CHAPTER ONE: REFLECTIONS and DECISIONS
JUSTIN:
It’s unbelievable to think that we are back together. I stayed with Ethan for six months after the Rage party. Honestly, I can’t say that I wouldn’t still be with him if he hadn’t fucked up as he had. It’s not that I loved him; I gave away my heart a long time ago to the man snoozing beside me. But it’s more about what Ethan offered me: monogamy, sweet words that for some reason I needed to hear, and most of all, a break from what had become my reality. Between the constant tricking and Michael's chronic whining demands, I just needed… something more, something different. It’s hard to explain, but being with Brian just became too hard for a while, even if that’s all I ever wanted to do. I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin, and was confused within my own mind. It’s no wonder that I couldn’t read him anymore, and that scared me.
You see, the thing about Brian is that he’s the very personification of the adage actions speak louder than words. When I think of all that he’s done for me, both willingly and reluctantly since I met him, I knew that he cared a great deal for me. I mean, I can’t imagine any other guy going to the lengths Brian has gone to make me feel whole again after Chris Hobbs smashed my self-image at the crack of a baseball bat. The fact that, at Mom’s behest, he took me back in to nurse and nurture me back to a state of wellness was huge. It was that act alone which should have proved to everyone that Brian was not the selfish asshole certain members of the family call him. Looking back on it now, I can’t understand why I was given a free pass to be as fucked up as they claimed him to be, yet they blamed him for everything. And worst of all, is that he just took what they said as gospel. It still pisses me off.
Anyway, at the time that I basically begged him for the words I most wanted to hear, I felt that I had lost myself entirely. I just needed to know that I was different than the others, that I meant something to him, and that he was still my anchor. I just needed to know that I was different from all the rest of the tricks Michael constantly refered to me as when he thought I couldn’t hear him. After all, he needed me to work on Rage, and calling me that to my face would have killed the comic instantly. It still should have, but due to the trauma of the bashing I was actually starting to believe he was right. How could I have explained all of this to Brian when at the time I couldn’t even make myself believe I was more than that? Strangely, it took Ethan cheating on me- or more accurately, breaking his promise of monogamy to me- for me to remember just who I was. I was, and am, Brian’s partner in all things, whether he admits it or not. I’m his equal in all the ways that matter. Now the question is, how do I make him see it?
BRIAN:
I wonder what he’s thinking. The hyperactive hamsters in his head woke me up with their constant rattling and racing around. It’s strange, but I’ve come to acknowledge that Justin and I have this interminable connection. It allows me to know when he’s restless, even if he gives no overt indication that he is. It’s how I knew we were ending before the signs ever began to show. On the surface, I understand why the fiddler happened. Justin was discontent with the way things were between us. I wasn’t blind, nor deaf, especially in the silent moments. So Michael telling me that Justin was cheating didn’t come as so much of a shock as it might have to another person. But that knowledge didn’t stop the hurt.
Yes, I can admit it now that I was hurt. It seemed that with all of the actions to make him feel safe and whole again, I’d forgotten one thing about Justin. He needed words. It wasn’t just a bone-deep need for communication; it was that he wasn’t able to read me anymore. I guess his stint into the Land of Bad Decisions should have been my first clue. Becoming a dancer at Babylon was just such a moment. Then there were our rules, which would have been okay if we were really ready for them. The one good part of it was that my lips haven’t touched any other man’s but his, and strangely, I don’t miss that. But the rest… yeah, we- or more accurately, he- wasn’t ready for it. I can’t help but wonder if he is now.
The thing is, I don’t want to share him right now. We’ve just gotten back together… another thing that I’ve recently been able to admit, if only to myself, is that Justin and I were in a relationship. We still are, but Justin and I literally fell into a relationship the first time, even if I was and still am a little reluctant to call it that outside of the confines of my mind. Neither of us were prepared for all that meant to our existence as we had known it. He was young and inexperienced; I was older but just as inexperienced, at least emotionally. No locks on the doors ensured that he would always be as free as I was to make the best decisions for himself. Sadly, that theory also took him away from me as a long-ago trick predicted. ‘The thing about leaving the door open is that anyone can get in… or out’ he told me, and that little slimy fucker Ian had crept his little scuzzbucket ass right in and sucked Sunshine into his web of lies. It was definitely a lesson both hard-learned and received in one of the most humiliating of ways. I blame myself for that. In forcing Justin to make a decision, I made the ultimate sacrifice. I traded his happiness for my own. Something Justin would have never asked me to do, but I did anyway.
So, whereas I am ready to try this thing again with him full-on, I have to wonder if he wants to. Right now, we’re solid. We haven’t talked, but we know what to expect of each other. Is it too soon to start putting stipulations when in reality this is still so new?
“Why aren’t you still asleep?” He asks me.
“With your tossing and turning, how could you expect me to be?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“I know, Justin. So what is it?”
“It?”
I turn on my side to look at him as he’s still laying on his back staring up at the ceiling. “You really going to make me ask?”
He sighs deeply then. “I just…”
“Spit it out. One of the things we expect… Actually we’ve always expected, is honesty from each other.”
“But I’ve lied, Brian.”
“With words, yes you did,” I tell him, not giving him an inch to hide behind. “But it wasn’t only in what you said, Sunshine, but what you didn’t.”
“A lie is still a lie, whether admitted, committed, or omitted, right?”
“That’s right. So again, what’s bothering you?”
“You first.”
“But I asked, so you have to answer.”
“What are we? Twelve?”
“Well you’re closer to that age than I am, so spill.”
He rolls his eyes at me, and I’m tempted to spank him. He huffs, “Fine, but can we go over to the…”
He closes his eyes as he suddenly remembers that we no longer have a sofa. That’s right. Justin and I got back together and now we’re broke together. Thank God, I’d paid off my loft long before Jim Stockwell happened and I lost my job at Vanguard. And yet, looking at him lying here next to me, I don’t regret any of it. He was right when he said that if you believe in something, you have to be willing to sacrifice everything. Somehow, I get the feeling now that he wasn’t just talking about Stockwell and the Concerned Citizens for Truth episode of our lives, but how we are now. Justin doesn’t allow me to wallow in self-pity or regrets; he doesn’t allow me to get down on myself because saving our way of life here on Liberty Avenue has cost me everything; and he most certainly doesn’t let me remember the halcyon days of when I had money to burn and spend. He insists that we live in the now, and redefine what that means. To redesign our lives the way we want them, and to rebuild in whatever way that means for us. I have begun to accept that there isn’t an ‘I’ or ‘you’ between us anymore. We’re both invested in this, which is more than I can say for my supposed best friends.
Is it strange that I haven’t heard from Michael once since I lent him my car to save the littlest hustler from his very own Mommy Dearest? Nor have I heard the ever-growing litany from Lindsay of Gus’ needs, even in terms of saving money by letting me be Gus’ personal daycare while I’m currently unemployed? Ted’s defection, I can understand, since he’s away getting clean. Even Em’s I can understand, since he’s trying to redesign his life after living with an addict for a time. But unlike Michael or Lindsay, Emmett has called. Even Melanie has called to ask if we need anything, and at least has arranged a little Gus time with Justin and I. Deb and Vic drop by with food, and dessert for Justin, which I snatch a bite or two from. So why haven’t the self-proclaimed sentinels of all things Brian Kinney made their appearances? My guess is that there is nothing I can do for them now. The fact that I’m one-hundred thousand dollars in debt saving their rights from a modern day Hitler should have been enough but... well that’s that, I guess. But back to the matter at hand…
“Tell you what, Sunshine. Let’s grab the blankets and a couple of pillows then sit in the alcove of the window. It may not be as comfortable as the sofa, but if we’re going to talk, being in a bed with you is not going to be conducive to that.”
“Wordlessly, he gets up grabbing the pillows and comforter off the bed. After a trip to the bathroom, I go to the linen closet and grab an extra sheet and the duvet from our first night together. We haven’t used it much in the last year, but I think it’s befitting at this juncture. If Justin and I are going to have the kind of conversation I want to, we might as well have an item from where it all began. Sentimental, I know, but don’t tell anyone.
By the time I make it out to the living room, he already has coffee brewing. Thank God for Mother Taylor! She knew that us not having a coffee maker was a recipe for major disaster. If there is one thing that Justin and I cannot be, it’s uncaffeinated. In addition to that key item, she also gave us computer to go along with the one I had bought Justin and paid for our internet service for the next six months. She said that it wasn’t as much as she’d like to do for us, but it was at least a start.
As for Deb- she, Mel, and Vic are the only other people to know what Justin and I did regarding Stockwell, and they promised to keep it quiet. We weren’t looking for notoriety or gratitude, just the selfish right to be able live life as we wanted. The way we see it, we’re not looking to become like the heteros, but we’re not going to let anyone hinder those that want to. At base, that’s the reason why we did what we did; to not let anyone make our community feel like less than what we are… humans!
Justin hands me my coffee and then settles into our favorite talk position. He’d already moved the crate, which has been serving as our coffee table, closer so we can sit the beverages down when we need to. I take a moment to settle the heavy blankets around us, making sure that his right hand is covered. He still has trouble with it when it gets cold and I don’t want any unnecessary distractions while we figure out what we want to do. Of course if his hand still cramps up due to stress, that’s something that can’t be helped. But at least taking precautions now lessens the likelihood of that happening.
“So what did you want to talk about?” he asks me, staring out of the window. I’m not sure if it’s at the moonlight reflecting off the river, or at our reflections.
“What’s bothering you.”
“It’s nothing really…”
“But?”
“I just…”
“Okay. Let me start with this,” I suggest, when I know he’s struggling. He does that sometimes when he doesn’t know how I’m going to take what he needs to say. All I can think is when did that start and how the fuck do I stop it? So taking deep breath, I say the words that I never in a million years thought I would. “I want us to try monogamy...”