Surviving the Merge

by C P Harris

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yes, ah, I can continue from there.”

  “Please, go ahead,” she said, watching me with concern.

  “I planned for a short set that night, aware that I was becoming careless. I finished and rushed to my room to shower and change. Before I could get the door closed, Blake... Damon pushed me further into the room and locked us in. I’d been caught. Those words ran through my muddled mind on a loop. Weak from shame and fault, I didn’t consider that the man in front of me wasn’t Blake.” I proceeded with the edited version of events for Julie and Blake, while my mind drifted back to Damon’s parting words to me that night…

  “I left you with him because I thought you would be better off,” Damon had said. “Because we were at our breaking point. You could no longer live with me, and I couldn’t live without you. But you’re not happy. Not if you’re here.” He looked around the room at the wreckage he’d caused when he tore into me. “Get him to allow us to at least have this.” He released my neck, and my skin burned from the unwelcomed departure. It begged for his hands to return. “If you don’t come back to me, I will find my way to you,” he warned.

  Shaking my head to rid it of the memory, I hesitantly turned to Blake. He gave me a look that said: you’re not fooling me. I chose to ignore it. Julie was on to me too, but I wasn’t about to sit there and tell my husband and therapist how another man fucked me to within an inch of my life. That when fucking me was no longer an option, he licked and sucked every part of me that had the ability to expel something. Not even if that other man was technically him.

  “What made you decide to go back to Elite, Justin? Why after five years?” Julie asked.

  “To answer that, I would need to first tell you why I stopped.” I waited for Blake to provide some indication that sharing this part of our past was okay. He squeezed my thigh.

  “Five years ago, I was assaulted. Raped, to be more accurate. And no, not by Damon. This was different from any presumed force from Damon. This was true terror.

  “Damon and I attended different universities, and one night, I showed up to his dorm as planned, only to find his cock down his ex-roommate’s throat.” The anger returned tenfold, the taste fresh on my palate. It tasted of yesterday. “I left in a daze, broke up with him later on by text, and took painful measures to avoid him.” I inhaled a shuddering breath at the memory.

  Alone with myself, each passing day I sunk deeper into a black void. Dancing kept me going―until it didn’t. I’d stopped going to school because Damon wouldn’t stop popping up, and I grew tired of dodging him. I stopped eating, showering, and getting out of bed. Deleted his voicemails without listening to them. Deleted his text messages without reading them. I removed him from my dorm visitors list, so he couldn’t get past the guard.

  Then I turned angry.

  Unable to sit still any longer, I got up and went over to the window. Blake’s hand flopped to the sofa cushion. Abandoned. “I uncharacteristically accepted an invite to a fraternity party. A party was the last thing on my mind.” I looked over my shoulder and fixed my eyes on Julie. “But if Damon could hurt me the way he did, so easily, the least I could do was return the favor.” Facing the window again, I placed my palm flat against the pane, allowing the vibrations of the wind and rain to be my central point of focus.

  “I got to the frat party pretty late. Everyone already wasted six ways to Sunday. Wasn’t a problem.” I shrugged a shoulder. “Just meant I needed to catch up.

  “After a few drinks, I sat in a corner brewing with self-righteousness.” Who the fuck does he think he is? The once familiar contempt wrapped its loving arms around me. I’d isolated myself away from the world because he wanted me to himself. To Damon, everything and everyone resembled a threat to his hold on me. We were so high off the codependency. We fed off the drama. The break-up to make up, the fighting, the fucking, the fighting that turned into fucking. Jesus, how did we ever get anything else done? My thoughts rushed through me, and I pounded the side of my fist with tempered force against the glass.

  “So, when a nameless guy approached me and asked if I wanted to take the party upstairs, I downed the last of my drink and told him to lead the way.” It was late, and the music blasted at an uncomfortable level throughout the house. People were either intoxicated and passed out on any available surface or fucking without a care in various stages of undress.

  “We found an empty room, and while he did a few lines of coke, I went into the bathroom to get my nerves under control.” I remembered leaning over the sink and staring at the stranger looking back at me through the mirror. I’d lost some weight; my collar and cheekbones were prominent. My eyes were red from the alcohol and lack of sleep. I’d recalled what put me in that situation to begin with, and it reignited my anger.

  “I went back into the bedroom, and he strode toward me with a lecherous stare. While kissing him, I began to have second thoughts.” I grunted. “He didn’t like that so much.”

  I realized that I couldn't go into the blow-by-blow. The more I talked about it, the closer I felt to that night. As if no time had passed. Deciding to wrap things up, I said, “I was drunk, something I’d never been before. And he was high off narcotics. My choice of recreation left me weak, easy prey. He gained the strength of ten gods. The room resembled a battlefield from our struggle, and his sweat and blood rained down on me from the wounds I’d inflicted. In the end, I lay there mangled and violated in a pool of my own tears and vomit.”

  I didn’t pray to God as I writhed on that bleak, black bedroom floor. I begged for Damon. Always Damon.

  I used to ask myself if what happened was somehow my fault. Karma. My getting-what-I-asked-for. For all the times that Damon and I toed the line of consent. But Damon and I loved each other. A level of trust and understanding flowed fluidly and unsaid between us. The bottomless pit of my need filled the gaping hole of his. We were some sort of yin and yang. It was different with us. It just was.

  I faced Julie. “To answer your question, I went back to Elite because after five years, I finally felt strong enough to reclaim the essential part of me that died in that room.”

  Blake approached, enfolding me within his arms. I inhaled him, returning the embrace. Julie remained seated, giving us some time. “I’m... sorry.” His voice shook.

  I leaned away and had to guard myself against the anguish and guilt displayed on his face. My own feelings were more than enough for me to bear; I couldn’t take on his too. I didn’t need him to be sorry. “I need to see Damon.” And Lord help him when I do.

  We returned home, and I aggressively paced our living room. I didn’t know what to do with my upset. I’d never wanted to think about that night again, so I hadn’t. I’d been so consumed with Damon's return and what it meant to our lives that I hadn’t given that part of my past any thought.

  It all came back to me in a rush of debilitating anger and pain. Damon's role in what happened to me was all I could think about. If it wasn’t for him…

  “I’m going down to the club―we are going down to the club.” I walked past Blake, and he gently grabbed my arm, pulling me up short.

  “Not tonight―”

  “Yes, tonight. I have to confront him. I can’t believe I allowed him to waltz back in―”

  “Not. Tonight,” he said. The finality that tinged his words caused me to stand straighter.

  Blake dropped my arm and shook his head. “I’m tired, Justin. Not tonight.”

  My ire subsided. How unfair and selfish of me to demand a switch like that. I tended to forget that in reality they were one body. “You’re right.” I stepped into him and admitted, “I don’t know how to make him hurt without hurting you, but I can’t let this go.”

  “He didn’t mean for that to happen to you, Justin. He couldn’t have known.”

  “Are you defending him now?” I took a step back, waiting for him to tell me that wasn’t what he meant.

  “I’m sayin
g that in the hospital when you asked me to stay, he let me. Your suffering was his.”

  I wanted to argue but suddenly depleted of all energy, I let it go. “I’m sure Julie will think this is progress,” I said wryly. Lining up our bodies, I ran my nose up the side of his neck and then bit down. He grunted and tilted his head, exposing more skin. Kissing away the sting, I rested my head on his shoulder. “Let’s go to bed.”

  That night, folded around one another in the dark, I thought back on my life since meeting Damon and, subsequently, Blake. Outside of them, I’d had no meaningful relationships. Ashton was great, but he was Damon’s friend at the core. I didn’t think I even possessed the skills to make friends. I had my students that I interacted with almost daily, but we didn’t socialize outside of rehearsals—not for a lack of trying on their part. Did I even know who I was? I didn’t think so. What did I stand for? Did I have hopes and dreams outside of dance?

  Dance and these two men who were at war with each other. That’s all I had. It became clear that I needed more. This couldn’t be all there was for me. Not anymore. I needed answers to my questions, but how did I go about obtaining them?

  “I’m going to put in for a leave of absence,” I said spontaneously.

  Blake shifted to face me, the sheet drifting below his waist to expose one firm globe. “Why on earth would you do that? You love your job. You love dancing.”

  “I can still dance for personal enjoyment, but I’ve never done anything else. How do I know there aren’t other passions buried deep inside me waiting to be discovered? I’m twenty-seven. I have no family or friends―outside of you.”

  Dance had been my only hobby. All I’d ever done professionally. It became urgently imperative that I experienced more. If not, then no amount of therapy would mean anything.

  “What will you do?”

  “I don’t know. Start a garden at the Chadwick house, maybe?” I offered a smirk that said even I’m not convinced it’s a bright idea. Just the first thing that popped into my head. Showed my inexperience at dreaming up things outside of what I already knew.

  Blake tried to hide his smile behind his hand. “You want to be a landscaper―ouch! Hey, stop pinching me. What was that for?” He looked petulant as he rubbed his side.

  “For making fun of me. I’m being serious here.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. You know I’ll support any decision you make.”

  “I want to”—I swallowed down my nerves—“try and make friends.” I looked at him with a defensive expectancy. While Blake had never given any indication that he objected to me having friendships outside of him, Damon certainly had. Never inclined to put myself out there, out of habit, it wasn’t something that ever came up.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Blake said.

  I visibly released the tension that had built in my shoulders.

  “Did you think I would have a problem with that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “I only ever want you to be happy, Justin. I follow your lead. I always have.” He unconsciously swept my hair behind my shoulder.

  “I know. I’m sorry.” I leaned in to steal a kiss, nibbling at his full top lip. “You must blame me for disturbing your perfect life.”

  “How perfect could it have been if you were unhappy?” His warm palm massaged my nape.

  “You made me happy, Blake. You make me happy. Do you believe that?” I inched closer.

  “Justin, you need a full partner, not half of a whole. I won’t fault you for wanting that. I can’t. It’s what you deserve.” He gazed at me lovingly.

  “You two are so different. I can see Damon's response to all this news now.” I did my best imitation of a gorilla: “Me Damon. You Just. You mine.” Ending it with my version of a mating call. We laughed. My mind settled on the nickname Damon gave me the day we met. Just. He’d called me that the night he came back. The night at Elite. That made it real.

  “I have to find my compassion for him,” Blake said. “I had plenty of it once upon a time.” His jaw hardened with determination. “Don’t give up on us, Justin.”

  “Never.” I put all my love into that one-word pledge.

  Rolling on top of me, Blake asked, “What do you want?”

  I spread my legs, and he situated himself between them. “Make love to me.”

  Chapter Five

  “So, you’re just going to hang around here all day?” Blake’s deep, bemused voice filled his office. I stopped tapping the armrest of the chair I occupied on the other side of his desk.

  “Are you trying to get rid of me, Blake?” I arched an eyebrow. I was bored, but I couldn’t tell him this.

  “No, not at all. I simply can’t imagine that sitting in on my meetings and conference calls will be all that interesting to you.”

  “It’s interesting,” I said. He wasn’t convinced. “Besides, I need to expose myself to different things if I’m ever going to figure out where else my interests lie.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Sitting forward, resting his forearms on his desk, Blake asked, “Do you even know what we do here?”

  “I’m insulted. I know what you do.”

  “What do I do?”

  “You build apps and... things.”

  Shoulders shaking with laughter, he sat back, taking me in. “All right, well, follow me. I have a meeting in”—he looked at his watch—“five minutes to discuss new apps and things.”

  Ten minutes into Blake’s meeting, I’d made one solid observation: I can safely scratch this off my list. The only thing I got from it was that the new prototype had gone to production. But damn, seeing Blake take charge was one hell of an aphrodisiac. The way his charcoal trousers gripped his quads and ass… Delicious. I wondered if I could entice him into a quickie when we got back to his office. A blowjob at the very least.

  “That’s it for today,” Blake announced. “Josh, can you have the mockup proposal completed and on my desk by morning? I’d like to get a rush on testing.”

  The meeting was over. My prayers had been answered.

  “So, what did you learn?” he asked. As soon as we cleared his office door, I led him over to his desk and into his chair.

  “I learned that watching you lead a meeting turns me on.” I had his pants unzipped and his cock out before the last word left my mouth.

  “Justin, the door isn’t locked. Anyone can walk in here.” A slight panic colored his voice.

  “Then we’d better make this quick.” I licked around his crown.

  “Ugghhhh… At least... get under the desk, so if anyone comes in, we won’t... be exposed.”

  After some shuffling, I was completely hidden under the desk and sucking him off. With my free hand, I pulled my dick out, in case I was unsuccessful at holding off my own orgasm. I didn’t want to walk out of there with cum stains on my pants.

  On my knees with my thighs spread wide, my cock heavy and pointing toward the floor, I picked my speed and focused my suction on the tip.

  The way we were positioned prevented Blake from thrusting up, and I could tell by his tortured moans that it killed him. That left me one hundred percent responsible for bringing it home, and I loved the challenge.

  Two quick raps on his office door, and then someone entered.

  “Here are those mockups you wanted, boss.”

  Josh. I was about to stop, but pre-cum hit my tongue at that exact moment, and it took everything in me not to moan. My own cock started to rise.

  “I asked you to have these to me in the morning.” Blake’s words were gravelly.

  “Yeah, well, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to show you how amazing I am, so I’m giving it to you sooner.”

  “I see.” Blake coughed to cover up whatever inappropriate sound he was about to make.

  I worked faster. Blake’s hand on my shoulder told me wordlessly to back off, and I pushed it away in irritation.

  “Are you okay, boss?”

  “Fine. I’ll take a look
at these... and... get back to you with any... questions.” His voice dropped on the last word. His balls tightened, and a gush of my own pre-ejaculate climbed up my shaft.

  “What’s that sound?” Josh asked.

  “I don’t hear anything. Be sure to close my door behind you.” His words fell over each other.

  Again, another attempt at pushing me away.

  “Are you getting a blowjob under your desk, boss?” Amusement mixed with disbelief.

  I’m rewarded when thick, salty, seed hit my tongue.

  “Oh God... fuck... mmmmmm…” Followed by a fist hitting the desk and heavy panting.

  I placed my hand on my member to direct it to the floor and silently rode through my own climax. My back arched, and my right eye twitched. Releasing him with a pop, I did my best to stay upright in the confined space.

  “I hate you two,” Josh said. “If anyone’s looking for me, me and my hand will be in the bathroom.” The door closed behind him.

  Pushing back in his chair, his eyes took me in. My cheeks felt hot, lips puffy, and my eyes glazed over.

  “Look at you,” he said, raking me up and down with his heated gaze.

  “Fuck me. Now,” I whispered.

  Blake’s lips twitched. Looking at the floor between my legs, he said, “Clean up your mess, and let’s go home.”

  I bent over to obey.

  After coming home, we decided to order in and open a bottle of wine. Sated, we lounged on the sofa, his back to my chest, fire blazing, watching the night fall.

  “It’s been forty-eight hours since you took your leave of absence. Any second thoughts?”

  I considered his question. “No.” I idly ran my hands up and down his chest.

  “Dancing, Damon, and Blake.” And not always in that order. “Dancing isn’t going anywhere. I can always go back to it. Plus, Michael’s a good fill-in for me, so the transition for everyone will be seamless.”

  “Was anyone upset at your sudden departure? The big performance is coming up.”

  “No, they all said they hated to see me go but wished me luck. It was painless.”