STAYING OR GOING: BOOK II- CHAPTER 2: NO ORDINARY LOVE

JUSTIN:

I gave you all the love I’ve got I gave you more than I could give; I gave you love

I gave you all that I have inside And you took my love

Didn't I tell you What I believe Did somebody say that A love like that won't last

Didn't I give you All that I've got to, give baby

I keep crying for you, I keep trying for you, Keep flying for you and I’m falling

There's nothing like you and I baby

This is no ordinary love, No ordinary love*

I’m back in my seat from probably one of the most animalistic fuck sessions Brian and I have ever had. As soon as the ‘Fasten Seatbelts’ sign went off, I dragged him to the matchbox bathroom and had my wicked way with him. I started on him the minute I closed and locked the door, kissing him as I meant for us to go on, biting his lips before sucking the stinging pain away. Several times he tried to slow me down but to no avail. I needed the angriness to dissipate before I entered business class to kill Michael with my bare hands. I was also pissed off at Brian. As I tried my best to decimated his lips, I kept hearing that fucktard’s voice.

“I told Brian once before that he should have left that conniving ungrateful twink to die and I’ve not changed my mind. In fact, I wish Chris Hobbs was here right now to finish him off as he should have then! Then he wouldn’t be here to make my life a living hell!”

The fact that Michael had said that was one thing, but the fact that Brian knew he felt that way about me was a whole other issue. To think that it was Brian’s suggestion that I keep working with that little motherfucker after he and I got back together… That shit hurts, even more than Michael’s maliciousness. I had come to expect that, but why would Brian encourage me to work with someone who hated me enough to wish me dead? I didn’t ask him, not wanting to hear any of the usual excuses about Michael.

Instead I began to strip him as much as I was able within the tiny space, and with the minimal amount of foreplay possible, lubed Brian up and fucked him hard and fast... Violently. I wanted him to feel my pain; to know how much it hurt; to know how much pain I was in all those years ago and still am now. I wanted him to hurt like I hurt, even if it was only for a little while. Then I left him in the washroom to clean himself up, without so much as a kiss of thanks.

Part of me feels really shitty for doing that. I mean, after all we’ve been through, it doesn’t detract from the fact that I love Brian to distraction. But the wounded part of me, doesn’t give a fuck! The same isolation he probably feels right now is what I’ve felt with him many times from the very beginning. Was it a revenge fuck?

Perhaps, since I don’t feel any better for having done it. I’m still in emotional agony over all of this. Instead I feel just a little justified in my reaction to finding out that Brian knew Michael spewed that filth about me. But yet in spite of that, he continued to remain friends with him despite his love for me. God, my thoughts are all over the place right now, racing with the other things that Michael holds over me, even those things that I may know nothing about.

It’s in the secret little smirks he throws my way when Brian isn’t looking. It's the way his whining voice grates on my nerves, when Brian’s attention isn’t on him but on me… Fuck! So fucking much is roiling inside of me right now. Remembering the journal, I decide to write it all down.

I begin with the simplest of decisions: what do I want from therapy…

1. To know myself again the way I used to before the bashing. That event took away my self-confidence, my self-awareness, and my innocence, such as it was.

2. To understand exactly why Ethan happened,  not just why emotionally- that I can answer myself- but why did he happen for me mentally, before I ever fucked him.

3. To understand why I stay with Brian, regardless of the fact that I love him. Has it simply become because he’s ‘safe?’ Is it because of the fear of starting over with someone else?

4. Why am I not afraid to be reckless in business, yet I live cautiously in everything else? Have I become as emotionally stilted as Brian?

Like I said, these were the easiest of questions to ask. As I sit here listening to Sade sing No Ordinary Love on repeat through my Ipod, I know that it’s time to face the really difficult situation I’m in as a married man to Brian Taylor-Kinney. To say those are the most difficult feelings to face is the understatement of my life.

1. Why did he propose? Seems an easy question and it would be for anyone else, but not with Brian. Sure he was- or should I say is?- more open than he used to be, but sometimes trying to get what should be the simplest of answers out of him is comparable to an archaeologist planning their next big find.

2. Why does he continually choose Michael over me? I mean, I know the surface reason probably has something to do with his shared history with the Novotnys from his childhood. But that excuse no longer applies… the constant ‘You owe me’ mantra no longer applies since from where I stand, Brian has repaid his debt of gratitude over and over again and that was even before he met me. A single band-aid costs a dollar and yet for providing it, or even twenty of them, they seem to think that Brian should give his life to their various causes as repayment for being a safe haven from an abusive situation? Regardless of my feelings for and about Michael, it makes me regard Debbie just as suspiciously.

3. What does Michael know about Brian that I don’t? That should be pretty straightforward, but it isn’t. There’s something that’s been nagging at me for awhile and it’s about something that happened during the first year Brian and I were together, for lack of a better term. Finding out that bit of information may be the key to all of the power Michael seems to have over me when it comes to Brian. But will he tell me?

4. If Brian really wanted me to stay, why did he push me into Ethan’s arms? And I want the truth from his standpoint, not the version where I am the heavy because I wasn’t happy. I had made my decision and he pushed me anyway. Why?

5. Does he still love me? Does he still want to be with me? Or am I just convenient to have around? Do I still inspire him? Why don’t we talk anymore? Why is it so easy for him to talk to Michael but not me?

Questions...questions...questions! All I have are fucking questions about where we’ve been, where we are and where we’re going or want to be. The silence between Brian and I is suffocating, so thick that it would take more than a knife to cut it. Does something else have to happen where he will make me a priority again like he did after I had moved in pre-Ethan? I feel like I am in this by myself, with no room to move or grow. And yet...I can’t leave him on my own. He has to push me… but I don’t want him to. I don’t want leave him!

“Shit!”

“Justin, what’s wrong?” he asks me, noticing the tenseness of my fingers. The fucking mind-numbing pain from that fucking bat is fucking with head and my hand again. But I can’t tell him that.

I slam the journals shut with my unaffected hand and push them to the side, while trying to keep the other stationary until I can massage it. Brian grips my wrist tightly, even as I try to pull it back. I don’t want him touching me right now, but he won’t relent. He’s staring at me with narrowed eyes, daring me to attempt to pull it out of his grasp just one more time. I want so badly to yell at him, but the throbbing in my head keeps me from doing so. Finally, I sigh heavily and let him tend to me, even though I still don’t want him touching me… I’m angry and confused and hurt and he’s the fucking cause of it! I don’t…

BRIAN:

He’s sitting there rigid, letting me do what I used to when his hand acts up. It’s been a long time since he’s had an attack this severe and I have to wonder why. It used to only happen when he had overexerted himself or the memories of the attack were assailing him. A few times, I know it was because he was overstressed, but that was work-related, so I massaged his hand, gave him his strongest headache med and made him lie down. But this...this is even more severe than those times during the second and third years we were together- unacknowledged and undefined but together nonetheless.

“So what’s brought this on, Sunshine?” I ask, but he just grunts at me with his eyes closed, his forehead furrowing in pain and frustration. “I would think you wouldn’t have any tension left, judging by how hard it is for me to sit still just now. My ass really hurts, Justin!”

He side-eyes me then without a trace of sympathy. I suppose I understand and in some small way, I deserve that look. There have been many of days that I’ve taken my issues with the world out on his ass, so I suppose it’s fair that he returned the gesture. I just wish I knew why he did it. Part of me feels violated. I mean, he didn’t even bother to stay after he disposed of his condom to make sure that I was alright or to clean me up the way he usually does after he tops me. And since I’ve been sitting here after that episode in the bathroom, he’s had his head buried in those damn journals and studiously ignoring me. I feel like somehow I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone and Justin has taken on my coldness with tricks before I met him. I’m not sure what to do or to make of it at all. All I know is that he and I can’t go on like this.

I thought we’d made real progress last night at Ted’s. I mean, us, working together side-by-side, is always magic. But more than that, we have a connection that can’t be beat in those moments. Our commitment is what people pay us millions for. Not because we’re married, but because Justin and I operate on an entirely different plane than everyone else in our business. Even when we were almost destitute and homeless a few short years ago, we combined our talents and determination to make something great. That’s always been the key to our success- the fact that we’re connected in every way that counts. Or at least I used to think so, until that episode in the bathroom happened. That was probably the most perfunctory fucking Justin and I have done in years, even before the fiddler officially happened.

The last time was the night after he’d returned from Vermont and he was feeling, I don’t know- pissed? Heartbroken? Anyway, he was sitting at his computer talking in the third person, saying in a little voice what he wished I would have said to him. I asked him what was with the small voice; he in turn, asked why I didn’t come to Vermont. I told him I had things to do and pulled out that plain-Jane ad for Farley’s Steakhouses, intent on asking him what he thought about their campaigns. But the resigned look on Justin’s face just then told me that there wasn’t going to be room for conversation. Like the little masochist he is sometimes, he asked me if I missed him. Yeah, I did, but I was still at the stage where I couldn’t voice such lesbianic drivel, so I decided to show him that I did instead. Unbeknownst to me at the time was that Justin was at a stage where he was doubting everything that we’d been to each other, everything that we meant to each other… plain and simple, he needed the words that I couldn’t say.

So with as little prep as possible, I fucked him against the beam in the middle of the loft. It had started off slow but whereas there was passion on my part, there wasn’t any on his, just obligation. And now we’re back in that place again, only this time, we’re both needing something from the other and are each in our own way too scared to ask for it.

I look over at him and realize that he’s fallen asleep. I can’t help but smile a little since it’s true to form. He used to do that once the episode had passed and his muscles were finally able to relax. I place a tender kiss on his half-opened palm and lay it across my lap as I used to, so that he would know I’m still here beside him. Then I decide to pop my headphones in and follow Justin’s example to get my assignment for Alex done. Looking at both journals, I start with the one for couples while listening to “The Sweetest Taboo.” That song always makes me think back to the night I met Justin. A song full of decadent rhythm and rim shots that just take you to another place. That’s what Justin has done from minute one. I wonder if I’ve ever told him that. So it makes what I want us to work on easy to write down.

1. I want us to get back to being ‘us’ again. I want the fun back; the fearlessness and uninhibited version of us; the no-holds-barred and take-no-prisoners version of us.

2. I want to be able to know that I can tell him everything again. I want my lover and best friend back. I want our conversations to be more than about business or what’s for dinner again.

3. I want him to stop hiding from me. Everyday the ‘Sunshine’ I know gets further and further away.  

4. No more perfunctory, obligatory fucks!

5. I want his heart again. Has he become bored with me? Where has our spontaneity gone? Does he still want to be with me? Has he found a younger version of me? Why is he giving up on me- on us? Is he still invested in seeing us work? Can we start over or does he even want to?

See? Asking these questions is much easier than digging into my own wants and needs for myself. The reason for that is simple. It’s because I’ve always wanted Justin’s happiness. If I’m honest with everyone around me, including myself, I’ve wanted it from the moment I met him. I often wonder if being with me has made the optimistic ball of fire that I met all those years ago turn cynical and mistrustful. Have I turned him into a younger version of who I was back when I first met him? I know that knowing him has changed me for the better in so many ways, but in turn, has knowing me changed him for the worse? Which brings me to my own issues…

1. How the fuck can I escape the ghosts of Jack and Joan Kinney? Sure their naysaying and badgering has played a major role in the driven man that I am, but are they still affecting me in negative ways by placing a dark cloud over my relationship with Justin?

2. How do I forgive Lindsay for leaving? Yes, I understand that she wasn’t happy, but she was also my friend. I can’t see it as anything but selfish that she left, not only Mel, but me too.

3. How do I stop Michael from sowing discord in my life? Yes, I know that I’ve basically given him license to do that in some ways, but I keep feeling like I owe him. I want to not feel that way anymore. I know I’ve begun the process already but I want to know how to break free permanently, without having to sever the friendship entirely.

This is just way too much introspection for me right now, so I decide to put the journal down and just relax for the rest of the flight. I figure that now that I at least have a couple of the basic questions out of the way, the rest, if there are more, will come to me later on and I’ll write them down then. In the meantime, I’m content to just sit here and watch Sunshine sleep. But first, I call Ben over.

“What’s up, Brian? Justin okay?” He asks, when he looks over at the creased frown on Justin’s forehead.

“Yeah, he had a little hand trouble, which often brings about a headache afterwards. He’ll be out for a while. But listen, I know that he wanted to give you this himself but…” I hand him the envelope.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know all the particulars as of yet but… Well, Justin has decided to give Michael the comic.”

“What? Why would he do that?!”

“Hey, keep your voice down,” I advise him, while checking on Justin. He shifts moderately for a few moments and then settles back into sleep. I can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes me. I hate these fucking headaches of his. Hell, I hate seeing Justin in pain at all! But back to the matter at hand… “As I was saying, I think it’s worth it to Justin just to be rid of Michael, in this respect anyway. But he and I didn’t want you to suffer while it’s all finalized. So Justin paid you what he just offered to Michael, which of course, was turned down.”

“Wait… there were other offers? I only knew about one.”

“Looks like your husband has been keeping secrets from you, Benny boy. Justin has made two other offers in addition to this last one. The amount could have saved the store and would have paid the rest of the mortgage on your house. But Michael thought it in his best interest to dig in his heels. So, since Justin is beyond fed up with him, he’s decided to just give Michael the comic.”

“There has to be a catch, Brian. Contrary to public consensus, I’m not stupid. So what’s the catch?”

“What makes you think there is one?”

“Like I said, not stupid. Justin is just as much of a businessman as you are. He’s not going to give up something for nothing even if it does mean doing ‘pest control.’ Rage is very valuable to both Michael and Justin. To Michael, it is all monetary, but to Justin, it’s his art. For him, you can’t put a price tag on his creativity no matter how much money it garners. So why would he willingly give Michael want he’s wanted all along?”

I smile as Ben works out just how Justin thinks. “The good news is that the copies that have sold are still out there and Justin still holds the copyrights on all of his work. The bad news, for Michael that is, is that he can’t use any part of Justin’s artwork for sale or resale.”

“Shit! That means that all…”

“That’s right, Professor. All current issues and paraphernalia will have to be pulled off the shelves immediately since Justin designed them, and Michael will have to start over from zero if he wants the franchise to continue. But there is another small, itsy bitsy problem with that as well…”

“And that is?”

“If Michael tries to use any of the dialogue from the old issues or even suggest new dialogue from OUR lives in any way, we have grounds to sue him. In truth, we could have done so long since, but now basically, Michael is completely on his own.”

“Wow! Justin really is thorough, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea, Ben. Contrary to popular belief, Justin’s brain is what has always kept me enthralled, not simply his ass, no matter how impressive it is. Sure he’s got a great body -many men do- and he is a veritable lion in bed, but none, other than Justin, have kept me addicted these many years. There is nothing sexier to me than to see him both strong and vulnerable during sex, except when Justin is in predator mode. Whether it’s business or pleasure or both, the man is a walking aphrodisiac. First and foremost, the thing most, especially Michael, never realized is that he’s a brilliant strategist. Behind that innocent facade is a man that not even I would try to fight against. Between his WASP ways and that incredibly agile mind, it has to be said that when Justin wants to fuck someone, or fuck them up, he doesn’t half-ass the job. It’s something that not even his sperm donor realized until it was too late; never even saw it coming.

“Because he tried to not only take Molly away from Jen, but also attempted to leave her jobless and homeless, Justin set about ruining Craig. He first did a little fact finding and discovered that Craig was embezzling from his own company, all the while lying to Jennifer, saying that he couldn’t afford to pay alimony and child support. Yet, he had enough money to pay for a lavish destination wedding and honeymoon in Hawaii, one that included him, his new wife, and fifty other guests. Not even Molly was invited, because she can’t stand her new stepmother, Babbette. So while Craig was away living the glamorous life and completely oblivious to the hell his actions rose up within his son, Justin spoke to and bought out all of Craig’s distribution contracts, for pennies on the dollar. Of course our little corporate raider was able to effect a hostile takeover, ousting Craig from Taylor Electronics with the help of several of his shareholders. Jennifer and Justin then sued him in civil court, which basically bankrupted him, but it was either that or jail time. Justin then asked Jennifer if she still wanted the company, but she said no. So he sold it for her to one of the shareholders, who had been asking to buy Craig out for a number of years. He walked away with enough money from the deal that even after taxes, Jennifer and therefore Molly were made into multi-millionaires.

“As for Craig Taylor… well he is now broke and broken, living in the basement of his new wife’s parents’ house, because little Sunshine got stormy. He’s absolutely fascinating to watch, and definitely makes me glad that he fights with me, not against me. So now he’s trying to make sure that you are taken care of. You’re one of the few people he trusts beyond me, although him trusting me is clearly questionable right now.”

“He still does, Brian.”

I swallow hard at his conviction that Justin still trusts me in spite of everything. I suppose that’s the real reason Ben was pissed at me for using Michael as a crutch. The dissolution of trust within a relationship is incredibly painful, not only for the people involved, but for those spectators who helplessly watch it happen. It’s a lesson I learned watching Melanie and Lindsay fall apart. I clear my throat at the memory. “Whether you and Michael stay together or not, makes us no difference. We just don’t want you to meet the same fate; you deserve better. You deserve happiness… and a place in Heaven for putting up with Michael. Hell, I would even say you deserve fucking sainthood.”

He laughs at that. “If I do, so do you. Listen, I’m going to deposit this right now. Thank goodness they have apps that take care of those kinds of things now, so I won’t have to worry about getting back to the mainland before I can do anything with it, especially since I’ll be sharing a villa with Inspector Go-Fuck-Himself. This way even if he finds it before I’m able to get it off to the courier, he can’t endorse it again or deposit it into the joint account, which if I’m honest, now only has twenty-three dollars and sixty-six cents in it.”

“That is… WOW! That’s special,” I say, trying not to ask the question of what the hell has been happening. Ben makes more than an adequate salary so…

“Don’t worry, Brian. I really would have been fine even if I never received this check. That figure is the exact amount that Michael has contributed to the joint account since June of last year. At least, he can’t say that I stole from him on top of the other heaps of accusations I’m in for.”

“Either way though, it’s what you deserve. Michael has entitlement issues in which he thinks he deserves to be taken care of, not take care of himself. I remember Justin asking me once, why I keep Michael around, if on the flip side of that, I surround myself with people who are as ambitious and driven as I am. I’m beginning to wonder the same thing.”

“It’s why people always look at me askance when they find out I married him. My only excuse is that I fell for the ‘boy next door’, but instead got the metaphorical serial killer instead.”

“That’s a harsh comparison.”

“But it’s the truth. Instead of Michael physically pulling out a knife and hacking away at people, he’s a dreamkiller, a hope killer, a sanity killer, and a soul snatcher. In my opinion, he’s to be more feared than Jeffrey Dahmer or Charles Manson ever was.”

“No wonder you and Justin are friends. He’s felt the exact same way since forever.”

“Well, if two guys- one being his own husband- are telling you this, what are you going to do about it?”

He walked away, and the answer is, I really don’t know. After years of friendship, can I really let go of the only person who knows just how bad things were for me? What I do know is that I can no longer be responsible for the care and feeding of Michael Novotny without giving up the one person who has been there for me since the day I met him; the one person who has been here through all the ups and downs, the changes and reinvention of me; the one person who loves ME and not the version of me that they created. Justin is it for me. So how do I make him see that again?