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.

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.

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?

Ch 21 - Josh and Spencer Sitting in a Tree

The patio of the coffee shop was empty so Chad and Spencer could choose any place they wanted but ended up looking at each other a little confused as they waited for the other to make the first move.  Finally Spencer took the initiative and lead the way to the back area hoping that if other people arrived they’d take seats far away to keep some space and privacy.

Spencer felt strange being out with his straight friend in such a casual way.  Would people confuse them for a couple?  Would they suspect Chad was gay?  Spencer thought of a few people, like his ex-boyfriend, who he’d like to see him with Chad, his broad shoulders and chest, narrow waist.

They worked themselves into the chairs at the table and pulled the lids off their drinks.  It was Saturday and they were both skipping going to the gym.

“Still having problems at work?” Spencer asked.

“Work is going okay, it’s not what I expected after three years.  The guys are kind of harsh and some of them really like to try and get under your skin.  There’s one guy who keeps calling me fire crotch.  He points at me in the showers.  It’s kind of ridiculous.”

“Aw, he has a crush on you,” Spencer said.

Chad rolled his eyes.

“If only, at least then I’d know how to deal with that.”

“What?  How do you deal with that?”

“Tease him a little, make him desperate, and tell him only if he behaves himself.”

“Now you’re fucking with me,” Spencer said.

“Of course I am.  But it’s really annoying.  The other day I caught myself making a fist.  It ruined the first hour of my shift.”

“And nobody wants an angry cop,” Spencer said.

“What’s new with you?” Chad asked.

“Not much, I’ve got a new roommate now.  It’s only temporary I think.  He’s getting out of an abusive relationship,” Spencer said.

“Gay or straight?” Chad asked.

“Gay,” Spencer said, “they were together for nearly two years.  I guess it started just after they started living together... you don’t want to hear this.”

“Tell me,” Chad said.  “I didn’t think that kind of stuff happened.  It’s not really talked about.”

“Just the usual stuff, small at first and now, he said he just hates going home.  He’d rather be at work.”

“That’s pretty crazy.  Is he a nice guy?”

“Yeah, he’s great.  We had some problems at first but we worked them out.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.  This is weird talking to you.”

“We’re friends,” Chad said.

“I think I’m developing a crush on him.  He’s cute and all but there’s something else.  He’s funny, he cooks, and he’s younger and he’s so much fun.”

“He has fun because he’s young,” Chad said.

“Maybe, I don’t know.  He’s just a fun guy.  My last boyfriend was a drag.  I mean he could be fun but he was moody, temperamental.  With Josh it’s different.  And just being around him all of the time it’s like I can smell him now in my apartment.”

“You want to have sex with him don’t you?” Chad asked.

“Yeah, but it’s not like that, I mean it would be wrong.  I feel like I’d be taking advantage of him on the rebound like that.”

“Maybe you could be what he needs,” Chad said.  “At least he got out.  I hate being called back to the same houses for the same reasons.  I’ve never been called to a gay domestic abuse case though, it’s not something I would want to do.”

“But what would it be like to date him knowing his past?”

“Everyone has a past,” Chad said.

“True,” Spencer said.

“Is he seeing a therapist or going to a support group?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer replied.

“You should encourage him, support him emotionally so he can do it.  It helps.”

“You should be a counselor or something with all of this advice,” Spencer said.

“I just know my job.  I see how people are.  The ones who get help make it out.”

“What about you?  Are you going to get help?”

“What, you mean that asshole at work?  Getting human resources or the union involved in something like this... I’d be laughed out of my job.  I mean I’ve put up with lots of stuff from the guys and it usually wears off.  If you roll with it a little then it doesn’t seem as much fun anymore.”

Spencer looked to his latte and sighed.  Maybe people can’t see their own situations for what they are, he thought.  He looked to Chad who cracked his knuckles and scratched at his jaw as he looked around and out into the parking lot.  There was something there, something to be said, but he wasn’t sure he was the person to do it or what to say.

Ch 20 - Helping Josh Move

All six of them stood in the small lobby area of Josh’s former apartment building holding flattened moving boxes.  The place was clean and maintained but in a haphazard kind of way.  Old fixtures, hinges, and doors had been moved, removed, and replaced.  Josh checked his mailbox for any last mail that might have been sent to the address after he submitted the change of address form, there was always something.  He put Paul’s mail back in the box and locked it.

“I’m not sure we need this many people.  I don’t have that much,” Josh said.

“You’re my roommate now,” Spencer said.

“I said I’d help when you told me you had to move out,” Triston replied.

“And see I know that Spencer doesn’t lift anything heavier than his cell phone at the gym,” Darrell said.

“I was told we were going drinking,” Bobby said.

There was a pause.

“I didn’t have anything better to do.”

They looked to Walter.

“What?”

Josh coughed and stepped between the men to the stairs where he led them up three flights and down a hallway.

“See this is why we brought extra people,” Darrell said to Bobby who walked beside him running a finger along the wall.

Walter was the last.  He walked with one hand in the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt wary of getting too close to the banister that seemed too short, to bent to be of any good to a person.

Josh opened his apartment door slowly to be greeted by the wet nose of Paul’s dog but he knew the dog was friendly and ushered the guys inside to the living room where they stopped just a few inches away from each other.

Right there in the kitchen was Paul.  He was leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed, an intense and serious look on his face.  On the counter was a partially made sandwich with carrot and celery sticks on the side, an open beer beside the plate.

“Hello,” Paul said.

The men muttered a response but only Darrell and Triston looked to him directly.  Bobby found himself trying to politely ward the dog away from his crotch.  And Spencer tried to stop himself from grinding his teeth and making a fist with his hand.

“Hi Paul,” Josh said.

They looked across the space to each other but neither of them moved.  Finally Josh broke the stare and the silence.

“I don’t have much in the living room, my game system, all the games, and controllers.  I don’t have anything in the kitchen but I should take you into my room.  It’s where I kept all my stuff from my first apartment.”

He led them down the hall to his bedroom door.  He opened it to a stale, cold feeling of a room that had not been used in weeks.  They peeked inside to see they had plenty of work to do.  There was a bed on it’s side with a frame nearby, bookshelves full of movies, books, and CD’s, exercise equipment and a collection of small weights, poster tubes, a tall black dresser, and a small collection of dry cleaned shirts in the closet.

“If you guys want to start on this,” Josh said.

“I’ll get the video game stuff,” Walter said.

“I’ll help him,” Bobby said.

“And I need to get a few things from Paul’s room,” Josh said.

He stepped away from them to the other door and opened it.  There was a familiar sound and the smell of vanilla incense.  He looked to the empty and made bed with tight corners and no lines.  He thought of the times they spent watching television and cuddling in the early morning before work.  He thought about his first morning there and how they felt like adventurers when they raided the refrigerator and had a picnic on the bed.

“Are you okay?” Triston asked.

Josh looked to him and winced.  Triston looked back down the hall, worried that Paul would try to join them, maybe ingratiate himself somehow, or worse start complaining about possession and moving out.

“Need a hug?”

They hugged each other.

In Josh’s former bedroom Darrell worked like a machine to load the DVD’s and books into separate boxes.  He had moved many times in his life and felt that there was a way to do it so nothing got broken.

Spencer had assembled two boxes and opened a dresser drawer to find a collection of underwear.  He looked them over.  There was nothing racy but many of them were old, mostly briefs, a few boxers, straps of a jock.  He felt himself redden just at the sight of them.  He looked to Darrell who was occupied and back inside the drawer.  The waistband on the underwear was small, smaller than his own and he had always been proud of his 34 inch waist.  He shook all thought away, cleared his throat and shoveled them one handful at a time into the box before he moved on to the next drawer.

It wasn’t long before Darrell and Spencer had stacked boxes, Bobby and Walter had collected all the video game items in boxes by the door, and Josh emptied his few drawers in Paul’s room, took down his necklace from the mirror, and double checked the bathroom.  They moved the mattress first.

After they had finished in the living room Paul went in there with his dog to sit and eat.  He was methodical and they were quick.

Finally the last of the boxes were being carried downstairs.  Josh and Triston stood by the front door of the apartment mentally double checking everything.  Triston knew that normally in situations like this the most commonly forgotten things were identification documents but they had already talked it over and Josh’s documents were safely locked in a safety deposit box at a bank.

“Well,” Josh said.


“Well,” Triston replied.

Josh stepped to the archway and looked into the living room.  He wanted to pet the dog.  He wanted to hug and kiss Paul but he knew it was over.  It felt as if the weeks apart had allowed him to form a thin shell around his skin that could break if they touched.

“I’m leaving,” Josh said.

Paul got to his feet and walked to the two men.  He put his hands on his hips.

“Goodbye,” he said.

Ch 19 - Hating Home

Dinner was easy even if they didn’t talk much.  They felt comfortable with each other not saying anything.  They had a few drinks with the meal, walked home, and saw the vodka still on the coffee table so Spencer invited him for a drink.

“I shouldn’t but I really want to,” Josh said.

“A small one,” Spencer said.

They went into the living room and sat.  Spencer poured a drink for each of them, Josh’s first then his own, set down the bottle and picked up his glass.  They clinked them together before touching the glass to their lips.  Josh downed his in gulp and Spencer sipped a little, set it down.

“One thing,” Spencer said.

“What?”

“It’s not for shots.  This is sipping.  It’s top shelf.”

“Really?” Josh asked.

“Here try another one but drink it more slowly this time,” Spencer said.

Spencer poured him another drink and Josh raised it again, they clinked glasses, but this time Josh sipped at the vodka.

“That’s pretty good,” Josh said.

“Thanks,” Spencer said.

“My boyfriend, Paul, likes this kind of stuff.  God, I guess I shouldn’t be calling him my boyfriend, although it’s not official.”

“You moved out,” Spencer said.

“I guess,” Josh said.

“Did you say anything to him?”

“I left him a note,” Josh said.  “It was tough.  We’ve been together over two years.”

Spencer didn’t say anything.  He wanted to say the relationship was over when his boyfriend hit him.  He wanted to say it was over when he moved out.  He wanted to say it was dead and couldn’t be repaired.  He sat back against the sofa, his glass on his thigh he let himself relax.

Josh set his glass on the coffee table and began to run his finger along the lip of the glass.

“I didn’t want to do it.  I feel bad.  I feel like I should have said something but I also kind of feel like both of us knew it was over.  It’s tearing me apart but I shouldn’t hate to go home,” he said.

“You don’t have to,” Spencer said.

It’s easy, he thought, you can be anything you want to be, go anywhere you want to go, and all those lies we tell each other but really a person’s life is small, their group of friends is small, their family... did he have a family?  Were they for him after he came out?

“He’s not a bad guy.  It’s as much my fault as it is his.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s dumb but we’d challenge each other, say stupid things, and you know how there’s some things you know you shouldn’t say but you do it anyways.  I’ve done it.  I’ve said those stupid things.”

“But did you attack him?  Did you actually start the violence?”

Josh clenched his jaw at the thought, at the insinuation.  They had wrestled, struggled, but no he had never hit Paul first, but he did set him off sometimes.  And at first it had been just some small accident but each time the boundary got thinner.  It was some mixture of discipline and humiliation.

“I didn’t start it.  Sometimes I’d hit him back, at first anyway, but then even that got out of control.  I knew he’d win.  I knew he had it in him.  I always restrained myself.”

He thought about when he’d hit Paul back and Paul would return with more force, more intensity.  He thought about the look in the man’s eyes.  He felt like crying but stopped himself.  He didn’t want to show weakness over the man, not here, and not now.

“Hey Josh, you don’t have to go anywhere.  You don’t have to go back.  The pot was a little thing, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but you still owe me one, brand new, no thrift store one with scratches in it.”

Josh let out a nervous laugh.  He downed his drink and set the glass down.  He felt tired and drunk.  He sat back against the sofa.

“I should get up and go finish my workout,” Josh said.

“Why don’t you stay here and watch some television?” Spencer asked.

“That sounds so much better,” Josh said.  He kicked off his shoes and put his socked feet on the coffee table next to the bottle.

Spencer looked to the socked feet.  It was a minor annoyance.  He’d say something later.  He downed his drink, put the glass on the table, and picked up the remote.  He turned on the television and they were both illuminated by the images there.  He looked to Josh.  There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do. 

Was he a wounded puppy?  Was he being too protective?  What was it like to be in a relationship with someone with that kind of past?  But his thoughts were silenced by the alcohol and the sound of the television as he looked up to the screen.

Ch 18 - Minor Things and Deadly Poisons

Before he had a roommate Spencer could expect things to be exactly how he left them when he returned home, the few times he left dishes in the sink at least he knew they were his but living with Josh was different.  Josh was absent minded, though well intentioned, but he forgot things.  Usually it was small things like his phone or his keys, sometimes a pair of scissors or a knife, once a pizza he left in the oven too long though luckily they were both home at the time.

The worst of it was the pot of water he left on the stove top.  Spencer opened the front door of his apartment to an awful smell.  “What the hell?” he said aloud as he entered, conscientious to leave the door open he went into the kitchen where he saw the pot was empty, the bottom and sides had turned white.  He turned off the electric coil and moved the pot.  He let out a grunt of frustration before he looked down the hallway to the closed door of Josh’s room.  He started to walk but thought of a better idea so he retrieved the pot and went to his new roommate’s door.  He knocked as calmly as he could bare.

“Hello?” Josh said from the other side of the door.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah sure,” Josh said.

Spencer opened the door and looked into the room to see Josh on the floor in the middle of doing sit ups.  He was shirtless and his exercise shorts were bunched down around his thighs.  He looked to the young man’s muscled chest and then up to his eyes.  He had seen his friends, many other men naked, in bed, during sex and the locker room but there was still something about him there, real and touchable.  He fought the urge to panic but he realized he wasn’t saying anything at all.  He thought about the dishes in the sink, about the mess on the coffee table.

“What’s up?” Josh asked.

Spencer held up the pot so Josh could see the insides.

“Oh crap,” Josh said, “is it bad?”

“It’s ruined,” Spencer said.

“What’s that smell?”

Spencer turned the pot in his hand.

“Really?” Josh asked.

“Poisonous too,” Spencer said.  “It could have killed you.”

“Really?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.  It supposedly can kill birds.  That doesn’t matter.  We need to talk.”

“Yeah sure,” Josh said.  He began to get to his feet and Spencer turned around and walked back to the entrance where he closed the main door, returned the pot to the stove, and got a bottle of vodka and two glasses that he carried into the living room.

Moments later Josh walked into the living room wearing a sleeveless shirt and nervously biting his lip.  Spencer invited him to sit down on the sofa.

How could we be so different, Spencer asked himself, but then he looked to the young man’s hands, his forearms that were muscled, hard and veiny.  While I was inside on my computer he was out doing something, skateboarding, running, or playing football. 

If they started to talk about sports, but more importantly teams and players Spencer knew he’d be lost and Josh would have the upper hand.  He smiled at Josh who seemed equally anxious, maybe more.

Josh looked as if expected Spencer to strike him, hit him in some way, maybe a slap.  Was that it?  Some regular pattern of hitting the young man, yelling at him maybe, humiliating him maybe that caused him to flinch, to dread being near his boyfriend.

“You owe me a pot,” Spencer said.

“Okay,” Josh said.  He reached down to his socks and pulled at them, ran his fingers up to his shorts, pulled at them.

“I’m not mad, not really, kind of annoyed,” Spencer said.  “I’m pretty sure one of us could have been killed by it.”

“I wasn’t thinking.  I just got into my routine.  I’ll pay for a new pot.”

“Good,” Spencer said.  “But uh, I think we should let the place air out.  Would you want to join me for some dinner?”

 “Yeah, that would be great, let me put some clothes on,” Josh said.

Josh got up and walked back to his room.  Spencer heard the door close and he slapped his own forehead.  The dishes, the mess, he told himself, when he comes out, when he’s got some clothes on then I’ll say something to him over dinner.

Ch 17 - Domestic Abuse

Early Saturday morning, Spencer, Triston, Bobby, Darrell, and Walter sat quietly in the diner booth looking at the food that had just been delivered.  Bobby had been graphically describing his new boyfriend’s genitals when he spotted the waitress headed their way and stopped.  There was no one else nearby and at first he had waited for her to leave but then they fell into silence as they looked over their food.  It was recovery food for everyone except Darrell who hadn’t been drinking. 

“What were we talking about?” Darrell asked.

“My boyfriend’s balls,” Bobby said.

“So he’s an athlete?” Spencer asked.

Each of them laughed a little.  There was a lull in the conversation, in movement, but finally Walter picked up his fork and stabbed it into the chili cheese fries he had ordered.

“Somehow it doesn’t look as good as it sounded,” Walter said.

“Do you want my pancakes?” Bobby offered.  “I shouldn’t have ordered so many carbs.”

“Still trying to keep that six-pack?” Triston asked.

“I’m going for an eight,” Bobby said.  “He loves to play with them.”

“I’m not this hungry,” Spencer said.

They looked around at each other.  Triston leaned on the table with his elbow and scratched at his scalp, clearly irritated.

“What’s wrong?  We can get it to go.  Maybe give it to a homeless person,” Spencer said.

“Nothing, it’s just I have this friend and he’s trying to get out of an abusive relationship,” Triston said.

“Damn,” Spencer said.

“And he’s gay?” Walter asked.

“Yeah,” Triston said.

“Really?”

“Yes, really, he’s gay. Gay people can be in abusive relationships,”


Walter looked around at the other men.  It was something that had never occurred to him.  Being gay was hard enough, getting into a relationship was supposed to be the reward.  But abusive?

“You did know that it can happen right?” Darrell asked.

Walter nodded.

“Really?” Bobby asked.

“No,” Walter said before letting out a nervous laugh.  “I mean, I didn’t think. That’s messed up.”

“Who?”

“You guys haven’t met him. I know him from the store. He’s a really nice guy.”

“How can we help?” Darrell asked.

“Well, he needs a place to stay,” Triston said.

“He can stay with us,” Darrell said, “on the couch.”

“It would be crowded,” Bobby said.

“We could manage,” Darrell said.

“He can stay with me, at my place,” Spencer said.

They all looked to him.  Spencer had been living alone longer than they had been friends.  He bragged about having his own dorm room in college.  The few nights, the few mornings he spent with them was an act of convenience, some act of desperation. 

“Really,” Spencer said.  “And I promise I won’t creep him out.”

They stared.

“Too much,” he said, “I promise I’ll wear my underwear in the morning.”

“That’s more than you do for us,” Triston said.

It was an agreement Spencer felt proud about as they went to bed, when they woke up, and even when Triston called the man in question.  They agreed that Triston would bring him to Spencer’s apartment that evening. 

Spencer went home hours earlier than normal to clean up.  He made sure the last load of dishes was in the dishwasher, his bed was made, the coffee table orderly, the bathroom was scrubbed, and there was nothing embarrassing under any of the furniture in his living room.  He was ready fifteen minutes before they were supposed to meet.  When he got the text message from Triston saying they were running late he rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans nervously before pouring himself a drink, then feeling self-conscious he downed it, washed out the glass, and returned everything to normal before he went into the living room and sat on his couch.

A little while later there was a knock on the door and he got to his feet, double checked everything mentally before he opened the door to find Triston in the hallway with a backpack standing next to a handsome young man carrying a duffel bag.

“Hey Spence,” Triston said.

“Hey,” Spencer said.

“I’m Josh,” the young man said offering his hand.

They shook hands and Spencer invited them inside, directed them to set the bags down against the wall before they went into the living room to sit.  Spencer had expected him to look wounded, to have a black eye, busted lip, or maybe a visible scar but he didn’t.  Josh was handsome, young, and masculine.  He moved with a prepared, self-conscious effort.  There was something naive, even innocent about him.  It was hard to believe someone could mistreat him, abuse him. 

They talked for an hour about life, the world, and their jobs in a circular introduction.  Josh was quick to ask either of them a question and listen to the response.  Spencer and Triston felt comfortable with each other, joked with each other, and it was easy to respond, to pontificate until either of them ran out of steam, found that he was dominating the conversation and so he would think of something to ask, something to say and wait. 

After they felt like they had introduced themselves they talked about house rules, obligations, and responsibilities.  Spencer was surprised that Josh would be up earlier than him because he worked the morning shift as a barista as well as a lunch shift at a restaurant across town.  He said he’d have to get used to the new bus routes but he’d survive.  They talked a little about their jobs until it felt complete.  They looked around at each other.

“Want to watch some television?” Spencer asked.

“Sure,” Josh said.