
Chad raised an eyebrow.
“I’m just asking. You said he had a nice body.”
“I just meant it’s weird he doesn’t like to take his shirt off is all.”
Spencer nodded but kept a serious face.
“Do you think I’m gay?”
“Bisexual,” Spencer said.
Chad sighed before looking away out the window. His body tensed.
“Hey look, I’m sorry,” Spencer said. “I was just kidding you. It’s really none of my business.”
“I know. It’s just that I used to get that sometimes, especially from the other guys on the force. They said I was light in my loafers and they used to joke about the way I sat.”
“I’m sorry, really,” Spencer replied.
Chad let out a nervous laugh before turning up the volume of the stereo. They drove the rest of the way barely speaking to each other except about directions. When they got to the lake they found that parking was easy and that several men were all ready there. The picnic was larger than either of them had believed it would be. Spencer suddenly felt bad for his friend even though didn’t seem bothered.
“Before we unpack maybe we should go say hello. Make sure we’re at the right place,” Spencer said.
“Okay,” Chad replied.
They walked from the car to the group. It was mostly made of men, but there were a few women though they seemed to easily fit into a pairs. Most of the men were shirtless, several of them had tattoos, most all of them were hairless and muscled. As Spencer and Chad approached they began to get looks as if they were trespassers and for a moment they looked to each other, but then Chad caught sight of someone and called out his name, Ron, who broke from the crowd and made his way to them.
He was handsome and effeminate, with a mischievous grin. He introduced himself to Spencer, then moved to Chad and took hold of his arm. It was a familiar touch that didn’t bother Chad though Spencer felt uncomfortable for his friend.
“I see you guys are wearing swim trunks but I don’t see any towels. Will we be going into the water today?”
“If you are,” Chad said.
“Oh honey, I don’t know if I have the stamina for it. I haven’t eaten a thing all day to keep up my form so I look good shirtless.”
“Well, I’ll only go in if you do,” Chad said.
Spencer thought for a moment he was the one being challenged but then thought about Ron as he held onto Chad’s elbow.
“Always talking me into things,” Ron said. “I will if you will. How about your friend?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Spencer said.
“For a straight boy Chad here is quite a hit down at the bar. We’re trying to get him to be a dancer at the Unicorn,” Ron said. “We even have a stage name for him.”
“What is it?” Spencer asked.
“Johnny Law,” Ron answered.
Spencer let out a little laugh and looked to Chad who blushed and smiled. He felt compelled to add to the joke even though he felt bad for his friend. He tried to ignore the impulse and think of something else but it was right there on his tongue. He had thought about it so clearly that it just needed to be said.
“Either that or Night Stick,” Spencer added.
Ron and Chad both laughed.
“You’re a funny one. Look, I know you’re a stranger here but I can introduce you to some of the boys. Do you like them rough or like them nice?”
“Actually, I was going to introduce him to Aden. I thought they’d get along.”
Ron looked to Spencer, from head to toe, then back up. He had a judgmental face and Spencer felt like a cut of beef that was being evaluated by a butcher. It wasn’t an unfamiliar evaluation, one that he had done many, many times, but there in front of Chad, at the lake, and with so many strangers, it felt awkward.
“Too bad you didn’t think about me,” Ron said.
“That’s because I want you all to myself,” Chad said.
“Oh, you’re a terrible flirt. You straight boys always leading us on like that, but it does make me feel good.” Ron let go of Chad’s arm, moved to usher them towards the crowd. “Aden and some of the boys from the bar are on the other side of this meat market.”
They followed after him through the crowd. Spencer looked around at the other guys. He noted a few with chains around their necks and piercings. If Aden was a bust then there were still others. The crowd thinned as they got closer to the beach. There were only a few men and a woman in the water who seemed to be there just to swim.
“I don’t see him,” Chad said.
Spencer felt defeated for a moment. There was no treasure at the end of the trail. He thought about going back for a beer when Ron made a noise.
“There he is in the water. Yoo-hoo Aden, over here,” he called out.
Spencer looked to Ron, then looked out into the lake where he saw a head just above the water. The man was handsome, if only by his head, which began to move closer. Spencer watched as broad shoulders, muscled arms, flat pectorals, a defined abdomen, a narrow waist, a small swimsuit, a swimmer’s brief, strong thighs, and finally two bare feet emerged from the water. For someone who is supposed to be shy he doesn’t seem to swim in much, he thought.
“Come here Aden we want you to meet someone,” Ron said.
Spencer felt as if his own body fell to the ground and he was just a head floating there, a head and a heart. Aden got closer. Spencer felt his body as if it were slowly rebuilding itself until he had to accept that it was the same, familiar form it had always been, and not one he felt comfortable showing, but he held out his hand anyway, and Aden took it.
Despite having been swimming it was remarkably firm and warm. Spencer felt the hairs on his arm and the back of his neck raise up. It felt as if a current had traveled through his body.
“I’m Aden.”
When Spencer didn’t speak Chad spoke up for him.
“This is Spencer. He’s not normally this quiet,” he said.
“You’re wife does know you’re going to the beach with a bunch of gay guys right?”
“She encouraged it,” Chad replied.
“Who’s this guy you told me about?”
“His name is Aden. He’s a bar-back and sometimes a shot-boy like me. He’s nice.”
“Firm ass?”
Chad raised an eyebrow.
“I’m just asking. You said he had a nice body.”
“I just meant it’s weird he doesn’t like to take his shirt off is all.”
Spencer nodded but kept a serious face.
“Do you think I’m gay?”
“Bisexual,” Spencer said.
Chad sighed before looking away out the window. His body tensed.
“Hey look, I’m sorry,” Spencer said. “I was just kidding you. It’s really none of my business.”
“I know. It’s just that I used to get that sometimes, especially from the other guys on the force. They said I was light in my loafers and they used to joke about the way I sat.”
“I’m sorry, really,” Spencer replied.
Chad let out a nervous laugh before turning up the volume of the stereo. They drove the rest of the way barely speaking to each other except about directions. When they got to the lake they found that parking was easy and that several men were all ready there. The picnic was larger than either of them had believed it would be. Spencer suddenly felt bad for his friend even though didn’t seem bothered.
“Before we unpack maybe we should go say hello. Make sure we’re at the right place,” Spencer said.
“Okay,” Chad replied.
They walked from the car to the group. It was mostly made of men, but there were a few women though they seemed to easily fit into a pairs. Most of the men were shirtless, several of them had tattoos, most all of them were hairless and muscled. As Spencer and Chad approached they began to get looks as if they were trespassers and for a moment they looked to each other, but then Chad caught sight of someone and called out his name, Ron, who broke from the crowd and made his way to them.
He was handsome and effeminate, with a mischievous grin. He introduced himself to Spencer, then moved to Chad and took hold of his arm. It was a familiar touch that didn’t bother Chad though Spencer felt uncomfortable for his friend.
“I see you guys are wearing swim trunks but I don’t see any towels. Will we be going into the water today?”
“If you are,” Chad said.
“Oh honey, I don’t know if I have the stamina for it. I haven’t eaten a thing all day to keep up my form so I look good shirtless.”
“Well, I’ll only go in if you do,” Chad said.
Spencer thought for a moment he was the one being challenged but then thought about Ron as he held onto Chad’s elbow.
“Always talking me into things,” Ron said. “I will if you will. How about your friend?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Spencer said.
“For a straight boy Chad here is quite a hit down at the bar. We’re trying to get him to be a dancer at the Unicorn,” Ron said. “We even have a stage name for him.”
“What is it?” Spencer asked.
“Johnny Law,” Ron answered.
Spencer let out a little laugh and looked to Chad who blushed and smiled. He felt compelled to add to the joke even though he felt bad for his friend. He tried to ignore the impulse and think of something else but it was right there on his tongue. He had thought about it so clearly that it just needed to be said.
“Either that or Night Stick,” Spencer added.
Ron and Chad both laughed.
“You’re a funny one. Look, I know you’re a stranger here but I can introduce you to some of the boys. Do you like them rough or like them nice?”
“Actually, I was going to introduce him to Aden. I thought they’d get along.”
Ron looked to Spencer, from head to toe, then back up. He had a judgmental face and Spencer felt like a cut of beef that was being evaluated by a butcher. It wasn’t an unfamiliar evaluation, one that he had done many, many times, but there in front of Chad, at the lake, and with so many strangers, it felt awkward.
“Too bad you didn’t think about me,” Ron said.
“That’s because I want you all to myself,” Chad said.
“Oh, you’re a terrible flirt. You straight boys always leading us on like that, but it does make me feel good.” Ron let go of Chad’s arm, moved to usher them towards the crowd. “Aden and some of the boys from the bar are on the other side of this meat market.”
They followed after him through the crowd. Spencer looked around at the other guys. He noted a few with chains around their necks and piercings. If Aden was a bust then there were still others. The crowd thinned as they got closer to the beach. There were only a few men and a woman in the water who seemed to be there just to swim.
“I don’t see him,” Chad said.
Spencer felt defeated for a moment. There was no treasure at the end of the trail. He thought about going back for a beer when Ron made a noise.
“There he is in the water. Yoo-hoo Aden, over here,” he called out.
Spencer looked to Ron, then looked out into the lake where he saw a head just above the water. The man was handsome, if only by his head, which began to move closer. Spencer watched as broad shoulders, muscled arms, flat pectorals, a defined abdomen, a narrow waist, a small swimsuit, a swimmer’s brief, strong thighs, and finally two bare feet emerged from the water. For someone who is supposed to be shy he doesn’t seem to swim in much, he thought.
“Come here Aden we want you to meet someone,” Ron said.
Spencer felt as if his own body fell to the ground and he was just a head floating there, a head and a heart. Aden got closer. Spencer felt his body as if it were slowly rebuilding itself until he had to accept that it was the same, familiar form it had always been, and not one he felt comfortable showing, but he held out his hand anyway, and Aden took it.
Despite having been swimming it was remarkably firm and warm. Spencer felt the hairs on his arm and the back of his neck raise up. It felt as if a current had traveled through his body.
“I’m Aden.”
When Spencer didn’t speak Chad spoke up for him.
“This is Spencer. He’s not normally this quiet,” he said.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Ch. 32 Vacations and Relationships
Sweating and shirtless, Triston and Josh sat next to each other in the shade of a park tree, their shorts hung loose from their thighs as they drank bottled water. There was the sound of birds, a jet passing overhead, and traffic on the road nearby.
“Thanks for jogging with me,” Josh said.
“Hey, no problem, it’s just I haven’t been out in a while.”
“You’re still in good shape,” Josh said.
Triston let out a laugh and wiped sweat from his forehead.
“Thanks I guess, it’s more about diet than exercise for me.”
“It would be easy to get some muscle tone,” Josh said.
“Settle yourself down, I just went jogging.”
“Okay, okay,” Josh said.
They both heard someone else running along the path and looked to the source. They were disappointed to see a young woman headed their way. She passed by them and they looked to each other.
“Don’t you wish that did it for you?” Josh asked.
“Not one second,” Triston said. “Do you?”
“I don’t know. I used to think about it. It’s just so much easier.”
Triston raised an eyebrow at his friend but didn’t say anything and decided to change the subject.
“How are things going?”
“Fine I guess,” Josh said. “I stopped talking to my ex. It just kind of got uncomfortable.”
“What about Spencer? How are things at the apartment?”
“Good, it’s okay. We don’t talk much. It’s not weird or anything. He kind of keeps his distance. It’s like we barely know each other. He’s a very private person. I’m thankful for being there and not having to pay him much in rent. I don’t know what I would do if things were different. He goes out with Chad a lot. I think he’s got a crush on a straight guy.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Triston said.
“I hooked up with this guy the other day.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I decided to use an old dating account of mine. He was nice but very closeted, probably some politician or wants to be one.”
“Around this city it’s all politics,” Triston said.
“What about you and Vincent?”
“He wants to go on a vacation to Las Vegas,” Triston said. “I was thinking something more Tropical but he says there are really good deals. I think we’re going to go next month.”
“That’s pretty serious for not being together very long.”
Triston shrugged his shoulders. It was true and yet he felt because of their age, because of their experience, more importantly because of what they knew they wanted out of the relationship it wasn’t such a milestone.
“We’ll see what happens.”
“Are you guys that serious?”
Triston looked off into the trees and thought about Vincent and their relationship. They had a bond unlike any other. It was like an electrical force between them. He could feel it just by being in the same room.
“I really like him,” Triston said.
“I’m not sure if I want to be in a relationship. I mean there are benefits to it but it just seems so complicated. Although it’s been nice living with someone even if we’re not getting along. It’s like he’s there. There’s someone else in the apartment. There’s someone to talk to and watch television with but you don’t have to always be there for him.”
Triston was bothered by what he heard. He wanted Josh and Spencer to get into a relationship. He thought they would be good for each other, but maybe roommates was the best to hope for.
They heard another jogger on the track but this time it was a young man. He was shirtless and muscled, a necklace bounced around his neck. They both looked to him and as he passed he looked over to them. Josh got to his feet and began to stretch with his back to the runner.
“Is he too far gone yet?”
“No, he’s taking his time. He just came to a stop.”
“I’m going to see if he’s interested, maybe he needs a shower buddy to wash his back,” Josh said.
Triston watched his friend turn and jog away. He’d give Josh a few minutes to test the waters before he followed up behind him.
“Thanks for jogging with me,” Josh said.
“Hey, no problem, it’s just I haven’t been out in a while.”
“You’re still in good shape,” Josh said.
Triston let out a laugh and wiped sweat from his forehead.
“Thanks I guess, it’s more about diet than exercise for me.”
“It would be easy to get some muscle tone,” Josh said.
“Settle yourself down, I just went jogging.”
“Okay, okay,” Josh said.
They both heard someone else running along the path and looked to the source. They were disappointed to see a young woman headed their way. She passed by them and they looked to each other.
“Don’t you wish that did it for you?” Josh asked.
“Not one second,” Triston said. “Do you?”
“I don’t know. I used to think about it. It’s just so much easier.”
Triston raised an eyebrow at his friend but didn’t say anything and decided to change the subject.
“How are things going?”
“Fine I guess,” Josh said. “I stopped talking to my ex. It just kind of got uncomfortable.”
“What about Spencer? How are things at the apartment?”
“Good, it’s okay. We don’t talk much. It’s not weird or anything. He kind of keeps his distance. It’s like we barely know each other. He’s a very private person. I’m thankful for being there and not having to pay him much in rent. I don’t know what I would do if things were different. He goes out with Chad a lot. I think he’s got a crush on a straight guy.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Triston said.
“I hooked up with this guy the other day.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I decided to use an old dating account of mine. He was nice but very closeted, probably some politician or wants to be one.”
“Around this city it’s all politics,” Triston said.
“What about you and Vincent?”
“He wants to go on a vacation to Las Vegas,” Triston said. “I was thinking something more Tropical but he says there are really good deals. I think we’re going to go next month.”
“That’s pretty serious for not being together very long.”
Triston shrugged his shoulders. It was true and yet he felt because of their age, because of their experience, more importantly because of what they knew they wanted out of the relationship it wasn’t such a milestone.
“We’ll see what happens.”
“Are you guys that serious?”
Triston looked off into the trees and thought about Vincent and their relationship. They had a bond unlike any other. It was like an electrical force between them. He could feel it just by being in the same room.
“I really like him,” Triston said.
“I’m not sure if I want to be in a relationship. I mean there are benefits to it but it just seems so complicated. Although it’s been nice living with someone even if we’re not getting along. It’s like he’s there. There’s someone else in the apartment. There’s someone to talk to and watch television with but you don’t have to always be there for him.”
Triston was bothered by what he heard. He wanted Josh and Spencer to get into a relationship. He thought they would be good for each other, but maybe roommates was the best to hope for.
They heard another jogger on the track but this time it was a young man. He was shirtless and muscled, a necklace bounced around his neck. They both looked to him and as he passed he looked over to them. Josh got to his feet and began to stretch with his back to the runner.
“Is he too far gone yet?”
“No, he’s taking his time. He just came to a stop.”
“I’m going to see if he’s interested, maybe he needs a shower buddy to wash his back,” Josh said.
Triston watched his friend turn and jog away. He’d give Josh a few minutes to test the waters before he followed up behind him.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Ch 31 Straight Advice
Horsepower doesn’t mean anything when stuck in traffic, Spencer thought as he looked at the lights of the car ahead of him. Chad was beside him in the passenger seat.
“Thanks for coming along to try out my new car,” Spencer said. “Sorry there’s so much traffic.”
“You didn’t make it,” Chad said.
“I know. It’s just frustrating.”
“It’d be nice to take it out West though and really get a chance to drive, or maybe down Florida where that highway is like 80 mph.”
“In my dreams, around here I’d be lucky to do anything more than 60 mph with all of the traffic cameras and cops. How’s the job working out for you?” Spencer asked.
“It’s actually kind of fun,” Chad said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, there’s actually a few straight guys who work there but everyone is nice. I’m actually going to some lake with a few of the guys next weekend.”
“Really,” Spencer said.
“Yeah, they invited me along. There’s going to be a cookout. Would you want to go with me? They said I could invite someone.”
“Don’t you think that would be a little, I don’t know, confusing for them.”
“They all know I’m straight. Although there was that one time, but it was just a little bit of tongue.”
“Now you’re just messing with me.”
“Of course I am. Yes, they all know I’m straight but we get along. It’s kind of like being in college or something. Some of the guys can be a little dramatic but there’s no bullshit, you know. I mean on the force it was like all this macho crap. I mean some of those guys I wouldn’t want around my daughter and they have kids of their own but the guys at the bar are nice.”
Spencer let off the brake and drifted for a bit before stopping the car again.
“And there’s someone you should meet.”
“Is he one of those drama people?”
“No, not really, he’s kind of low key. He works the bar. I think he’s kind of shy. It’s rare that he takes his shirt off. He’s got a nice body though.”
“Checking out your workmates? Something I should know?”
“What? I’m allowed to evaluate. He’s handsome, blonde hair and blue eyes.”
“Is he crazy? Because my last boyfriend was crazy. He threatened to post our sex tape on the internet, luckily he backed off. I think he was worried about his grandmother finding out.”
“Sex tape?”
“Don’t ask,” Spencer said.
“I have to ask. Why would you?”
“It was an impulsive thing, supposed to stay private.”
“Did you ever watch it?”
“You know, actually, we didn’t. It always felt more like some secret thing.”
“How about it? I’d introduce the two of you.”
“What? The guy, I guess, I mean nothing is happening in my love life,” Spencer said.
“Did you talk to your roommate?”
“Josh? I haven’t yet. It’s kind of, I don’t know, fizzled. Sometimes Triston tells me what’s going on with him, said he’s not going back to his ex any time soon but that’s it.”
“You should do it,” Chad said.
“I don’t know. I mean it’s weird but it actually seems more difficult than coming out. It kind of feels the same. I mean it’s like this secret that if I say it I leave myself vulnerable to him. I don’t like that feeling.”
“How did you feel after you came out?”
Spencer looked to him. Coming out had been relatively easy given all of the horror stories he had heard. He told his parents one evening and they just kind of accepted it. No, not accepted, but they didn’t fight it. There was no yelling, just silence, and they didn’t really talk about it again, not in any real way. He felt silly for having thought it would be some drastic, life changing event. And yet, really, he did feel different, because he decided he didn’t need their approval.
“I felt lighter,” Spencer said.
“See, it wasn’t easy. How did feel before?”
“Like I wanted to sink into the ground.”
“I’m not saying you’re going to be best friends, or boyfriends, but you owe him a real apology. You need to tell him where you were coming from, and you need to stop thinking of him as a sex object.”
Spencer blushed at the last sentence. He gripped the wheel tighter. He was getting advice from his straight friend about another guy. He let out a small laugh and shook his head. Times really have changed, he thought.
“What is it?” Chad asked.
“I just never thought I’d be sitting here listening to a straight man give me advice about dating another guy, much less inviting me to some cookout to meet someone.”
“Just don’t try and kiss me. I’m married. It’s a monogamous relationship,” Chad said.
Spencer looked to him, his eyes went wide but Chad only smiled back.
“Thanks for coming along to try out my new car,” Spencer said. “Sorry there’s so much traffic.”
“You didn’t make it,” Chad said.
“I know. It’s just frustrating.”
“It’d be nice to take it out West though and really get a chance to drive, or maybe down Florida where that highway is like 80 mph.”
“In my dreams, around here I’d be lucky to do anything more than 60 mph with all of the traffic cameras and cops. How’s the job working out for you?” Spencer asked.
“It’s actually kind of fun,” Chad said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, there’s actually a few straight guys who work there but everyone is nice. I’m actually going to some lake with a few of the guys next weekend.”
“Really,” Spencer said.
“Yeah, they invited me along. There’s going to be a cookout. Would you want to go with me? They said I could invite someone.”
“Don’t you think that would be a little, I don’t know, confusing for them.”
“They all know I’m straight. Although there was that one time, but it was just a little bit of tongue.”
“Now you’re just messing with me.”
“Of course I am. Yes, they all know I’m straight but we get along. It’s kind of like being in college or something. Some of the guys can be a little dramatic but there’s no bullshit, you know. I mean on the force it was like all this macho crap. I mean some of those guys I wouldn’t want around my daughter and they have kids of their own but the guys at the bar are nice.”
Spencer let off the brake and drifted for a bit before stopping the car again.
“And there’s someone you should meet.”
“Is he one of those drama people?”
“No, not really, he’s kind of low key. He works the bar. I think he’s kind of shy. It’s rare that he takes his shirt off. He’s got a nice body though.”
“Checking out your workmates? Something I should know?”
“What? I’m allowed to evaluate. He’s handsome, blonde hair and blue eyes.”
“Is he crazy? Because my last boyfriend was crazy. He threatened to post our sex tape on the internet, luckily he backed off. I think he was worried about his grandmother finding out.”
“Sex tape?”
“Don’t ask,” Spencer said.
“I have to ask. Why would you?”
“It was an impulsive thing, supposed to stay private.”
“Did you ever watch it?”
“You know, actually, we didn’t. It always felt more like some secret thing.”
“How about it? I’d introduce the two of you.”
“What? The guy, I guess, I mean nothing is happening in my love life,” Spencer said.
“Did you talk to your roommate?”
“Josh? I haven’t yet. It’s kind of, I don’t know, fizzled. Sometimes Triston tells me what’s going on with him, said he’s not going back to his ex any time soon but that’s it.”
“You should do it,” Chad said.
“I don’t know. I mean it’s weird but it actually seems more difficult than coming out. It kind of feels the same. I mean it’s like this secret that if I say it I leave myself vulnerable to him. I don’t like that feeling.”
“How did you feel after you came out?”
Spencer looked to him. Coming out had been relatively easy given all of the horror stories he had heard. He told his parents one evening and they just kind of accepted it. No, not accepted, but they didn’t fight it. There was no yelling, just silence, and they didn’t really talk about it again, not in any real way. He felt silly for having thought it would be some drastic, life changing event. And yet, really, he did feel different, because he decided he didn’t need their approval.
“I felt lighter,” Spencer said.
“See, it wasn’t easy. How did feel before?”
“Like I wanted to sink into the ground.”
“I’m not saying you’re going to be best friends, or boyfriends, but you owe him a real apology. You need to tell him where you were coming from, and you need to stop thinking of him as a sex object.”
Spencer blushed at the last sentence. He gripped the wheel tighter. He was getting advice from his straight friend about another guy. He let out a small laugh and shook his head. Times really have changed, he thought.
“What is it?” Chad asked.
“I just never thought I’d be sitting here listening to a straight man give me advice about dating another guy, much less inviting me to some cookout to meet someone.”
“Just don’t try and kiss me. I’m married. It’s a monogamous relationship,” Chad said.
Spencer looked to him, his eyes went wide but Chad only smiled back.
Monday, May 19, 2014
MIA - Blog Post
Sorry, I got distracted by editing my book and other life things and haven't had a chance to write for this week's blog post. Editing will be done soon, just on Chapter 40 today, the last chapter, and then back to regular things. Ugh, so many apologies.
Monday, May 12, 2014
Ch 30 - The Agony
The ticking of the clock was like a torture device that reminded Darrell of his idleness and each passing moment that he wasn’t doing something as he sat in the recliner watching television. It was enough to make him want a tall glass of beer, maybe a few shots of whiskey because that’s how he used to pass the time. That was his former coping mechanism for everything he didn’t want to feel.
It used to be work hard Monday through Friday, start drinking Friday night, recover on Sunday by nursing his poison and then be ready for work on Monday where he’d really dry out in the first meeting of the week. He would regain his faculties, his brain would be stimulated by all of the problems and all of the solutions. Then Wednesday became like Friday and he was constantly trying to recover, no manage, from the poison he drank.
He stabbed his thumbnail into the tip of his middle finger to try and bring himself back to the present as he sat there. Walter was a few feet away quietly eating a bowl of cereal. He felt like a burden to all of them. He felt like his father had been to his mother and to himself when he was young. He thought about how his father was a drunk. He thought about how he didn’t want the man to know he was gay. And he thought about his neighbor who had taken advantage of him when he was a boy and how that could be the blame for everything.
His father would come home late and drunk. His inebriation made him like a wounded animal in need of shelter and his mother, the faithful and dependable wife, would tend to him, care for him. That went on for years with varying degrees of intensity and need, even after he was off to college.
That was when he found himself, or at least could be himself. So many trysts in dark rooms, making himself vulnerable to men who used him for his body and what he represented to them, another conquered man. No one wanted to have a relationship, it was too dangerous. At least the sex could be forgotten, denied, but a relationship, that was something else, something people would find out, something his mother would find out.
For a moment he thought it would be easier when his father died. He came out to his mother, sat her down on a Saturday of his weekend visit home and he told her. She nodded and smiled, then said she didn’t blame him and it wasn’t his fault.
The neighbor, he thought, it was the neighbor who she thinks did this to me. A boy not much older than himself who used to be the terror of the neighborhood. Everyone seemed to have a story about catching him doing something wrong, everyone except Darrell. Well, that’s not true, because there was that one thing, well those things. His mother had almost caught them several times.
The worst was when his friend forgot a pair of underwear at his place, in his room. His mother knew at once the underwear wasn’t Darrell’s. She asked him about it and he told her that it was because they gotten muddy and that he was borrowing a set of clothes. She didn’t seem to believe him. She was suspicious.
But all of that was years ago and yet it felt real, like it had stuck to him. He had told himself many times that there was some way to explain, some perfect argument, a rationale that would make his mother believe and yet he could never bring himself to say anything. Somehow, each time, just before she would prove her willing ignorance to him. She would say something that took the wind out of his lungs.
He moved the thumbnail to his index finger and worked another familiar groove. It was enough to bring him back to the present and yet he felt it. He felt that anger and sorrow right there in his throat, He had been on edge since the accident. It was the little, sentimental things that seemed to do it, something in a movie or some comment, even commercials.
“Walter,” he said. “Would you give me a minute?”
“What?”
“Please, I’m not feeling well. I need a moment.”
Walter looked him in the eye.
“Are you okay? Do you need me to get something?”
“Would you go to the store and buy me a beer?” Darrell asked.
Walter let out a nervous laugh.
“You don’t drink,” he said.
“Please, something, anything, just go out.”
“I’ll get you some ice cream,” Walter replied.
“That’s fine,” he said.
Walter got to his feet, scratched at his chest, but continued to stare at Darrell. The sight of him dressed in a small, comic t-shirt that rode up easily, skinny jeans that looked like a second skin, and his simple, ordinary shoes with thin bottoms reminded Darrell of Walter’s unguarded personality, his youthful curiosity, and his endurance for ridicule. It was enough to make him cry.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Walter said as he approached him.
“No, please, leave me,” Darrell said.
Walter moved closer, touched his shoulder.
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“It’s too late. You just have to let it out. You’ll feel better.”
“No,” Darrell said with a shake of his head.
“Yes, you have to let it out. You have to scream about it. Even if no one listens and no one knows, you can’t hold it inside of you.”
That sent Darrell over the edge as his silent tears became vicious sobs and grunts of agony. Walter moved closer, sat beside him on the recliner’s large armrest and placed his arm down around Darrell’s shoulders. He rubbed Darrell’s shoulder and took a deep breath.
It used to be work hard Monday through Friday, start drinking Friday night, recover on Sunday by nursing his poison and then be ready for work on Monday where he’d really dry out in the first meeting of the week. He would regain his faculties, his brain would be stimulated by all of the problems and all of the solutions. Then Wednesday became like Friday and he was constantly trying to recover, no manage, from the poison he drank.
He stabbed his thumbnail into the tip of his middle finger to try and bring himself back to the present as he sat there. Walter was a few feet away quietly eating a bowl of cereal. He felt like a burden to all of them. He felt like his father had been to his mother and to himself when he was young. He thought about how his father was a drunk. He thought about how he didn’t want the man to know he was gay. And he thought about his neighbor who had taken advantage of him when he was a boy and how that could be the blame for everything.
His father would come home late and drunk. His inebriation made him like a wounded animal in need of shelter and his mother, the faithful and dependable wife, would tend to him, care for him. That went on for years with varying degrees of intensity and need, even after he was off to college.
That was when he found himself, or at least could be himself. So many trysts in dark rooms, making himself vulnerable to men who used him for his body and what he represented to them, another conquered man. No one wanted to have a relationship, it was too dangerous. At least the sex could be forgotten, denied, but a relationship, that was something else, something people would find out, something his mother would find out.
For a moment he thought it would be easier when his father died. He came out to his mother, sat her down on a Saturday of his weekend visit home and he told her. She nodded and smiled, then said she didn’t blame him and it wasn’t his fault.
The neighbor, he thought, it was the neighbor who she thinks did this to me. A boy not much older than himself who used to be the terror of the neighborhood. Everyone seemed to have a story about catching him doing something wrong, everyone except Darrell. Well, that’s not true, because there was that one thing, well those things. His mother had almost caught them several times.
The worst was when his friend forgot a pair of underwear at his place, in his room. His mother knew at once the underwear wasn’t Darrell’s. She asked him about it and he told her that it was because they gotten muddy and that he was borrowing a set of clothes. She didn’t seem to believe him. She was suspicious.
But all of that was years ago and yet it felt real, like it had stuck to him. He had told himself many times that there was some way to explain, some perfect argument, a rationale that would make his mother believe and yet he could never bring himself to say anything. Somehow, each time, just before she would prove her willing ignorance to him. She would say something that took the wind out of his lungs.
He moved the thumbnail to his index finger and worked another familiar groove. It was enough to bring him back to the present and yet he felt it. He felt that anger and sorrow right there in his throat, He had been on edge since the accident. It was the little, sentimental things that seemed to do it, something in a movie or some comment, even commercials.
“Walter,” he said. “Would you give me a minute?”
“What?”
“Please, I’m not feeling well. I need a moment.”
Walter looked him in the eye.
“Are you okay? Do you need me to get something?”
“Would you go to the store and buy me a beer?” Darrell asked.
Walter let out a nervous laugh.
“You don’t drink,” he said.
“Please, something, anything, just go out.”
“I’ll get you some ice cream,” Walter replied.
“That’s fine,” he said.
Walter got to his feet, scratched at his chest, but continued to stare at Darrell. The sight of him dressed in a small, comic t-shirt that rode up easily, skinny jeans that looked like a second skin, and his simple, ordinary shoes with thin bottoms reminded Darrell of Walter’s unguarded personality, his youthful curiosity, and his endurance for ridicule. It was enough to make him cry.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Walter said as he approached him.
“No, please, leave me,” Darrell said.
Walter moved closer, touched his shoulder.
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“It’s too late. You just have to let it out. You’ll feel better.”
“No,” Darrell said with a shake of his head.
“Yes, you have to let it out. You have to scream about it. Even if no one listens and no one knows, you can’t hold it inside of you.”
That sent Darrell over the edge as his silent tears became vicious sobs and grunts of agony. Walter moved closer, sat beside him on the recliner’s large armrest and placed his arm down around Darrell’s shoulders. He rubbed Darrell’s shoulder and took a deep breath.
Monday, May 5, 2014
Ch. 29 Prospects
Going to a gay bar with Chad was still uncomfortable for Spencer, especially because he was cute and because he got most of the attention which didn’t seem to bother him. It was the muscled build and the close cut hair, Spencer told himself.
“So how are things with your roommate?”
“That was a total disaster. I kind of freaked out on him and he didn’t deserve it and I apologized to him but it doesn’t feel the same.”
“Is he still living there?”
“Yeah, but we don’t talk much. It’s kind of this awkward silence. I keep thinking I have something to say to him, you know, but it won’t come out right. I think it’s over. It’s like a Cold War and we’re just going to have to part ways.”
“Do you still like him?”
“Yeah,” Spencer said.
“Then you should give it another chance,” Chad said.
“How do I do that?”
Chad took a sip from his drink.
“You should apologize again,” Chad said. “But mean it this time.”
“Hey, I meant it last time.”
Chad rolled his eyes and sat back. He crossed his arms and looked away.
“What? You don’t think so?”
“I think you said what needed to be said but I don’t think it was a really, sincere apology. Sometimes you have to apologize more than once. My wife and I both have been there with each other. When you can apologize the second time then it’s real.”
“But he doesn’t even want a relationship with me. He wants to go back to that, that asshole, that monster and it’s like, so frustrating, I can’t even stand it. Who does that?”
Chad shook his head.
“We are all in unequal power relationships all of our lives, sometimes we mistake abuse for love, at least he has another option and you are giving him that. Some people have no resources, hey, at least he stayed.”
“I think that had more to do with Triston than me,” Spencer said.
“But it gave you another chance. I’m not saying he’ll accept your apology or that you will end up happily ever after. I’m just saying you should be a man and do it.”
“And when was the last time you apologized twice?” Spencer asked.
“When I lost my job,” Chad answered. “I said it that day and I said it just a few days ago because I can’t find work.”
“Nothing?”
“That I want to do. My best option right now is security. I go from being a protector of people to being a protector of stuff.”
“There’s always gay porn,” Spencer said.
“The money isn’t regular enough and besides I want to run for public office some day,” Chad said.
“Really?”
“No,” Chad said.
“You wouldn’t have to take it up the ass,” Spencer joked.
“It’s not my style,” Chad said. “I didn’t really like it. You gay guys are tough.”
Spencer stopped himself from spitting out his drink. He swallowed.
“Uh?”
“It happened once. Okay, technically twice, but the first time was a surprise and the second time was, well, more voluntary but it didn’t feel good.”
“Uh,” Spencer said.
“The prostate is one thing but having something inside you is too much, well for me it is,” Chad said.
“No uh, I can understand that,” Spencer said.
“Really?”
“We’re not all like obsessed with it. Some of us like it and some of us don’t.”
Chad nodded. They looked at each other awkwardly before looking away and letting out nervous laughter.
“Is that true what you just told me?”
“Completely, but let’s never talk about it again. And if you tell anyone I’ll deny it.”
“So guys don’t do it for you? You aren’t, like, bisexual?”
“Sorry no,” Chad said.
“But you’re comfortable in your sexuality? What about a job here?”
“What?”
“Yeah, gay bars hire anyone as long as they’re cute. You’d make good tips, especially if the guys can’t have you.”
“Come on,” Chad said. “I worked as a bartender once but that was mostly dealing with beer.”
“You’re not doing anything else,” Spencer said.
“It would be easy. I could work part-time and go back to school and finish my bachelor’s degree.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Come with me, I kind of know the owner.”
“What? No, not really, I couldn’t.”
“Come on,” Spencer said before standing.
He moved to Chad’s side and began to pull at his arm playfully before Chad got up and began to walk with him. They made their way through the bar towards the back and the manager’s office.
“So how are things with your roommate?”
“That was a total disaster. I kind of freaked out on him and he didn’t deserve it and I apologized to him but it doesn’t feel the same.”
“Is he still living there?”
“Yeah, but we don’t talk much. It’s kind of this awkward silence. I keep thinking I have something to say to him, you know, but it won’t come out right. I think it’s over. It’s like a Cold War and we’re just going to have to part ways.”
“Do you still like him?”
“Yeah,” Spencer said.
“Then you should give it another chance,” Chad said.
“How do I do that?”
Chad took a sip from his drink.
“You should apologize again,” Chad said. “But mean it this time.”
“Hey, I meant it last time.”
Chad rolled his eyes and sat back. He crossed his arms and looked away.
“What? You don’t think so?”
“I think you said what needed to be said but I don’t think it was a really, sincere apology. Sometimes you have to apologize more than once. My wife and I both have been there with each other. When you can apologize the second time then it’s real.”
“But he doesn’t even want a relationship with me. He wants to go back to that, that asshole, that monster and it’s like, so frustrating, I can’t even stand it. Who does that?”
Chad shook his head.
“We are all in unequal power relationships all of our lives, sometimes we mistake abuse for love, at least he has another option and you are giving him that. Some people have no resources, hey, at least he stayed.”
“I think that had more to do with Triston than me,” Spencer said.
“But it gave you another chance. I’m not saying he’ll accept your apology or that you will end up happily ever after. I’m just saying you should be a man and do it.”
“And when was the last time you apologized twice?” Spencer asked.
“When I lost my job,” Chad answered. “I said it that day and I said it just a few days ago because I can’t find work.”
“Nothing?”
“That I want to do. My best option right now is security. I go from being a protector of people to being a protector of stuff.”
“There’s always gay porn,” Spencer said.
“The money isn’t regular enough and besides I want to run for public office some day,” Chad said.
“Really?”
“No,” Chad said.
“You wouldn’t have to take it up the ass,” Spencer joked.
“It’s not my style,” Chad said. “I didn’t really like it. You gay guys are tough.”
Spencer stopped himself from spitting out his drink. He swallowed.
“Uh?”
“It happened once. Okay, technically twice, but the first time was a surprise and the second time was, well, more voluntary but it didn’t feel good.”
“Uh,” Spencer said.
“The prostate is one thing but having something inside you is too much, well for me it is,” Chad said.
“No uh, I can understand that,” Spencer said.
“Really?”
“We’re not all like obsessed with it. Some of us like it and some of us don’t.”
Chad nodded. They looked at each other awkwardly before looking away and letting out nervous laughter.
“Is that true what you just told me?”
“Completely, but let’s never talk about it again. And if you tell anyone I’ll deny it.”
“So guys don’t do it for you? You aren’t, like, bisexual?”
“Sorry no,” Chad said.
“But you’re comfortable in your sexuality? What about a job here?”
“What?”
“Yeah, gay bars hire anyone as long as they’re cute. You’d make good tips, especially if the guys can’t have you.”
“Come on,” Chad said. “I worked as a bartender once but that was mostly dealing with beer.”
“You’re not doing anything else,” Spencer said.
“It would be easy. I could work part-time and go back to school and finish my bachelor’s degree.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Come with me, I kind of know the owner.”
“What? No, not really, I couldn’t.”
“Come on,” Spencer said before standing.
He moved to Chad’s side and began to pull at his arm playfully before Chad got up and began to walk with him. They made their way through the bar towards the back and the manager’s office.
Monday, April 28, 2014
Ch. 28 Collisions
When an accident happens it’s a strange thing because it’s easy to take life’s mundane predictability for granted, Walter thought, but then something happens, you were on your way somewhere and wham, you get hit from behind. That was what happened to Darrell who sat a few feet away from him nursing a soda and slowly eating a sandwich.
Walter bit at the skin of his thumb as he thought about the phone call and the way they all went to the hospital for him, gathered around his bed, and promised to help him. He had been silent then, even though he wanted to say something. He wanted to promise but it just all felt like too much and the words got stuck in his throat. It didn’t matter, he told himself, because actions are better than words.
Being a college student he had the most free time, somehow the responsibility had fallen to him, for some reason he volunteered for it. Mostly it meant sitting around with him watching television, which was fine by Walter, especially since Darrell didn’t mind when he wore a diaper and a onesie, but dealing with the medication made him nervous, and helping him exercise was even worse.
He was happy Darrell could get to the toilet alone and take care of himself in the bathroom. Walter hated the idea of having to do any of those things for him. Cooking and cleaning, watching television, and keeping track of the medication was more than enough.
Walter looked to the clock on the wall and sighed. Darrell was due for an exercise period. Luckily Walter had missed the one in the morning. He debated on letting it go but then he thought about the consequences and forced himself to tell Darrell who begrudgingly agreed before trying to push himself up. Walter moved to help him down to the floor and onto his back. Walter moved to his feet that were bare and took hold of his ankles. He looked down to see Darrell was in a pair of shorts instead of his usual sweat pants.
He worked one leg, then the other, in extended motions before pressing each up to Darrell’s chest and pulling it back out. He worked it in all the ways Triston had showed him. He pushed down on Darrell’s leg one last time to hold the knee to his chest before he pulled out and up to stretch it. His shorts to fell down into his crotch revealing his briefs. Walter’s face turned red and Darrell coughed.
“Sorry,” Darrell said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Walter replied.
“It’s not, I mean you, it’s just.”
“Don’t worry about it this doesn’t even feel remotely sexual,” Walter said.
“I wasn’t thinking,” Darrell said. “It’s because it’s warm in here and I didn’t have anything else.”
Walter shrugged his shoulders.
“There’s times I’m in just a diaper,” he said.
“It’s different,” Darrell said.
“Well, trust me, I’m not getting anything out of this,” Walter said.
Darrell rolled his eyes and promised himself that next time he’d make sure to wear long pants. Walter continued with the exercise until he had done everything he could remember to do, then he helped Darrell back up to his chair. He helped Darrell get adjusted, made sure everything was how he liked it and asked him if he wanted some ice cream. Darrell refused but Walter said he was going to get some for himself.
He went into the kitchen and made himself a banana split with hot fudge and caramel toppings, a sprinkle of nuts, and a cherry on top. He was satisfied by the completion of his snack and was about to head back into the living room when there was a knock at the door. Walter set down his dish and went to answer it. He opened the door to find a delivery man in the hallway.
At first he looked surprised, but then he smiled, amused somehow, and finally he cleared his throat and became more serious as he handed over the tablet that Walter took and signed. He handed the tablet back and took the package, watched as the delivery man turned and walked away, shook his head.
Walter felt his stomach tighten. That man would make him the butt of jokes. He wouldn’t just be another faggot but one dressed like a child, an immature one at that. He closed the door, set the package on the counter, and got his banana split. He walked into the living room where Darrell sat with his head against his fist contemplating something. It was probably a drink, Walter thought.
He took a deep breath and puffed up his chest. That delivery man was just another stranger, his judgment was just his inability to deal with other people’s differences. The diaper suddenly felt odd against his body and yet he wasn’t going to take it off or give it up. This is who I am and life is short, he told himself. He looked to Darrell, and we never know what is going to happen next.
Walter bit at the skin of his thumb as he thought about the phone call and the way they all went to the hospital for him, gathered around his bed, and promised to help him. He had been silent then, even though he wanted to say something. He wanted to promise but it just all felt like too much and the words got stuck in his throat. It didn’t matter, he told himself, because actions are better than words.
Being a college student he had the most free time, somehow the responsibility had fallen to him, for some reason he volunteered for it. Mostly it meant sitting around with him watching television, which was fine by Walter, especially since Darrell didn’t mind when he wore a diaper and a onesie, but dealing with the medication made him nervous, and helping him exercise was even worse.
He was happy Darrell could get to the toilet alone and take care of himself in the bathroom. Walter hated the idea of having to do any of those things for him. Cooking and cleaning, watching television, and keeping track of the medication was more than enough.
Walter looked to the clock on the wall and sighed. Darrell was due for an exercise period. Luckily Walter had missed the one in the morning. He debated on letting it go but then he thought about the consequences and forced himself to tell Darrell who begrudgingly agreed before trying to push himself up. Walter moved to help him down to the floor and onto his back. Walter moved to his feet that were bare and took hold of his ankles. He looked down to see Darrell was in a pair of shorts instead of his usual sweat pants.
He worked one leg, then the other, in extended motions before pressing each up to Darrell’s chest and pulling it back out. He worked it in all the ways Triston had showed him. He pushed down on Darrell’s leg one last time to hold the knee to his chest before he pulled out and up to stretch it. His shorts to fell down into his crotch revealing his briefs. Walter’s face turned red and Darrell coughed.
“Sorry,” Darrell said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Walter replied.
“It’s not, I mean you, it’s just.”
“Don’t worry about it this doesn’t even feel remotely sexual,” Walter said.
“I wasn’t thinking,” Darrell said. “It’s because it’s warm in here and I didn’t have anything else.”
Walter shrugged his shoulders.
“There’s times I’m in just a diaper,” he said.
“It’s different,” Darrell said.
“Well, trust me, I’m not getting anything out of this,” Walter said.
Darrell rolled his eyes and promised himself that next time he’d make sure to wear long pants. Walter continued with the exercise until he had done everything he could remember to do, then he helped Darrell back up to his chair. He helped Darrell get adjusted, made sure everything was how he liked it and asked him if he wanted some ice cream. Darrell refused but Walter said he was going to get some for himself.
He went into the kitchen and made himself a banana split with hot fudge and caramel toppings, a sprinkle of nuts, and a cherry on top. He was satisfied by the completion of his snack and was about to head back into the living room when there was a knock at the door. Walter set down his dish and went to answer it. He opened the door to find a delivery man in the hallway.
At first he looked surprised, but then he smiled, amused somehow, and finally he cleared his throat and became more serious as he handed over the tablet that Walter took and signed. He handed the tablet back and took the package, watched as the delivery man turned and walked away, shook his head.
Walter felt his stomach tighten. That man would make him the butt of jokes. He wouldn’t just be another faggot but one dressed like a child, an immature one at that. He closed the door, set the package on the counter, and got his banana split. He walked into the living room where Darrell sat with his head against his fist contemplating something. It was probably a drink, Walter thought.
He took a deep breath and puffed up his chest. That delivery man was just another stranger, his judgment was just his inability to deal with other people’s differences. The diaper suddenly felt odd against his body and yet he wasn’t going to take it off or give it up. This is who I am and life is short, he told himself. He looked to Darrell, and we never know what is going to happen next.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Ch 27 Wet Underwear
The Unicorn was crowded. Everyone was there for the wet underwear contest. Sitting at a table in the front of the audience was Spencer, Triston, Vincent, and Josh. Vincent and Triston sat next to each other with their fingers intertwined, across from them was Spencer and Josh a foot apart. Spencer had his arms crossed. Josh looked away in boredom.
“I can’t believe they’re going to do it. Doesn’t this feel wrong?” Spencer asked.
“It’s just a contest,” Triston replied. He turned to the table. “Besides, Bobby is a dancer here. It’s no big deal for him.”
“It still feels wrong. I mean I avoid the place when I know he’s working.”
“You’ve seen him naked plenty of times,” Triston said.
“Yeah but this different,” Spencer replied.
His concern, their conversation, got the attention of Vincent and Josh who both leaned in to the table.
“Think of it like a dance contest.”
“This isn’t the ballet. Walter and Bobby are going to be grinding on each other.”
“What are they doing?” Vincent asked.
“Yeah, what are they doing?” Josh asked.
“It’s a dance routine. It’s from these two movies from the Philippines, Macho Dancer and um... what’s the other one?”
“Midnight Dancers,” Spencer said.
“I’ve never seen them,” Vincent said.
Josh shook his head.
“These Philippine guys dance with each other, some of them are supposed to be straight, but they have this whole routine where they use water and soap and pour it on each other as they stand in this tub. Usually they wear white briefs but sometimes they’re naked.”
“White briefs?” Josh asked. “Give me a pair of Andrew Christian, that would be hot.”
“Andrew Christian is the black panties of gay men. You only wear them when you want to get laid.”
“No way, they’re an everyday thing. Why wouldn’t you want to feel sexy?”
“I don’t know if I could focus on anything,” Vincent said.
“My everyday wear has to be more ordinary,” Spencer said.
Triston was about to add his opinion when he saw Darrell stepping to their table still dressed in his work clothes. He watched as the man sat heavily in his chair and leaned onto the table and decided to try and distract him.
“We need you to settle an argument. Spencer here is saying that Andrew Christian underwear is the black panties of gay men's fashion whereas Josh believes they can be an everyday item.”
“Not everyday,” Darrell replied. “They’re too form fitting for that.”
“See, that’s what I was thinking,” Vincent replied.
“I wouldn’t want to think about working at my office wearing them,” Spencer said.
“Okay, if Andrew Christian is the black panties then white briefs are definitely the grannie panty. They have form, they have function, and they have utility,” Josh said.
“You just think that because your generation is obsessed with boxers which are the most nonsexual of all undergarments. They’re flat, generally shapeless, and most common thing for actors on TV who don’t want to show a little.”
“Okay, the jock is definitely a Friday night kind of wear but the regular ones... white briefs are cheap and only to be worn under clothes, not to be seen in the light of day.”
The rest of the group looked to Josh who raised his eyebrows as he sipped from his beer. They laughed and turned away, looked up to the stage. Some of the tension between them was broken and when the host, a tall drag queen in a blue sparkled dress, stepped onto the stage they were focused on something else.
“All right everyone, welcome to the Unicorn’s fifth annual wet underwear contest, now just remember no cameras, security will be standing by to help anyone who uses one. They’ll show you how to use the delete button and then kick your ass to the curb.”
The crowd booed.
“It’s not my policy. It’s just some of the amateur dancers are a little shy and don’t want their faces out there while showing their goods. But I’d show you everything and we can take all the pictures you want, just see me after the show.”
The crowd laughed.
One by one the host introduced each of the contestants who stepped on stage in a pair of briefs, different brands and different colors except Walter and Bobby who stood in identical white Calvin Klein briefs. Their bodies were very different. Bobby was muscled and Walter was skinny, though slightly athletic.
The host moved them through the paces, eventually each pair danced together until it got to Bobby and Walter who carried out a metal tub and several pitchers of water. The dance music started to play and they moved to each other still nervous to be seen, to touch each other, especially in front of a crowd, but they were committed.
They became comfortable with each other as they danced chest to chest, grabbed hold of each other. They had practiced wearing exercise clothes. Bobby turned Walter and moved him the tub where they stepped inside. Bobby picked up the pitcher of water and began to slowly pour it over Walter’s chest. The crowd cheered. Spencer whistled.
They were grinding on each other for a long moment before they switched places. Bobby was almost completely dry. Walter poured the water along his chest and shoulders causing it to highlight the definition of his muscles. The crowd went wild. Walter scooped up more and poured it over Bobby’s chest, down his abs, and over his briefs that once wet clung to the young man’s form and became translucent.
Bobby turned and they nuzzled with each other as they continued to dance. Spencer, Triston, Vincent, and Josh were on their feet with the rest of the crowd who cheered and yelled, whistled and screamed.
Spencer moved to Josh and whispered in his ear, “What do you think now? Still think they shouldn’t be seen in the light of day?”
“I can’t believe they’re going to do it. Doesn’t this feel wrong?” Spencer asked.
“It’s just a contest,” Triston replied. He turned to the table. “Besides, Bobby is a dancer here. It’s no big deal for him.”
“It still feels wrong. I mean I avoid the place when I know he’s working.”
“You’ve seen him naked plenty of times,” Triston said.
“Yeah but this different,” Spencer replied.
His concern, their conversation, got the attention of Vincent and Josh who both leaned in to the table.
“Think of it like a dance contest.”
“This isn’t the ballet. Walter and Bobby are going to be grinding on each other.”
“What are they doing?” Vincent asked.
“Yeah, what are they doing?” Josh asked.
“It’s a dance routine. It’s from these two movies from the Philippines, Macho Dancer and um... what’s the other one?”
“Midnight Dancers,” Spencer said.
“I’ve never seen them,” Vincent said.
Josh shook his head.
“These Philippine guys dance with each other, some of them are supposed to be straight, but they have this whole routine where they use water and soap and pour it on each other as they stand in this tub. Usually they wear white briefs but sometimes they’re naked.”
“White briefs?” Josh asked. “Give me a pair of Andrew Christian, that would be hot.”
“Andrew Christian is the black panties of gay men. You only wear them when you want to get laid.”
“No way, they’re an everyday thing. Why wouldn’t you want to feel sexy?”
“I don’t know if I could focus on anything,” Vincent said.
“My everyday wear has to be more ordinary,” Spencer said.
Triston was about to add his opinion when he saw Darrell stepping to their table still dressed in his work clothes. He watched as the man sat heavily in his chair and leaned onto the table and decided to try and distract him.
“We need you to settle an argument. Spencer here is saying that Andrew Christian underwear is the black panties of gay men's fashion whereas Josh believes they can be an everyday item.”
“Not everyday,” Darrell replied. “They’re too form fitting for that.”
“See, that’s what I was thinking,” Vincent replied.
“I wouldn’t want to think about working at my office wearing them,” Spencer said.
“Okay, if Andrew Christian is the black panties then white briefs are definitely the grannie panty. They have form, they have function, and they have utility,” Josh said.
“You just think that because your generation is obsessed with boxers which are the most nonsexual of all undergarments. They’re flat, generally shapeless, and most common thing for actors on TV who don’t want to show a little.”
“Okay, the jock is definitely a Friday night kind of wear but the regular ones... white briefs are cheap and only to be worn under clothes, not to be seen in the light of day.”
The rest of the group looked to Josh who raised his eyebrows as he sipped from his beer. They laughed and turned away, looked up to the stage. Some of the tension between them was broken and when the host, a tall drag queen in a blue sparkled dress, stepped onto the stage they were focused on something else.
“All right everyone, welcome to the Unicorn’s fifth annual wet underwear contest, now just remember no cameras, security will be standing by to help anyone who uses one. They’ll show you how to use the delete button and then kick your ass to the curb.”
The crowd booed.
“It’s not my policy. It’s just some of the amateur dancers are a little shy and don’t want their faces out there while showing their goods. But I’d show you everything and we can take all the pictures you want, just see me after the show.”
The crowd laughed.
One by one the host introduced each of the contestants who stepped on stage in a pair of briefs, different brands and different colors except Walter and Bobby who stood in identical white Calvin Klein briefs. Their bodies were very different. Bobby was muscled and Walter was skinny, though slightly athletic.
The host moved them through the paces, eventually each pair danced together until it got to Bobby and Walter who carried out a metal tub and several pitchers of water. The dance music started to play and they moved to each other still nervous to be seen, to touch each other, especially in front of a crowd, but they were committed.
They became comfortable with each other as they danced chest to chest, grabbed hold of each other. They had practiced wearing exercise clothes. Bobby turned Walter and moved him the tub where they stepped inside. Bobby picked up the pitcher of water and began to slowly pour it over Walter’s chest. The crowd cheered. Spencer whistled.
They were grinding on each other for a long moment before they switched places. Bobby was almost completely dry. Walter poured the water along his chest and shoulders causing it to highlight the definition of his muscles. The crowd went wild. Walter scooped up more and poured it over Bobby’s chest, down his abs, and over his briefs that once wet clung to the young man’s form and became translucent.
Bobby turned and they nuzzled with each other as they continued to dance. Spencer, Triston, Vincent, and Josh were on their feet with the rest of the crowd who cheered and yelled, whistled and screamed.
Spencer moved to Josh and whispered in his ear, “What do you think now? Still think they shouldn’t be seen in the light of day?”
Monday, April 14, 2014
Ch 26 Tattoos and Scars
Triston sat at the sales counter for his job quietly staring into a cup of coffee as he thought about his two friends Spencer and Josh. They had each related to him their accounts for their argument at different times.
Spencer:
“Look I know what I did was wrong and I apologized for it but I’m just so tired of guys like him thinking I’m not their type. It’s the classic thing right? Nice guys finish last. Well, I’m a nice guy, most of the time, and it’s not fair. I mean I did all of that for him. I let him move into my apartment. You know how much I hate sharing an apartment with someone and then I take him to the group session and practically hold his hand to get him there and I was there for him afterwards. I’m not saying I deserve something like sex or a relationship but it wasn’t easy. And I thought we had this connection. I thought, you know, we were getting close.”
Josh:
“Look he took me in and everything and I’m used to having arguments with people, he just kind of surprised me by professing his love one moment and then snapping on me the next whenever I start talking about my ex. What kind of person does that? I love you and now I hate you. He apologized and I told him I forgave him but I don’t know. I didn’t think he’d use it against me like that. He said some really mean things.”
He picked up his coffee and took a sip before putting it down and walking away from the counter and through the store looking for something to do, but the floors were clean, everything was arranged properly. He made his way to the back room where Cheryl sat at her desk writing out her presentation. He leaned against the doorway.
“What’s the problem?” she asked.
“I don’t know why I keep thinking about it,” Triston said.
“Do you want to be any more vague?”
“My two friends, you know Spencer and this new guys Josh. One fell for the other but it’s not reciprocal and now it’s become a problem. Why do people have to be so worried about long term commitment or the perfect relationship?
“Look, I’m not saying they use each other but what’s wrong with them each getting something out of it? I mean what if they only date for a few months, maybe year, and they both become better people for having known each other but then they separate and go their own way.”
She stared at him for a moment as she organized her thoughts. Her silence made him uncomfortable.
“Life doesn’t work that way honey. Each relationship is like having a tattoo or a scar, some are beautiful and some you regret.”
Spencer:
“Look I know what I did was wrong and I apologized for it but I’m just so tired of guys like him thinking I’m not their type. It’s the classic thing right? Nice guys finish last. Well, I’m a nice guy, most of the time, and it’s not fair. I mean I did all of that for him. I let him move into my apartment. You know how much I hate sharing an apartment with someone and then I take him to the group session and practically hold his hand to get him there and I was there for him afterwards. I’m not saying I deserve something like sex or a relationship but it wasn’t easy. And I thought we had this connection. I thought, you know, we were getting close.”
Josh:
“Look he took me in and everything and I’m used to having arguments with people, he just kind of surprised me by professing his love one moment and then snapping on me the next whenever I start talking about my ex. What kind of person does that? I love you and now I hate you. He apologized and I told him I forgave him but I don’t know. I didn’t think he’d use it against me like that. He said some really mean things.”
He picked up his coffee and took a sip before putting it down and walking away from the counter and through the store looking for something to do, but the floors were clean, everything was arranged properly. He made his way to the back room where Cheryl sat at her desk writing out her presentation. He leaned against the doorway.
“What’s the problem?” she asked.
“I don’t know why I keep thinking about it,” Triston said.
“Do you want to be any more vague?”
“My two friends, you know Spencer and this new guys Josh. One fell for the other but it’s not reciprocal and now it’s become a problem. Why do people have to be so worried about long term commitment or the perfect relationship?
“Look, I’m not saying they use each other but what’s wrong with them each getting something out of it? I mean what if they only date for a few months, maybe year, and they both become better people for having known each other but then they separate and go their own way.”
She stared at him for a moment as she organized her thoughts. Her silence made him uncomfortable.
“Life doesn’t work that way honey. Each relationship is like having a tattoo or a scar, some are beautiful and some you regret.”
Monday, April 7, 2014
Ch 25 The Journey
Was love at first sight possible? How different would he feel tomorrow?
Triston looked his new friend Vincent in the eye as they sat at the bar having a post orgasm drink. They had met hours before at a dinner party, fooled around in the bedroom against the back of the door, and finally made it to the bar for some kind of celebration.
He often thought that dating was like two particles of an opposite charge trying to find each other in a crowded field. Each particle was pulled in different directions and yet when they got close enough there was something between them. He had felt it before, had many good relationships out of that attraction, some became friends, others he might not see again, but when there is a bond it is hard to deny.
It wasn’t just that Vincent was handsome because he was. It wasn’t just that they were about the same age or that Vincent seemed to have a good job, dress well, and had an easy confidence. It wasn’t just the warmth of his hands or the size of his dick.
Just being apart a few feet to use the restroom, entertain a friend in another room, or when they were leaving felt wrong. They had so much in common. Vincent wasn’t like anyone else. He wasn’t like Walter who had decided he needed to explore on his own. Triston had thought that relationship was doomed from the start. Not doomed, but finite, as if it only had one meaning. He was there to help Walter experiment and find comfort, to be accepted, and it was time for them both to move on to something, someone, else.
“We’ve been having such a good time but there’s something I have to tell you. I don’t want to ruin this.”
The words stole the breath from Triston’s lungs and he had to close his eyes for a moment to focus on the present without imagining the future. He had an immediate suspicion about what was going to be said. There was only one thing to be said when two men were about to be more intimate.
“I have AIDS,” Vincent said.
“That’s okay,” Triston replied.
“You’re not afraid of me?”
“Afraid of you? No,” Triston said with a shake of his head.
Vincent looked at him trying to figure out some tell, some way to know he was lying.
“I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of the disease. I’m afraid of catching it depending on what we do but there’s protection for that. I’m afraid of getting it, having it.” Triston took a deep breath. “I’m afraid that it will make you sick. I’m afraid that you will die young, before I’m ready to let you go. I’m afraid I’ll get old without you.”
“We barely know each other,” Vincent said.
“I feel like I’ve known you before, maybe in a previous life.”
“You’re kind of a hippie aren’t you?”
“I’d like to think I’m okay with uncertainty. I’m a pragmatist.”
“Well, we have have one thing in common.”
“I’ve dated guys with it before, it’s not easy but we had a lot of fun.”
“But you don’t have it?”
Triston shook his head.
“Do you want to go back to my place then?”
Triston touched the side of Vincent’s head, ran his fingers around his ear and through his hair to his jawline where he grazed the bone and pulled him into a kiss. He got to his feet and grabbed hold of Vincent’s side, felt the warmth of him. Their tongues tickled each other until he felt too many people were staring in their direction. They were in a straight bar after all. It didn’t matter at the time they entered because they were there for a drink. They pulled apart.
Everyone looked away, including the bartender. Triston took hold of Vincent’s hand and pulled him from the barstool to his feet. Hand in hand they walked from the bar and out into the rain and back to Vincent’s car.
He tried to not think of the goal as a measure of success even though it felt like it should be. He blamed his typical American upbringing for that. No, to keep living he always tried to put it in different terms and reframe the narrative. To only think of the goal was being dismissive of everything he experienced to get there.
Triston looked his new friend Vincent in the eye as they sat at the bar having a post orgasm drink. They had met hours before at a dinner party, fooled around in the bedroom against the back of the door, and finally made it to the bar for some kind of celebration.
He often thought that dating was like two particles of an opposite charge trying to find each other in a crowded field. Each particle was pulled in different directions and yet when they got close enough there was something between them. He had felt it before, had many good relationships out of that attraction, some became friends, others he might not see again, but when there is a bond it is hard to deny.
It wasn’t just that Vincent was handsome because he was. It wasn’t just that they were about the same age or that Vincent seemed to have a good job, dress well, and had an easy confidence. It wasn’t just the warmth of his hands or the size of his dick.
Just being apart a few feet to use the restroom, entertain a friend in another room, or when they were leaving felt wrong. They had so much in common. Vincent wasn’t like anyone else. He wasn’t like Walter who had decided he needed to explore on his own. Triston had thought that relationship was doomed from the start. Not doomed, but finite, as if it only had one meaning. He was there to help Walter experiment and find comfort, to be accepted, and it was time for them both to move on to something, someone, else.
“We’ve been having such a good time but there’s something I have to tell you. I don’t want to ruin this.”
The words stole the breath from Triston’s lungs and he had to close his eyes for a moment to focus on the present without imagining the future. He had an immediate suspicion about what was going to be said. There was only one thing to be said when two men were about to be more intimate.
“I have AIDS,” Vincent said.
“That’s okay,” Triston replied.
“You’re not afraid of me?”
“Afraid of you? No,” Triston said with a shake of his head.
Vincent looked at him trying to figure out some tell, some way to know he was lying.
“I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of the disease. I’m afraid of catching it depending on what we do but there’s protection for that. I’m afraid of getting it, having it.” Triston took a deep breath. “I’m afraid that it will make you sick. I’m afraid that you will die young, before I’m ready to let you go. I’m afraid I’ll get old without you.”
“We barely know each other,” Vincent said.
“I feel like I’ve known you before, maybe in a previous life.”
“You’re kind of a hippie aren’t you?”
“I’d like to think I’m okay with uncertainty. I’m a pragmatist.”
“Well, we have have one thing in common.”
“I’ve dated guys with it before, it’s not easy but we had a lot of fun.”
“But you don’t have it?”
Triston shook his head.
“Do you want to go back to my place then?”
Triston touched the side of Vincent’s head, ran his fingers around his ear and through his hair to his jawline where he grazed the bone and pulled him into a kiss. He got to his feet and grabbed hold of Vincent’s side, felt the warmth of him. Their tongues tickled each other until he felt too many people were staring in their direction. They were in a straight bar after all. It didn’t matter at the time they entered because they were there for a drink. They pulled apart.
Everyone looked away, including the bartender. Triston took hold of Vincent’s hand and pulled him from the barstool to his feet. Hand in hand they walked from the bar and out into the rain and back to Vincent’s car.
He tried to not think of the goal as a measure of success even though it felt like it should be. He blamed his typical American upbringing for that. No, to keep living he always tried to put it in different terms and reframe the narrative. To only think of the goal was being dismissive of everything he experienced to get there.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Ch 24 - Reversed Polarity
Spencer stood with the freezer door open dressed in his workout clothes after following a yoga video in the living room. He had been in the cool down period when Josh came home. Josh was at the counter opening a take out container.
“Oh my god that smells so good,” Spencer said.
“Want some?”
“Oh you temptress, I really want to but I can’t. Friday is my cheat day. I have to lose a few pounds.”
“You look great,” Josh said.
“I look a mess,” Spencer said.
Josh turned to him, crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. There was something on his mind. Spencer took out a fruit juice bar and closed the door. He partially unwrapped the bar and began to suck on the end.
“I uh, talked to Paul today,” Josh said.
“What did that asshole want?” Spencer asked.
He suddenly regretted his word usage. Asshole was something he had been thinking in his head for a long time but never actually verbalized. Now that he said it the word felt appropriate for Paul and yet he didn’t know how Josh would react.
“He’s different,” Josh said. “He’s taking anger management classes and going to A.A. He’s even talking about seeing a couple’s therapist.”
“Couple, like the two of you?”
“What?”
“It’s just, I thought it was over,” Spencer replied.
Josh picked up his food and walked out of the kitchen to the living room where he sat on the couch. Spencer followed him despite his fear of dripping the juice bar on the carpet or worse the couch. He sat next to Josh and looked to the food, watched Josh put some in his mouth and begin to chew.
“It is over right?” Spencer asked.
“It is, well mostly, I mean when it was good it was really good. There were things in his life that I didn’t know about and work was too stressful, but all of that is changing.”
Spencer couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“What?” Josh asked.
“You sound like an after school special. You sound like a Lifetime movie. And this where I’m supposed to try and talk you out of it. This is where I beg and plead and I tell you how great you are, then you go and do something stupid, maybe it ends up okay but most likely it doesn’t, and I might be the one who helps you again or I might be the one who identifies your corpse.”
The last word stung both of them after he said it and he paused. He waited to catch his breath, steady his breathing, and re-frame his thoughts before he said something else, something more cruel. There were so many things he wanted to say.
“I want you to be happy. I want you to get what you want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want something else out of this.”
“You don’t even need a roommate,” Josh said.
Spencer was stunned by the true but inaccurate thought. Could he not see? Did he not feel the same? Would he ever feel the same? He had to say something. It could all be over tomorrow like so many things. He knew there was more regret in not speaking or acting than doing it.
“It’s not that. I’m afraid for you on a human level but also as a friend, because I care about you, and it scares me to say this but I want you to stay in my life. I want you to be part of my life.”
“As friends?”
Spencer reached across the couch to where Josh’s hand lay on his knee and took it. He grasped his fingers, pulled at them until he could hold his entire hand. Josh began to pull away but Spencer held him for a moment before letting go.
“I’m not ready for this,” Josh said.
“But you’d go back to him?”
“It’s different,” Josh said. “We had something. It wasn’t always like that. We complimented each other.”
“But then what? He started hitting you and humiliating you? He belittled you. You feared him.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is easy,” Spencer said. “What’s the real reason? Are you afraid it might not work out between us?”
“Yes,” Josh said. “We’ve never really. I mean you’re cute but--”
“--I’m not your type,” Spencer said. “You like them dangerous.”
Josh dropped his fork in his food and stood. He looked down to Spencer. There was anger in his eyes and something else. He walked the long way around the coffee table to his bedroom but wasn’t in there long before he got his coat and left the apartment with a slam of the door.
Spencer reclined against the couch. He felt a pain in his stomach. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to yell.
Did he want someone who didn’t want him back? He was cute but? Did he just force Josh back into Paul’s clutches? What did he do? He wanted to call Josh or maybe chase after him but there was something else in his eyes besides anger.
He thought about it for a moment before he realized he could verbalize the feeling.
“I’m scared too,” Spencer said.
“Oh my god that smells so good,” Spencer said.
“Want some?”
“Oh you temptress, I really want to but I can’t. Friday is my cheat day. I have to lose a few pounds.”
“You look great,” Josh said.
“I look a mess,” Spencer said.
Josh turned to him, crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. There was something on his mind. Spencer took out a fruit juice bar and closed the door. He partially unwrapped the bar and began to suck on the end.
“I uh, talked to Paul today,” Josh said.
“What did that asshole want?” Spencer asked.
He suddenly regretted his word usage. Asshole was something he had been thinking in his head for a long time but never actually verbalized. Now that he said it the word felt appropriate for Paul and yet he didn’t know how Josh would react.
“He’s different,” Josh said. “He’s taking anger management classes and going to A.A. He’s even talking about seeing a couple’s therapist.”
“Couple, like the two of you?”
“What?”
“It’s just, I thought it was over,” Spencer replied.
Josh picked up his food and walked out of the kitchen to the living room where he sat on the couch. Spencer followed him despite his fear of dripping the juice bar on the carpet or worse the couch. He sat next to Josh and looked to the food, watched Josh put some in his mouth and begin to chew.
“It is over right?” Spencer asked.
“It is, well mostly, I mean when it was good it was really good. There were things in his life that I didn’t know about and work was too stressful, but all of that is changing.”
Spencer couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“What?” Josh asked.
“You sound like an after school special. You sound like a Lifetime movie. And this where I’m supposed to try and talk you out of it. This is where I beg and plead and I tell you how great you are, then you go and do something stupid, maybe it ends up okay but most likely it doesn’t, and I might be the one who helps you again or I might be the one who identifies your corpse.”
The last word stung both of them after he said it and he paused. He waited to catch his breath, steady his breathing, and re-frame his thoughts before he said something else, something more cruel. There were so many things he wanted to say.
“I want you to be happy. I want you to get what you want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want something else out of this.”
“You don’t even need a roommate,” Josh said.
Spencer was stunned by the true but inaccurate thought. Could he not see? Did he not feel the same? Would he ever feel the same? He had to say something. It could all be over tomorrow like so many things. He knew there was more regret in not speaking or acting than doing it.
“It’s not that. I’m afraid for you on a human level but also as a friend, because I care about you, and it scares me to say this but I want you to stay in my life. I want you to be part of my life.”
“As friends?”
Spencer reached across the couch to where Josh’s hand lay on his knee and took it. He grasped his fingers, pulled at them until he could hold his entire hand. Josh began to pull away but Spencer held him for a moment before letting go.
“I’m not ready for this,” Josh said.
“But you’d go back to him?”
“It’s different,” Josh said. “We had something. It wasn’t always like that. We complimented each other.”
“But then what? He started hitting you and humiliating you? He belittled you. You feared him.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is easy,” Spencer said. “What’s the real reason? Are you afraid it might not work out between us?”
“Yes,” Josh said. “We’ve never really. I mean you’re cute but--”
“--I’m not your type,” Spencer said. “You like them dangerous.”
Josh dropped his fork in his food and stood. He looked down to Spencer. There was anger in his eyes and something else. He walked the long way around the coffee table to his bedroom but wasn’t in there long before he got his coat and left the apartment with a slam of the door.
Spencer reclined against the couch. He felt a pain in his stomach. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to yell.
Did he want someone who didn’t want him back? He was cute but? Did he just force Josh back into Paul’s clutches? What did he do? He wanted to call Josh or maybe chase after him but there was something else in his eyes besides anger.
He thought about it for a moment before he realized he could verbalize the feeling.
“I’m scared too,” Spencer said.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Ch 23 - Mistakes
With his hands in the pockets of his hooded jacket Chad leaned back against the building with his head down and one foot against the wall. He looked haggard and miserable as he stood there with a lollipop in his mouth.
Spencer had spotted him from a distance and pulled to the curb. Chad had sounded desperate on the phone and deeply saddened as if someone had died. They looked to each other and Chad pushed away from the building and walked to Spencer’s car where he got in on the passenger side but didn’t speak even as he buckled his seat belt and Spencer pulled into traffic.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Spencer asked.
“Well, do you remember how I told you about that guy at work?”
“The one who called you fire crotch,” Spencer answered.
“Exactly, well, I punched him. He had it coming. He was on me, like literally, over my shoulder. He was really getting to me and he knew it. I shoved him away and he shoved back. He wanted it. I just hit him and he went down. I don’t think he expected that, to go down so easily. I think he’s going to sue the department.”
“Really?”
Chad nodded.
“I’ve been suspended and maybe I’ll be fired. There’s a union and some of the guys are on my side as witnesses but it’s so frustrating.”
“Do you even want to go back?”
“What? What are you saying?”
“I just, I mean, it seems like you didn’t really enjoy it, being a cop. I mean your wife said the guys were kind of assholes and you didn’t get along with them and I mean I never heard you really talk about liking it. You liked the idea of it but being a cop, dealing with your coworkers.”
“I’m too sober for this,” Chad said.
“Me too,” Spencer said. “How about a night of drinking? You call Lucy and I’ll call the guys.”
Minutes later they were back at the apartment building where Spencer parked in the guest area and they were headed up to the guys’ apartment. Lucy was there in the hallway playing a game on her phone.
“I managed to find a sitter,” she said. “I kind of had feeling, a hope, this might happen.”
Spencer walked to the door, unlocked it with his key, and opened it. Inside he was surprised at the sight of Walter and Bobby in the kitchen.
Walter stood in his diaper at the kitchen counter. Bobby was beside him in a matching one. They were making vodka and orange juice screwdrivers.
Chad stepped into the apartment and looked to the young men who looked back over their shoulders and smiled.
“It’s a party thing,” Spencer said.
“Sorry I didn’t get the notice or I would have worn my onesie,” Chad said.
“Really?” Spencer asked.
“No, I don’t have a onesie. I sleep naked.”
Spencer looked away to the padded, covered asses of the two young men, cleared his throat and coughed.
“We’re going out for a drink,” Spencer said. “It’s kind of an emergency. Chad might get fired from his job.”
“Who all is going?” Walter asked.
“Me, Darrell, Chad, Josh, and Lucy... uh, Triston is going to stay here and I guess Bobby is staying too.”
Walter shrugged his shoulders.
“Hey, look I’m sorry, really it’s an emergency thing, but, I got you a present,” Spencer said.
He opened his satchel bag and pulled out a wrapped, small gift which he gave to Walter who immediately opened it to find a small, thin but ornate book.
“Leaves of Grass?” Walter asked.
“Walt Whitman,” Spencer said. “Super gay, lots of writing about naked young men and vulnerability.”
“Thanks,” Walter said.
“No problem,” Spencer said.
Walter added it to the pile of birthday cards he had received from each of the guys, his parents, and friends. It wasn’t long before the four of them were leaving, taking with them for a moment all of the energy from the room. Walter looked down to his drink, to Bobby, and then to Triston.
“Hey, we can still have fun,” Triston said.
“Yeah, no problem,” Walter said. I should be used to this by now, he thought.
Hours later, Walter was on his stomach staring up at the television. Beside him Bobby was on his back also trying to watch but clearly more intoxicated. Triston sat in on the couch behind them focused on the screen as well. They were all in a warm, dark comfort. A now familiar jazz style theme song played from the speakers.
“I don’t know how I let you talk me into wearing this thing,” Bobby said.
“I dared you,” Walter said.
“I mean it’s kind of like thick briefs. They cover all of the same areas but it’s different.”
“You can take it off if you want,” Walter said.
“No, I’m okay,” Walter said. “I’m drunk enough I might just pee in it. It’ll make it easier.”
“Well, I’m not cleaning it up,” Triston said.
“I’ll help you,” Walter replied.
There was a commotion in the hallway, laughter and stumbling. Darrell’s voice, then Chad, Spencer, Josh, and Lucy. They got to the door and Triston let out a sigh as he searched for the remote control. He found it just in time to pause the show before they burst through the doorway. Darrell was the only sober one. They turned on the lights further breaking the illusion, the common feeling.
Spencer, Josh, and Darrell went to the kitchen while Chad and Lucy made their way into the living room where she helped him to the couch then sat beside him, between him and Triston. She looked to the two young men who stared back at her. She saw their diapers and smiled.
“I want to have another child one of these days,” she said.
Spencer had spotted him from a distance and pulled to the curb. Chad had sounded desperate on the phone and deeply saddened as if someone had died. They looked to each other and Chad pushed away from the building and walked to Spencer’s car where he got in on the passenger side but didn’t speak even as he buckled his seat belt and Spencer pulled into traffic.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Spencer asked.
“Well, do you remember how I told you about that guy at work?”
“The one who called you fire crotch,” Spencer answered.
“Exactly, well, I punched him. He had it coming. He was on me, like literally, over my shoulder. He was really getting to me and he knew it. I shoved him away and he shoved back. He wanted it. I just hit him and he went down. I don’t think he expected that, to go down so easily. I think he’s going to sue the department.”
“Really?”
Chad nodded.
“I’ve been suspended and maybe I’ll be fired. There’s a union and some of the guys are on my side as witnesses but it’s so frustrating.”
“Do you even want to go back?”
“What? What are you saying?”
“I just, I mean, it seems like you didn’t really enjoy it, being a cop. I mean your wife said the guys were kind of assholes and you didn’t get along with them and I mean I never heard you really talk about liking it. You liked the idea of it but being a cop, dealing with your coworkers.”
“I’m too sober for this,” Chad said.
“Me too,” Spencer said. “How about a night of drinking? You call Lucy and I’ll call the guys.”
Minutes later they were back at the apartment building where Spencer parked in the guest area and they were headed up to the guys’ apartment. Lucy was there in the hallway playing a game on her phone.
“I managed to find a sitter,” she said. “I kind of had feeling, a hope, this might happen.”
Spencer walked to the door, unlocked it with his key, and opened it. Inside he was surprised at the sight of Walter and Bobby in the kitchen.
Walter stood in his diaper at the kitchen counter. Bobby was beside him in a matching one. They were making vodka and orange juice screwdrivers.
Chad stepped into the apartment and looked to the young men who looked back over their shoulders and smiled.
“It’s a party thing,” Spencer said.
“Sorry I didn’t get the notice or I would have worn my onesie,” Chad said.
“Really?” Spencer asked.
“No, I don’t have a onesie. I sleep naked.”
Spencer looked away to the padded, covered asses of the two young men, cleared his throat and coughed.
“We’re going out for a drink,” Spencer said. “It’s kind of an emergency. Chad might get fired from his job.”
“Who all is going?” Walter asked.
“Me, Darrell, Chad, Josh, and Lucy... uh, Triston is going to stay here and I guess Bobby is staying too.”
Walter shrugged his shoulders.
“Hey, look I’m sorry, really it’s an emergency thing, but, I got you a present,” Spencer said.
He opened his satchel bag and pulled out a wrapped, small gift which he gave to Walter who immediately opened it to find a small, thin but ornate book.
“Leaves of Grass?” Walter asked.
“Walt Whitman,” Spencer said. “Super gay, lots of writing about naked young men and vulnerability.”
“Thanks,” Walter said.
“No problem,” Spencer said.
Walter added it to the pile of birthday cards he had received from each of the guys, his parents, and friends. It wasn’t long before the four of them were leaving, taking with them for a moment all of the energy from the room. Walter looked down to his drink, to Bobby, and then to Triston.
“Hey, we can still have fun,” Triston said.
“Yeah, no problem,” Walter said. I should be used to this by now, he thought.
Hours later, Walter was on his stomach staring up at the television. Beside him Bobby was on his back also trying to watch but clearly more intoxicated. Triston sat in on the couch behind them focused on the screen as well. They were all in a warm, dark comfort. A now familiar jazz style theme song played from the speakers.
“I don’t know how I let you talk me into wearing this thing,” Bobby said.
“I dared you,” Walter said.
“I mean it’s kind of like thick briefs. They cover all of the same areas but it’s different.”
“You can take it off if you want,” Walter said.
“No, I’m okay,” Walter said. “I’m drunk enough I might just pee in it. It’ll make it easier.”
“Well, I’m not cleaning it up,” Triston said.
“I’ll help you,” Walter replied.
There was a commotion in the hallway, laughter and stumbling. Darrell’s voice, then Chad, Spencer, Josh, and Lucy. They got to the door and Triston let out a sigh as he searched for the remote control. He found it just in time to pause the show before they burst through the doorway. Darrell was the only sober one. They turned on the lights further breaking the illusion, the common feeling.
Spencer, Josh, and Darrell went to the kitchen while Chad and Lucy made their way into the living room where she helped him to the couch then sat beside him, between him and Triston. She looked to the two young men who stared back at her. She saw their diapers and smiled.
“I want to have another child one of these days,” she said.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Ch 22 - One of Many
Just hearing the name of the group caused Josh to tense up, LGBT Survivors of Domestic Abuse. It meant, it defined, some part of his life that he wanted to avoid. He didn’t want to feel anything about that. He wanted it to be over. His body healed. He had moved out. He was starting over. And yet it ran through him deep like a sword had been cut down through his body, seeing the sign made him feel from his brain down to his gut. If he went inside he would be... it would define...
He wanted to run away. He wanted to find comfort some other place and yet he stopped himself because of his friend, his roommate, who was standing only a few feet away ready to go into his own meeting, LGBT Partners of Survivors of Domestic Abuse. Even though he wasn’t actually his partner, he had volunteered to go.
They would part ways, listen, maybe even talk, and then it would be over and they could walk away together, go out to dinner, but most likely go home. God he wanted to go home. They had taken to marathons of Queer as Folk and eating ice cream just about every other weekday evening. It had become some bonding time and it was nice to be with another man, intimate but not sexual or physical, just to have someone there.
He took a deep breath, wiped his hands on his jeans, and entered the room. Simon watched him as if he were sending a child off to school before he went to his own door, his own room where he thought about the lies he might have to tell, but it wasn’t difficult imagining being in a relationship with Josh. Sometimes he imagined going on vacation, sometimes being in bed in the morning.
Josh found a chair in the circle where people had already begun to sit. Some talked to each other, some got coffee or a cup of water. He thought get himself something to drink but his feet wouldn’t move. They were stuck to the floor, his knees were locked, so he let himself be as everyone else found their place and then the group leader began. He zoned out as the man began to talk, introduction, expectation, group dynamics, retraumatization, and PTSD. He logged everything somewhere in his brain for use later until the circle was opened for discussion.
He shifted on his seat. He put his hands in his pockets. And he waited. It wasn’t long for someone to speak up but as soon as the person started talking he felt unable to concentrate. His courage left him and he was struggling to breath. He closed his eyes. He was in a room with people and it felt like his skin was being ripped away. He felt vulnerable and raw. If someone touched him he thought he was going to cry, at least flinch and run away. He wanted to leave but their judgement stopped him. He inhaled deeply and held it.
Release, then do it again, he told himself. Eventually he felt himself relaxing. His heart slowed, his pulse slowed, one after the other until he could open his eyes and look around at the other people, most of whom avoided eye contact, only a few smiled back at him. He felt relaxed as he thought of Simon in the other room probably going through the same thing. He thought about being with Simon afterwards and sharing.
Just like that he felt better and he slipped his hands from his pockets and laid them on his thighs. Time slowed as more people spoke. It wasn’t boring. It was significant. They shared their thoughts and feelings. They shared their stories. And just when he thought about speaking and introducing himself it was over.
The group leader announced the end of the meeting. Everyone began to move their chair to the wall and he did the same but after he had placed it there he moved to avoid anyone else until he was in the hallway and then he was looking for Simon who was emerging from his own room. They moved to each other.
“Hey, are you okay?” Simon asked.
“Fine,” Josh said. “Why?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Simon said.
“Really? No, I feel okay. Really, I do. I’m fine.”
“Did you want to go out or go home?”
“Go home,” Josh said.
“I’ll order when we’re close. I’m starved. How about you?”
“Desperately,” Josh said.
The drive back was easy. Simon parked in his usual spot and they walked back to his apartment without speaking. Inside Josh spotted the clock on the wall. It had only been an hour and half of his time and yet it felt like something else. He laughed to himself and shook his head.
How could something so brief feel so immense when he didn't really do anything?
He wanted to run away. He wanted to find comfort some other place and yet he stopped himself because of his friend, his roommate, who was standing only a few feet away ready to go into his own meeting, LGBT Partners of Survivors of Domestic Abuse. Even though he wasn’t actually his partner, he had volunteered to go.
They would part ways, listen, maybe even talk, and then it would be over and they could walk away together, go out to dinner, but most likely go home. God he wanted to go home. They had taken to marathons of Queer as Folk and eating ice cream just about every other weekday evening. It had become some bonding time and it was nice to be with another man, intimate but not sexual or physical, just to have someone there.
He took a deep breath, wiped his hands on his jeans, and entered the room. Simon watched him as if he were sending a child off to school before he went to his own door, his own room where he thought about the lies he might have to tell, but it wasn’t difficult imagining being in a relationship with Josh. Sometimes he imagined going on vacation, sometimes being in bed in the morning.
Josh found a chair in the circle where people had already begun to sit. Some talked to each other, some got coffee or a cup of water. He thought get himself something to drink but his feet wouldn’t move. They were stuck to the floor, his knees were locked, so he let himself be as everyone else found their place and then the group leader began. He zoned out as the man began to talk, introduction, expectation, group dynamics, retraumatization, and PTSD. He logged everything somewhere in his brain for use later until the circle was opened for discussion.
He shifted on his seat. He put his hands in his pockets. And he waited. It wasn’t long for someone to speak up but as soon as the person started talking he felt unable to concentrate. His courage left him and he was struggling to breath. He closed his eyes. He was in a room with people and it felt like his skin was being ripped away. He felt vulnerable and raw. If someone touched him he thought he was going to cry, at least flinch and run away. He wanted to leave but their judgement stopped him. He inhaled deeply and held it.
Release, then do it again, he told himself. Eventually he felt himself relaxing. His heart slowed, his pulse slowed, one after the other until he could open his eyes and look around at the other people, most of whom avoided eye contact, only a few smiled back at him. He felt relaxed as he thought of Simon in the other room probably going through the same thing. He thought about being with Simon afterwards and sharing.
Just like that he felt better and he slipped his hands from his pockets and laid them on his thighs. Time slowed as more people spoke. It wasn’t boring. It was significant. They shared their thoughts and feelings. They shared their stories. And just when he thought about speaking and introducing himself it was over.
The group leader announced the end of the meeting. Everyone began to move their chair to the wall and he did the same but after he had placed it there he moved to avoid anyone else until he was in the hallway and then he was looking for Simon who was emerging from his own room. They moved to each other.
“Hey, are you okay?” Simon asked.
“Fine,” Josh said. “Why?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Simon said.
“Really? No, I feel okay. Really, I do. I’m fine.”
“Did you want to go out or go home?”
“Go home,” Josh said.
“I’ll order when we’re close. I’m starved. How about you?”
“Desperately,” Josh said.
The drive back was easy. Simon parked in his usual spot and they walked back to his apartment without speaking. Inside Josh spotted the clock on the wall. It had only been an hour and half of his time and yet it felt like something else. He laughed to himself and shook his head.
How could something so brief feel so immense when he didn't really do anything?
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