by Rowan Shaw
"Because it does."
Brandon looked at me for a second as I ate my food, the savory taste of the foie gras almost making me moan.
His eyes filled with sadness. "Please tell me you're not one of those."
"One of whom?"
"One of those gay men who hate bi guys."
I swallowed down my toast, almost choking on it. His words made me feel awful for reasons I couldn't even explain. Maybe it was the forlorn way he was gazing at me, or how accusatory he sounded. But his comment drilled some guilt into me. Not enough to make me change my mind, though.
"If you're interested in going out with women, I need to know," I simply replied.
Brandon shook his head. "I don't see how it's any different from you showing interest in other men."
"Because it is." Why didn't he understand how it could be a problem for me to think of him wanting a woman? He knew about my ex. I'd told him already. Maybe I hadn't made my point clear enough.
"How is it different?" he asked.
"Because when you're with me, I don't want to think you might be missing pussy. That's how."
"I see. Well, just so you know, not all women have pussies, but whatever." His face closed off completely, his lips thinning into an angry line, his dark eyes stubbornly avoiding mine.
"I'm just being honest."
"How can you be such a reputable shrink for queers when you're holding those distorted beliefs?" The vitriol in his voice stung.
"Excuse me?"
His eyes shot at me with venom. "I came to your office because someone recommended you to my ex-wife. Apparently, you have a reputation in the field. I'm wondering how that can be if you're biased against almost half the LGBT community."
"Half the community?" I scoffed. He had to be joking, right?
"Yes, like it or not, bisexuals are the largest group in our community. I know it may come as a shock to you, but in my country, we definitely outnumber you."
"Is it a competition, then?" I asked sarcastically.
"I'm just stating facts." Brandon's eyes narrowed into pistols aimed at taking me down. "So you don't trust bisexuals? How original!"
"It's hard to trust people who've shown me nothing but their worst side," I said, trying to remain calm though he was pushing my buttons fast.
He tilted his head to the side, grief resurfacing in his beautiful gaze. "So because some bi people wronged you, it means the entire bunch is bad? Is that it? Why did you invite me here tonight since you know I'm one of those traitorous bis?"
"Because I wasn't sure you were bi."
"Well, now you know. Should I leave?"
Before he could stand, I grabbed his wrist. "No."
The conversation wasn't going the way I wanted it to. It was my own fault for bringing this up to begin with.
"What happened?" he asked. "Is it because of that ex you told me about? He must have broken your heart pretty badly to justify your feelings. Or is this just some unwarranted hatred?"
"I wouldn't call it hatred. That's a very strong word."
I didn't hate bisexual men. I didn't trust them. There was a difference. I was trying so hard to reconcile how I felt toward them versus my attraction to Brandon. I didn't know what the fuck I was supposed to do.
"What would you call it, then?"
"Distrust."
"You don't trust me?" he asked.
"I don't know yet."
Brandon let out a nasty laugh. "That's pretty funny coming from you."
"I guess you have a point. I'm not the most trustworthy gay in the area. Except I don't cheat." I gave a tiny smile that didn't loosen him any.
"I don't cheat either," he asserted.
I believed that. I truly did. So why did his orientation still bug me so damn much?
"How bad was it?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Your break-up with your ex."
I finished my plate without a word, stealing time to decide how much I was willing to reveal. When Brandon wouldn't drop the subject, I looked him straight in the eyes. "It almost killed me."
A shadow of sorrow overcast his face. "You didn't...?"
"No, I didn't try to off myself. Not directly at least."
"What do you mean, 'not directly?'"
"I lost over ten kilos when he left. I wasn't eating, and I couldn't sleep."
He sized me up as if to assess how much of my muscle mass I would drop off if I shed that much weight.
"I'm sorry," he said, as if Cédric being a complete sack of shit were his own fault.
"Did I tell you he got her pregnant? The chick he was cheating on me with."
Brandon's previous aggressive stance shifted to grief. I cleared my throat when the waiter came to pick up my plate. Brandon was right; the guy was eyeing me, and not in the most friendly way either. I didn't like his growing hostility, though I pretended not to notice. When he returned with our main dishes, I watched Brandon cut into his veal and take a bite. He closed his eyes and let out a moan that made my dick twitch.
"Could you please not turn me on?" I joked. "I'm trying to be serious here."
He opened his eyes. "Turn you on?"
"Moaning while eating your food..."
"Ah, but you deserve it," he teased and bit into his meat, moaning more loudly.
I shook my head while cutting into my trout. The restaurant had grown awfully silent. Besides us, only one couple remained. I knew the place closed at ten, but we had enough time to finish our meals by then. Not that they could kick out paying customers anyway.
"Do you want to talk more about him?" Brandon asked. "I think it would help."
I didn't feel like it. At all. Even Jean-François didn't know the extent of my downfall back then. I'd worked so hard on hiding my issues at the time, no one was the wiser until my mom considered sending me to the hospital. She forced me to see a therapist and work through all the pain.
I felt so stupid now. I'd let Cédric affect my life almost to the point of obliteration. But I was so young at the time. I'd learned my lesson well since then. I still wasn't sure what it was about Brandon that made me want to give him another try. Maybe I was ready to finally move on. Or maybe I was just plain stupid.
"Cédric is the only guy I've ever met who made me drop to my knees. I wasn't just infatuated. I was head over heels crazy for him. It was almost obsessive. He was inside my head, under my skin, in the very air I breathed." I looked at Brandon, but he gave no reaction. "He was my first boyfriend, my first lover, and the only guy I ever let top me. And until I met you, he was the best fuck of my life, too."
Brandon blinked, his mouth gaping. "Can you repeat that last part?"
"He's the only guy I ever let top me."
"No, the 'best fuck of your life' part."
I cocked my head to the side. "You didn't know?"
"That you think I'm that good in bed? No. I mean, I was surprised you even wanted more."
I narrowed my eyes. How could he think that?
"Brandon, I told you that night. I never came that hard in my life. I have many flaws, but I don't lie."
"I know you told me, but I don't get it. I mean..."
"You didn't come hard?" I asked, my ego slightly bruised.
"I did. I definitely did. It's just..." He took a deep breath. "You do realize I'd never been with a guy before, right?"
I gawked at him. Of course, the entire time I'd assumed his ex was a guy. Even when he told me she was a woman, I didn’t fathom he'd never been with a man at all in his life.
"I didn't know, no. You let me take complete control. I just assumed you were submissive."
Brandon laughed and shook his head, his eyes geared toward his plate as he cut into his vegetables. "The whole time I was worried you could tell how inexperienced I was. I thought you'd just move on to someone who knew what he was doing."
"Where did you learn to give head like that?" I was genuinely intrigued. Though he did ask many times how I preferred it and if what he
was doing felt good, he used his mouth like an expert.
He cleared his throat. I could have sworn a blush rose to his cheeks, but the light was too weak to tell for sure.
"When I was a teen, I used to practice," he acknowledged reluctantly.
"How?" Absolutely mesmerized by him, I chewed on my fish, the lemon sauce melting on my tongue, before I took a sip of white wine.
"On bananas."
I bit my upper lip hard to stifle a laugh.
"I would watch porn and replicate what I saw. I also looked for instructions online."
"You learned how to give good head by watching porn?" I couldn't stop the naughty grin that pulled at my lips.
"Where else was I supposed to learn?"
"Were you dating your ex back then?" I asked and finished my plate.
"We learned together."
I guffawed a laugh. "Let me get this straight, you and your female ex watched gay porn together to learn how to give head?"
He swallowed down his food and gave me the most mischievous smile. "It was bi porn actually, usually threesomes."
"And she was fine with you learning how to blow a guy? From porn?"
A tiny laugh broke out of his mouth. "You've never met Ling. That's how she learned to go down on women too."
That blew my mind. The one time I'd walked in on Cédric watching an FFM threesome on his computer, it freaked the shit out of me.
"You do realize porn is fake, right?"
Brandon pushed his empty plate away and patted his stomach, looking full and satiated. "I know, but it wasn't like I had other friends to practice with." He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Go on about the ex. I want to know more. I need to understand why you can't trust a bi guy."
I took a deep breath. I so didn't want to talk about this anymore, but I forced myself anyway. "After high school, Cédric and I moved in together. We were taking the same classes, almost had the same schedule. We were inseparable. Until he decided he needed some space. Suddenly, he was spending a lot of time at the library studying. I didn't question it because I didn't want to be one of those guys, you know? And we were still very active sexually. He was still affectionate and loving. I didn't suspect anything."
"That was when he was cheating?"
I downed the rest of my wine. "Cédric was meeting her behind my back the entire time. He didn't acknowledge the truth until he gave me crabs and was forced to admit he'd been straying."
"He gave you crabs?" Brandon exclaimed, appalled.
I motioned for him to tone it down. "I don't need the whole restaurant to know."
He slouched his shoulders and made a face. "Sorry."
"I was young and stupid. I was so obsessed with him, I was even ready to forgive him."
"You would have forgiven him after he gave you crabs?" He drank from his glass of wine, his eyes wide open. "You're a lot kinder than I would be."
"I wasn't kind. I was naïve and desperately in love with him. It was like he'd cast a spell on me. I was almost possessed. But I was ashamed too. I didn't tell anyone what he had done."
"So what happened? Did you keep dating him?"
"No, because he dumped me shortly after."
"After giving you crabs?" Brandon looked horrified. "What an ass!"
"Yeah, well, he wanted to remain closeted. I hated that when we were dating because his decision was forcing me back in a place I didn't want to be."
"Wait. How was he closeted if he was living with you?"
"As far as his family and friends were concerned, I was just his gay roommate and best friend from high school," I answered reluctantly.
"That's horrible."
It was. I still loathed thinking about it to this day.
"When I found out he was cheating on me with a girl, he came out as bi. He'd never said anything about liking women before. There was that one time I'd walked in on him watching bisexual porn, but he told me he was just curious. God, I was such an idiot."
"I'm sorry." Brandon seemed genuinely apologetic as if he bore the weight of what Cédric had done.
"It's not your fault."
"Maybe not, but you're obviously holding a grudge against all bi guys for it."
I bit my lip. I didn't like to talk about those days. It no longer cut me like it used to, but it still made me so angry. I did let it off my chest, though, because I truly needed Brandon to understand.
"Back when we were still dating and I wanted to be his boyfriend out in the open, he said that wasn't going to happen. I wasn't sure how he envisioned a future with me if he wasn't going to come out. It only dawned on me after he broke up with me: he'd never planned on staying with me after college. That entire time, he planned on finding himself a wife, having kids, and forgetting I even existed."
Brandon's dark eyes filled with sorrow. "That's terrible."
"What angered me the most was how he lied about his orientation. We dated for so long, but he never told me it wasn’t going to last. He let me fall for him so hard."
"Did he move out of the apartment?"
"He did. I found out the one girl he'd impregnated wasn't the first he'd slept with, either."
"Was she the one who gave him crabs?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Wow."
I clenched my fist around the napkin on my lap when anger boiled hotter inside me. "When we were in high school, he was meeting some college girl behind my back too. We'd barely been dating for six months at the time, and he was fucking other people behind my back already. I'm not even sure how many girls he fucked over all those years. And the whole time, I didn't know."
"That's... I am so sorry."
"We were fucking without using protection too." Just thinking about it gave me chills. "I don't even want to think about the kind of shit he could have passed on to me besides crabs. He was one of those guys who think they can't catch crap from sleeping around with women."
I winced when my nails dug into my palm. Brandon extended his hand over the table to grab mine, his warm touch soothing me.
"My friend Jean-François moved in with me after that. He was tired of his dorm. He saved my life, really." I wasn't willing to tell Brandon the extent of my misery back then, but having Jean-François around forced me to start eating again. I was so worried about anyone besides my mom finding out how low I was, I did everything I could to hide my condition.
Brandon's eyes overflowed with empathy when he squeezed my fingers. "So that's why you hate bi guys?"
I let out a sigh. "I don't hate bi guys. I told you. Not really. I just don't feel safe getting involved with one again."
"Where does that leave us, then?" he asked. "I can't change the fact that I'm bi, Patrick."
"I know that."
"Is it really going to be a problem?" The dejection in his voice cut at me more than I wanted it to.
"I don't know... I...I really like you."
He nodded, but the disappointment in his eyes could not be ignored.
When the waiter arrived to take our plates, he sent me another unfriendly look. He had chosen the wrong time to piss me off. I was already mad from rehashing all the shit Cédric had put me through.
"Excuse me," I called when he was ready to leave.
He turned to me and raised his chin.
"Do I know you from somewhere?"
His eyes narrowed into bullets. "The fourteenth of July, last year."
I blinked. I didn't remember that day. I was rather drunk, and—"Oh."
"Yes, oh."
Brandon looked from me to him, then back to me.
"I guess you lost my phone number or something?" the guy snapped.
I cast a quick glance at Brandon, who was staring at us, then acknowledged, "Yes, I guess I did."
"Right." He spun on his heels and left, straight as a rod, his ass swaying in his walk.
"What happened on Bastille Day?" Brandon asked, sending me an inquisitive look.
I cleared my throat. That made Brandon snort. "Let me guess.
You had sex with him, and you never called him back."
"Worse," I winced. "I don't remember any of it. I was drunk."
"Oh Patrick, tsk tsk." He shook his head at me, but instead of looking shocked or angry, he kept laughing. "What are the chances of you taking me out on a fancy date and us running into a waiter you had sex with but can't remember?"
Unlike him, I didn't see the humor in the situation at all. The probability was much higher than I wanted to admit. I'd fucked so many guys around town, there was no way I could remember them all. But I wasn't going to bury myself in a hole and tell Brandon that.
"Do we need to leave?" I asked, suddenly uncomfortable.
"No, you said you wanted dessert. And I still want my ice cream."
I nodded. "I'll skip the cheese."
Chapter 21
PATRICK
"Obviously, you made a strong impression on him," Brandon teased, looking back at our waiter, who was serving the other couple.
"I really don't remember it. I think we went to his apartment. Maybe?"
"What if you were too drunk to use a condom?"
"I never said it was a smart move. I'm pretty sure we used a condom."
His eyes nearly bulged. "Pretty sure isn't enough, Patrick."
"I'm clean. I got tested recently."
"Do you play games like that often?" he asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
"Like what?"
"Getting drunk and sleeping with random guys when you're not even sober enough to know what you're doing?"
"No. It hasn't happened since then."
"That you can remember," he pointed out, arching both eyebrows.
"No, I know for sure. It hasn't happened again."
He looked at me intently. "You didn't answer my question. Where does it leave us? That I'm bi, I mean. I don't want to get involved if you're going to hold some kind of subconscious grudge against me over something I can't control and didn't even do."
I let out a sigh.
"I can't help it if I'm attracted to other genders, you know?" he added. "I don't want you to freak if I'm looking at some woman walking down the street. Because you know it will happen. Just like I'll probably catch you checking out some other guys."
"I really like you." I truly did, even if I wished otherwise.
