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 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.

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?