A Captivating Coupling

Chapter Six: Maybe Baby, I Love You

Brian’s P.O.V.

February 7, 1997

Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ~ Elizabeth Stone

A month has passed since I've been here with Justin. Every day that I’ve been stuck here has been a little different from the one before. I wouldn’t have expected that. I was afraid that I’d get so bored and that life would become so monotonous that I’d go crazy from endless, indistinguishable days.

The first night, Justin slept on my chest, his rhythmic breath, moist and warm against my skin, luring me into a peaceful state of mind. I lay still; looking up to the canopy, the silver thread in the blue linen shimmered in the soft glow of the light beside the bed. It was almost like looking at distant stars, glowing in a night sky. I realized in that moment how at peace I felt, away from the world.

It was an odd realization and one in which I fought. I listed off things in my head, a hundred things about the outside world that I would miss and the people I already missed. Then, Justin stirred and he whispered my name as he gripped my body tighter for a few seconds before falling back into a peaceful sleep. I watched him for a few minutes and then looked back up at the fabric. I saw the canopy differently then.

It wasn’t like looking at a night sky. It was an interpretation of one, carefully designed by Justin’s imagination. I wondered how many nights he looked up at it and pretended he was home with his family. That brought on a completely new level of questions I had, of feelings that bubbled up from inside me.

I knew that I couldn’t change what Justin had been through before they took me. I knew that I couldn’t even begin to access how his kidnapping emotionally stunted and damaged him. However, I knew that I would have to try to put aside my own wants, demons and misgivings to provide Justin with the love and companionship he’d been deprived of. I knew that I would have to open myself up, forget about my pride, and become the man Justin needed me to be. I would also have to learn survival skills from him, and show him a few of my own.

Sure, we have everything here we might need. We’re not dying in the middle of the desert and we have the opportunity to create our own little, moderately safe, world. However, emotionally, it’s going to be a completely different plain of thinking and doing. I was glad I realized that, the first night, because I mentally prepared myself as much as I could for the downpour that was to come.

At first, our days seemed to be exciting from the moment we awoke until bed. I even felt excited to wake up every morning, something that I didn’t feel at home. We’d fuck, as soon as our eyes opened. Justin was so eager to learn new things about sex and he was such a quick study, he blew my mind.

The time in between sex, has been weird. Justin of course, wants to know everything about me. If we’re not fucking, he’s asking me questions about the outside world and me. It’s somewhat weird telling him about what he’s missed. He cries a lot, he’s confused a lot, and sometimes I just want to stop talking and answering his questions because of how much it hurts him. I usually redirect the conversation back on my life, my life before him and me.

It’s so hard seeing him so upset that I actually want to talk about me. This is something I loathe to do, but understand is necessary not only to divert his attention from his pain, but to allow him an inside look at myself no one else has ever gotten. I have to do it, because he will soon be carrying my child. No matter what happens, if one day Justin decides that his feelings for me manifested only from the fear of loneliness, our child will still connect us. He should know the man that is his child’s father. Just as I want to know him.

You wouldn’t believe it, but Justin is a lot harder to get to know than myself. Seriously, he is. You know why? Because he’s so damn transparent with everything he says and does, and since I’ve been here, it’s all been about me. What I want. What I feel. What I need. Everything he says, when I ask him a question, is turned around into what he thinks I want to hear. He wants to keep me happy, he wants to make me love him; make sure that I love him, even though I already do.

Sure, it may not yet be the love that he imagines, the kind of love that I never wanted but now can admit it may turn into. But, I do love him.

I love him enough to not allow him to read the books I’ve written. He wants to, he’s begged to read them, but I want to spare him of the cruel words I’ve written in them. I know he’d forgive me for the callous attitude I have toward sex in those books, but I don’t want to shatter what is left of his innocence. Maybe I’m selfish, but I love the innocence he’s managed to retain.

I have learned a little about Justin’s life before the kidnapping. He told me about attending a private school for gifted students. He could still recite the schools theme song and gave me a sample of his beautiful singing voice. I've asked him to sing for me again, but he refuses, stating that it’s been far too long since he had regular vocal training and that he doesn’t want to subject me to his bad voice.

He doesn’t have a bad voice. Believe me. It’s probably the best I ever heard and I wish I could hear it more often.

The memories Justin has, have become foggy to him. He admitted that he doesn't remember exact faces, places or his exact address. He has stacks of notebooks he’s kept nearly daily diaries in since he was taken that he informed me has the address in it. I haven’t asked, but I hope that one day soon he’ll trust me to read them. I want to know him and I don’t think I can the way I should, if he’s so worried about pleasing me.

Justin had a routine before I came. He would wake up, feed Duchess, have breakfast, read books or do ‘homework’, watch a Disney movie while playing with his cat, eat lunch while watching another, paint or sketch, clean, play with Duchess again, have dinner, take a bath and then watch a movie or read before bed.

Of course, that seemed monotonous to me, so after the first week, he became as spontaneous with his days as I was. Besides the spontaneous sex, Justin will stop what he’s doing and suddenly want to sketch me. He tells me each time how exited he is to have a real subject and draws me, and sometimes me with Duchess, quite often.

I learned that Justin schooled himself for years by requesting textbooks and taking distant learning course books. He was very diligent in maintaining his higher intelligence for as long as he was stuck here. He informed me that as of right now, he could have graduated a university three times over with the credits and courses he’s taken.

But I’m the one teaching him about what the kidnappers never let him learn. Sex. Which you’d think would’ve been in nearly every subject but math, but I guess they allowed him to have books from some ultra conservative schools that had nothing about that in them. Though I’m sure, they took that out themselves if they did.

Justin and I spend time acquainting ourselves with one another's likes and dislikes. I had never had to care about another person's feelings or needs so to say it was a learning experience would be an understatement. And, as smart as Justin was, he wasn't quite sure of many of the slang words I used and would take allot of things too literally.

Having fun is much different with Justin from how I’d have fun with my friends. We have a blast reading mystery books to each other and watching Disney Movies, even though he's seen them all. I however have yet to be schooled on all of them. We also play tons of board games. Justin used to play against his dolls or Duchess, but now that he has me, he is overjoyed to have a real person to play them with. Our weekly lists always has some new game that Justin wants to try out he finds in the Toys R' US catalogue.

Most of the time, Justin and I are happy and having fun. We have to be, because I don’t think I can take sitting around thinking about our situation, at least not yet.

It’s mid-afternoon and Justin is beside me on the couch, kissing me, groping my crotch through my sweats. He’s been so horny all morning and I’m about to bring him into the bedroom to teach him a new position, when a knock on our door signals the arrival of our supplies.

“I’ll get it,” I tell him, moving him from my lap to the couch. I walk slowly, waiting to hear the other door close and lock.

Justin giggles, “Hurry back,” as he strokes himself inside his pants.

I open the door that leads to the little area where they delivered our things. The door on the other side is large and steel, imitating a prison door. It is quite menacing and always makes my skin crawl to look at it. As soon as I get the plastic tub inside, I close the door to our apartment, sealing us inside like the prisoners we are once again.

This week Justin only asked for a new deck of cards, not a new board game. The kid kicks my ass in most any card game and the last time we played poker, let’s just says I was a sore loser and slammed my cup of juice down on the table making some spill all over the cards. Justin thought it was hilarious.

“Did they get the new deck of cards?” he asked excitedly, his desire for sex, dampened for just a moment.

“Let’s see,” I reply, setting the box on the bar.

He jumps off the couch, skips over and sits upon one of the bar stools and watches as I opened the box and started to take out its contents.

“Here they are,” I say as I find them I smile as I handed the decks to him. “Now you can kick my ass again.”

“Great!” he giggles. “I can’t wait, and I wanna teach you another game I know, Brian.”

“Okay, later. Let’s put the rest of this away and then I will teach you something that doesn’t require anything but us,” I say suggestively.

It takes him a minute to get my joke and his face blushes. “I look forward to it,” he responds and clears his throat.

We get started on putting the items away. I find the ready-made cookie dough that I'd told Justin about last week when I saw him making chocolate chip cookies from scratch. “Look, this is the cookie dough,” I tell him, handing him the roll.

He looks at the package and smiles at me after reading the directions. “I can't believe I just put them in the oven and it makes a cookie! It’s really that easy?”

“Yup! That's what is says. I’m not a good cook, but even I can make those.” The cookies had been my guilty pleasure at home. Even though I love Justin's cooking, there was nothing like nestle' Tollhouse cookies, made with their precise recipe.

“I’m going to make them tonight,” he tells me. “That is, if you want me to, Brian.”

“Of course,” I tell him. “If you feel like making them. But, if you want, I can make them for you.”

“You want to cook them?” he asks.

I sigh in frustration. “Do you want to cook them, Justin?”

“Sure,” he says, shrugging his shoulders and putting the boxes of cereal in the cabinet.

“Yes, or no?” I ask, trying to keep my aggravation out of my voice. “Do you want to make them?”

“I want you to make them, for me,” he whispers, turning toward me.

I walk toward him and kiss his blushing forehead. “Good,” I say, kissing his lips. “Now come see what I put on the list.” I drag him over to the bar with me and take out two leather bound journals. One is stained red, the other one black.

He looks hesitantly at the red one and looks up at me. “Is one for me?”

“Yes, whatever one you like the best.”

He sighs and runs his fingers over each of the textured covers. “What color do you want?”

I roll my eyes and do my best to speak in a calm voice, “I don’t care. You pick what you want. Don’t think about what one I want because I really don’t care, Justin. I care about you having the one that you want.”

“I like the red one,” he answers, after a moment. He looks up at me, his expression begging for my approval.

“Good, I want you to have what you like best.”

“Thanks Brian,” he says kindly and then looks back in the box.

He sets aside the books on pregnancy, delivery, and parenting. We weren’t sure they would get them for us, or not but I’m relieved they have. Now, we can begin to learn about a subject that is foreign to us both.

There are a few more items, toilet paper, shampoo, dish soap and body wash. I set them all on the counter and next I find a box I at first don’t recognize placed at the bottom.

“What is that?” Justin asks as I pull it out.

On top is a folded note taped to it. I read it aloud, “You will receive one of these each month until it is positive.” HOLY SHIT! It’s time to check already.

“It’s a pregnancy test?” Justin asks, taking the box from me and examining it. “Don't you think it's too soon?”

“I don’t know exactly how they work. It might be, but I think those things can tell as soon as you are pregnant,” I reply. “It detects a hormone or something that is only present if you are pregnant.”

“There are three of them in here,” he tells me, then opens dumps the contents onto the bar. “Do we take them all?”

He looks up at me and his expression is so childlike it is hard for me to believe that I may have made a child with him. “I think so,” I respond to him in a whisper. “Just in case one isn't right. Best two out of three or something,” I reason.

“What do I have to do?” Justin asks me a little worried.

I grab the directions, read them and tell him, “Well, you have to put the sticks in your stream of urine. Do you think you can go to the bathroom right now?”

“Sure!” he says and takes off toward the bathroom with a light skip to his step.

I find myself laughing aloud as I follow behind him, three pregnancy tests in hand. When I get to the bathroom, he’s standing at the toilet with his pants pulled down just past his bubble butt. He idly strokes his cock with one hand and rubs his stomach with the other.

His eyes light up when he turns to look at me and his smile is infectious, his excitement gets under my skin too. I force myself not to think the worst of the outcome of us having a child here, in this place. I won’t think like that. I have to be positive, be happy, because as scared as I am, Justin has to be a lot more frightened. He’s the one that knows nothing about pregnancy or childbirth and what it will actually do to his body.

“Wouldn't it be so neat if there was a baby inside me Brian?” Justin asked while patting his stomach.

So neat? Fuck, he doesn’t sound scared at all. “Yeah,” I answer, not wanting to alarm him. I set the tests down on the back of the toilet. “It will be neat, Justin. But I don't want you to get your hopes up. It may be awhile before I get you pregnant.”

“But I thought that when you have unprotected sex that's what happened. Isn't that what you told me, Brian?” Justin asks in a confused tone.

“Yes Justin, but, it may not be your body’s time. It takes some couples months to get pregnant.” I watched his face fall. I don’t want to be mean, but I also didn't want him getting his hopes up, for them only to be dashed. If it were up to me, it’d be a few years before I knocked him up.

“Oh,” his shoulders slump as he sighs out the word.

“Besides, last week you were sure you had your hormone over charge, right?” Rationally I don't think Justin could be pregnant. I was almost positive that he hadn't missed the hormonal over charge for this month. But then, Justin wasn't really sure about anything that went on with his body before I came here last month. So who knew what symptoms he experiences when he gets the HOC. Those were the normal signs but everyone reacted to the HOC in different ways.

“No, well I might not have. You never know,” Justin replies, taking me out of my thoughts. He grabs one of the sticks and holds it under his penis. “Will you take this after I pee on it and hand me the others, Brian?”

I cringe at the thought, but reply, “Sure. Just make sure your pee gets on the little window on the end of the stick, okay? That's what the directions said. And make sure you save enough for all three.”

Justin sighed. “Okaaaay Brian.”

I watched as a stream started to flow from his slit and he put the first stick under and then handed it to me. It was wet with piss and I tried not to freak as I set it on the counter and handed him another. When he handed the last one to me, I stared at Justin as he finished peeing, his head thrown back as if he was in heaven.

“Ahhh,” he sighed. “That was work trying to go slow.”

I laughed and set the stick down and looked at the clock on the wall. “We have to wait at least five minutes,” I remind him. I turn on the water in the sink and we both wash our hands. I looked at Justin and see his eyes are on the tiny screens that would either read pregnant or not pregnant.

“Come here, Justin,” I say, grabbing him into my arms. “You staring at them won't make it read what you want it to say.”

“Brian?” his arms squeeze around me tightly.

He looks up at me and his expression threatens to steal my breath from me. “Yeah, Sunshine?”

“Even though you are stuck here,” he gulps in a deep breath, “with me. Are, are you happy at all?”

I am momentarily stunned by his words and I think that scares him because I feel him pulling away from me. I tightened my grip on his waist. “Justin.” I lean my forehead against his and stare into his teary eyes. “Call me crazy, but I'm happy that I'm here with you. Of course I wish I were somewhere else, but I would still wish that that somewhere else was with you.” I lean in and kiss his lips gently. Just the feel of his lips on mine do things to me that no man ever has.

We remain, the only movement, our soft, luxurious kisses. He puts his head on my shoulder and I nuzzle his blond head, smelling his distinct scent. He relaxes completely against me, our bodies give a gentle sway every now and then, and I know that it’s the most content I ever remember feeling in my life.

By the time I looked at the clock again, it’s been nearly seven minutes. So I know, no matter what, there had been enough time for a result to appear. “We can look now,” I whisper in his ear.

He raises his head, takes my hand and we both walked closer to the counter. I find myself begging for the tests to be positive, and not just so that Justin isn’t disappointed.

“They're...they’re all negative!” Justin says loudly in despair, his hand gripping mine.

I look at tests and se that he is reading them correctly. Each test is negative. I feel tears well up in my eyes and grab Justin’s sobbing body into my arms, just as he starts to cry.

He keeps mumbling apologies and promising me that he'll try harder and that the next time he'd be pregnant

“It isn’t your fault,” I tell him. “It isn’t. I promise you, Justin,” I try to console him and assure him that it isn’t his fault. But I don't think he’s listening.

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Moments in Captivity

Chapter 6: Without

Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated. - Lamartine

Monday December 25, 1995

Justin ‘helped’ Duchess open her stocking and pulled out the candy cane filled with catnip. The jingle bell collar around her neck started jangling as she jumped up, trying to get her present from her boy.

“You can’t have it yet,” Justin told the kitten. “First, we need to open the rest of your stuff.”

Duchess’ attention was only focused on the toy in Justin’s hand. She didn’t care about the other toys he pulled out of the funny sock thing. She also didn’t understand why he’d put fun things that were for her inside it. Last time she took one of socks he’d been angry with her and wouldn’t let her have a treat for a long time.

“Come on,” Justin spoke in a high-pitched voice, “look at the green and red ball of yarn I got you. Don’t you want to play with it?”

Duchess had tired of the game Justin played, holding the wonderful smelling toy just out of her reach. She jumped up on his shoulder and jumped again, knocking it from his hand. She took a second to glare at him before taking her prize and running off toward the bedroom with it.

Justin laughed at his cat’s antics. “Well,” he said, “I guess we’ll just finish opening your stocking later.” He stood up from the floor and looked at his stocking that hung from the bar’s countertop. For a moment, Justin debated whether he wanted to get the camcorder out and film him opening it, pretending to be happy and surprised with the presents he put inside it, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care enough to open it at all.

Justin walked toward his bedroom, his shoulders slumped and tears fell from his eyes. He brushed them away, wishing that he were strong enough not to cry in front of the people watching him. Then, he was sure that the people watching him probably spent their Christmas with people they loved. He was probably all alone, not even Duchess wanted to spend Christmas with him.

Once in his bedroom, he looked over at the notebook sitting on his desk, then at the stacks of them that sat on his bookshelf. He remembered how horrible he felt the first Christmas, realizing that Santa Clause didn’t exist. It was too much for him to think about and he began to sob, collapsing onto his bed in tears.

Justin closed his eyes and memories of Christmases with his mother and father played through his mind like a blurry movie. He couldn’t remember the details anymore, he couldn’t remember what color dress his mother wore to their last Christmas brunch at the country club, or what was on the tie he’d given his father as his gift that year. That only made him cry harder in desperation.

Duchess heard her boy’s cries and tore herself away from the toy. She tromped into the bedroom and jumped on the bed, her color jingling as she made her way to Justin and curled up under his chin, meowing and moving her head back and forth.

Justin opened his eyes and held his kitten close to him. “Duchess, I’m tired of spending Christmas alone. I don’t want to be alone here anymore,” he sobbed. “I want someone to talk to who talks back. I want my Mommy and Daddy to save me.”

Duchess meowed softly to her boy and didn’t flinch away from the water that fell onto her fur from his tears. She kept up her stream of soft meows until her boy fell asleep.

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