Counterpoint

by Anna Zabo

  Dom picked up the paper bag with the bottle of wine and set it on the coffee table, next to the magazine. “I don’t get the chance to be me—really me—very often.” Finally, the tears he felt pricked at his eyes. “I was just enjoying the time...”

  It was then the whole realization caught up and his breath gave out. He was losing this. Losing Adrian. Losing a part of himself—because he could never go back to being Dominic, not like this.

  And there was nothing keeping Adrian from telling anyone who he really was. He shook his head as his lungs squeezed shut and his pulse hammered up, a staccato beat that was too fast and too broken. “Fuck, Adrian. Please don’t tell...”

  If the public knew, then there’d be nothing left of Dominic anymore. Only Domino. Except, Domino? He wouldn’t exist, either. No one would believe his nerdy ass was a tough-as-nails, sexy, flippant rocker.

  Where would that leave the band? Or him? Who would he be without Twisted Wishes?

  Fuck, everything was done. Over. His legs shook and melted, and his vision tunneled as blackness closed in and the coffee table suddenly became a lot closer than it should have been.

  Strong arms wrapped around him and hauled him away from the table and he fell backward. When he could catch air a little again, he was sitting on the floor and was wrapped in Adrian’s arms, but everything hurt, his pulse was sky-high, and his chest felt like it would seize up any minute.

  He was going to pass out. Maybe that would be better. Yeah. Shit. Couldn’t even do that right. His gut tried to rebel.

  “Dominic, breathe.” Adrian’s strong voice. “Breathe.”

  He couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. Oh god, what would he tell Ray? There should have been more tears, but he couldn’t stop trembling.

  This time, Adrian’s voice cracked. “Babe, please. One deep breath. For me.”

  The distress in those words. Babe. Well, he could try. Dom sucked in a breath and exhaled.

  “Can you do another?”

  He could. And another and another. His vision cleared and the tightness in his chest loosened. Still ached all over, and his heart still threatened to burst from his chest.

  “I’m sorry.” Sorry he’d sat in that bar. Sorry he loved Adrian so much. Sorry he hadn’t said anything sooner. Hadn’t opened up and shared like Adrian had.

  Fuck, Adrian’s family had abandoned him. And now what the hell was Dom doing? Didn’t even know. Nothing made sense in the jumbled mess of his head.

  “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Slowly, Adrian unwrapped himself from Dom.

  Didn’t feel right to be alone, though. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. Dom closed his eyes.

  Warm fingers brushed his cheeks. “Would you like a blanket? Water?”

  Why was Adrian being so damn nice? Dom nodded because both of those sounded reasonable. And a quiet part of his mind whispered that he needed comfort. A safe place to recover.

  He heard Adrian withdraw, and blinked open his eyes to stare at the rug.

  Yeah, things were getting better. Shit. He hadn’t had a panic attack this bad since high school. Oh wow. Still—his cover was blown. What the hell was he supposed to do now? What had Adrian done?

  Adrian returned with a thick, soft fleece throw and draped it over Dom’s shoulders. “Ice or no?”

  Dom pulled the blanket tight around him, securing the world a little more. He’d always liked to be wrapped up. Covered. Bound.

  Huh.

  Strange what you realized sometimes when your mind was going in circles really fast. “Um. Can I have tea, maybe? Herbal or decaf or something.” He looked up and met Adrian’s gaze. “If that’s okay?”

  “Babe, I’ll get you anything you need.”

  That didn’t make sense. “I lied to you, Adrian.”

  A pinched expression crossed Adrian’s face. “You didn’t, actually. But let’s shelve that conversation for a little while?”

  Because Dom was sitting tightly wrapped in a blanket after nearly passing out, after wanting to throw up his heart and lungs and stomach onto the rug. That made sense.

  He exhaled. “Fuck,” he whispered, and pulled the fleece up over his head. “Shit.”

  “I’ll make you something. Hang on.” Adrian padded away, his footsteps light against the rug, then wood.

  Dom didn’t know which was worse, being in the middle of panicking, when he couldn’t breathe and thought he might explode, or the trembling afterward when the shame and self-flagellation kicked in. Should probably find a counselor or someone, ’cause his coping mechanisms were like fifteen years out of date and he felt like a goddamned fool breaking apart like that.

  Fucking tears finally came, and he was shaking and weeping by the time Adrian returned with a mug that smelled of mint and honey. He sat right down on the floor next to Dom.

  “Hey, babe. Here you go.”

  The mug warmed his hand when he claimed it from Adrian, and a sip warmed his mouth and throat. Another loosened the knot in his chest a little. “I’m a mess.”

  “No. You’re human.”

  Silence settled between them as Dom drank and blinked and let the tears dry up. Finally, he held the mug and asked the question he’d been dreading. “Who did you tell? About me being Domino?”

  Adrian fiddled with the toe of his sock and raised both eyebrows. “No one. I didn’t tell anyone.”

  A little chunk of panic fell away, to be replaced by a small pebble of shame. “Oh.”

  Adrian was still pulling at the material at his toes, bunching and twisting it. “It’s not my secret to tell and—” His voiced dropped, and he nearly pulled the sock off his foot. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset like that.”

  Dom rotated the mug in his hand. “Once I’m more coherent, I’ll go.”

  Adrian stilled. “You don’t have to.”

  Except he’d lied. He’d hidden who he was. “I broke your trust.” There wasn’t any coming back from that. He turned the mug in his hand again and sipped. “I—probably should have said no that first night.” Kept apart. Enjoyed his solitude. Gone for a simple fuck with someone, rather than this complicated, perfect, wonderful, beautiful thing he’d completely fucked up.

  A grunt from Adrian and an audible swallow, as if he were trying to keep something in. “Babe, don’t. Can we—I don’t want this to end. Especially not like this.”

  Dom hazarded raising his head. Looking at Adrian’s face was nearly as painful as the thought of vanishing from his life. Because all the poise and calm Dom was so used to were gone. Yeah, the strength was still there, but so was the shattered soul of someone who loved very hard and so so so much.

  Dom didn’t deserve a moment of it, a voice in his head whispered. Another answered that maybe, maybe he did.

  “Can I tell you why? Why Domino?”

  A slow nod. “I’d be honored if you did.”

  Those words pierced and stung, but in a good way. Like the first swallow of ice water in a parched throat.

  Maybe, maybe what Adrian had said was true. Maybe it would be all right.

  * * *

  Adrian rubbed the fabric of his socks between his fingers and quelled his own panic. Dominic was more or less sounding like himself again. God, watching him fall, watching him struggle to breathe, to find the safety he needed...

  Adrian’s fault. Of course there’d been a reason behind Domino. The rational part of him should have guessed that, but the emotional, fragile side only felt betrayed. He’d been utterly unfair. Mean, even. Not the actions of a lover or a friend.

  Dominic let the throw slip away from his head as he drank the tea. When he finished the mug, he set it down in front of himself, and lifted those beautiful eyes to stare at Adrian. “I met Ray Van Zeller in high school. He’s got this brain that’s full of words and music and—” Dominic shook his head. “He’s wicked smart, but st
ruggled a lot ’cause people saw a skinny kid wearing hand-me-downs who had a hard time with shit, so no one took the time to get to know him.”

  “You did, I bet.”

  Dom shrugged. “Not at first. We had a homeroom teacher who decided that rather than seating us alphabetically, to alternate. Bottom of the alphabet, then the top. So Ray ended up in front of me. Turned around and said hi. First kid ever to do that with nerdy me.” He paused. “And I was a complete nerd, every stereotype, and I got picked on a lot. I don’t even know why, but I could never dress cool. Even if I came in with the hottest T-shirt and perfect jeans, I’d get pushed around for that.”

  Kids were awful. Hell, adults were awful, but kids...they could be so damn cruel.

  “But Ray? He’s outgoing. Always was. Still is. You should see him onstage. He just...lives and breathes the music and the crowd and—” Dominic got this faraway look, one of deep passion and love. “He didn’t care what people thought. Just was himself.”

  This was the piece of what Adrian had been missing. The spark in Dominic he’d seen but never quite understood. “You love him.”

  Dominic started, then laughed. It was a pure sound, and one that melted Adrian’s heart a little, because it sounded like joy. “He’s my best friend. Like a brother. So yeah, I do. But not like I—” Dominic’s smile dropped away, and he looked down at the mug sitting before him.

  Adrian waited and held his breath.

  Slowly, Dominic looked up and locked gazes with him. “I don’t love him like I love you, Adrian.”

  Adrian let go of his sock. “Babe.” There were tears in Dominic’s eyes. In his own, too.

  A sad chuckle. “Not how I was supposed to tell you who I was and what I wanted.”

  They’d get through this. “It’s okay.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, maybe it is.” He blew out a breath. “Anyway, Ray and me? Became friends. Then he found out I could play guitar, ’cause my parents read this thing that said music was good for math and they thought I should be a scientist—” He broke off. “Fuck, I’m rambling.”

  Adrian resisted the urge to utter the words it’s okay again, but it was. Fuck, it was just fine. Rambling, talkative Dominic. Who loved him.

  “Anyway, he started trying to get me to play the songs in his head. And he’d write and write and write words and music in this odd shorthand he had.” Dominic shook his head and laughed. “God, we were so young back then!”

  “When did you first play music together?” Adrian absently gripped the toe of his other sock.

  “Summer between freshman and sophomore years. We were fifteen and thought we were the hottest shit ever.” Dominic gave a rueful laugh.

  Adrian eyed the magazine. “Well, you weren’t too far off the mark.”

  Dominic’s gaze followed his, and he gestured at the coffee table. “Can I see it? I haven’t read it.”

  Adrian grabbed the copy and handed it over. “I only flipped through the photos.”

  Another chuckle. “You and about a million other people.” He thumbed through the copy. “Sometimes it’s really surreal to see this. Like—I remember the photo shoot and the interview, but it’s...far away. I mean, this one must have been months ago. We just did one, recently, too. They all kind of blend together.” He touched a photograph of himself. “It feels like I’m someone else on these pages. Like it’s a dream.” His eyes were glassy when he looked at Adrian. “Or this, me now, is a dream. I never know which.”

  Oh. Understanding ripped through Adrian. Dominic was hiding. He was hiding both halves of himself from each other. Here was the heart of Dominic’s terror and fear, that if one was the truth, the other was a lie.

  He put his hand over Dominic’s. “Maybe both are real.”

  He’d seen Dominic the musician. He’d seen the strength, the knots, and the twines that held him up, like the tattoo on his shoulder that Adrian loved so much. He fucking knew every part of Dominic was real.

  “No. They can’t be.” Dominic’s chuckle broke Adrian’s heart. “Domino exists because when Ray asked me to get up onstage with him our sophomore year for the talent show, I spent the rest of the evening after puking and shaking and the rest of that week trying to will myself invisible. Everyone thought Ray was great and marveled at how a fucking dork like me could play the guitar. Didn’t believe it.”

  Because kids were cruel. But Dominic was both shy and fearless. Both timid and strong. Adrian suspected all of it had been hard-won. His skills. His education. So much he didn’t know about this man he could very well love forever. “So you made a persona.”

  Dominic nodded. “I could be someone else and get onstage. Someone not a dork or a nerd. A person no one would suspect was me because Dominic Bradley isn’t a rock star.” He paused. “Domino always knew he was one. From the moment he set foot onstage.” His eyes fluttered shut and his breathing slowed. A memory, probably. Reliving the experience. “I’m Domino when I’m there.”

  Adrian squeezed Dominic’s hand. No, he hadn’t known Dominic that long. A month and a couple weeks, really. Enough to start passionately loving the man, to see the possibilities that lay down the line if things continued. He didn’t know that much about Dominic’s past or Twisted Wishes or any of it, but he was damn sure that Dominic and Domino weren’t two different people, persona be damned. Because even in the photos, there were glimpses of the man he knew, and now he had a name for the steel and fire he saw in Dominic. The strength that lay at the base of him.

  Adrian rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “You’re not saying something,” Dominic muttered. “What aren’t you saying?”

  Adrian shrugged. “I think Dominic Bradley is a rock star. I think he’s also a scholar and incredibly intelligent. He’s sexy and fun and utterly unexpected. He looks damn fine in my ropes, too.” He twined Dominic’s fingers in his own. “And I want to know more about him...about you. I want to know the whole you.”

  Dominic tossed the magazine between them, but didn’t pull his hand away. “You were so mad at me for this.”

  That hit hard enough that Adrian flinched. “Yeah. I know. I shouldn’t have been. It’s—” He struggled to put his emotions into thoughts—he was a shitty poet, too. “It’s your secret to tell. I knew there were aspects of your life you weren’t sharing, and that was your right. I mean, I’m just a guy you met at a bar—”

  “You’re more than that.” Dominic’s voice was tight.

  “Now, yes. But—no one has the right to demand everything from you. You weren’t ready to tell me. And I shouldn’t have gotten mad because you didn’t. End of story.” Even when he’d discovered Dominic’s secret. After all, tonight he’d have found it all out anyway, and from the proper source. “I wish I could rewind to lunchtime and not bothered with the bookstore.”

  Dominic grunted. “I didn’t know how to tell you earlier. Because the thing is—I don’t want anyone to know. I mean, outside the band. They know.”

  And Adrian wasn’t the band. “Is it...anxiety?”

  “Kinda? That was the diagnosis way back when. My parents dragged me to see someone after that talent show, and they wanted me to stop the whole ‘band nonsense’ as they called it. But I wanted to be in Ray’s band.” He laughed. “And the therapist agreed I should try. We worked on coping mechanisms and the like, and the panic attacks lessened. This was the first really bad one in years.”

  “Fuck, I’m sorry.” Adrian shouldn’t have been such a shit.

  “But I should have told you. I mean, I trusted you enough to let you tie me up. After that weekend—” The throw slid off Dominic’s shoulders. “I was so fucked up, because it was perfect and beautiful and you’ve given me so much of myself.”

  He turned and held out his other hand. Adrian took it.

  “Fuck, Adrian. After the first time you put cuffs on me, I should have been able to tell you that I’m hidin
g from my big-name rock-star persona because if the world sees me like this, the twink in button-downs, I’m probably gonna pass out. And no one will ever look at Domino the same way again.”

  Except with the world the way it was...it would come out eventually. Secrets were hard to keep. But Adrian didn’t voice that, not now. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  Dominic nodded. “I know we were supposed to go to dinner—”

  “I’ll cancel the reservation.”

  “No,” Dominic breathed out. “Maybe move it back a little? Still gotta eat and I want... I want to do something normal with you. Be your boyfriend. Be—myself.”

  Of course he agreed. He kissed Dominic’s hand, then rose from the floor to call the restaurant. By the time he was done, Dominic was standing, too, the magazine in one hand, the blanket in the other. He stared at the cover, his brows furrowed, then tossed the blanket on the couch. “Are you gonna read this?”

  “I’d like to, if that’s okay.”

  One of Dominic’s smiles cracked through all the worry and pain. “Yeah. I think I’d like that. You’re right. This is my life, too.”

  It was, and one Adrian desperately wanted to know more about.

  Dominic handed him the magazine. “I should go piece myself back together well enough so we can eat.”

  The cover was slick under his fingers, and cool. Such a contrast between that and the warm, rough man before him. “My house is yours, Dominic. Always.”

  Dominic’s eyes widened. “Do you mean that?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” He opened his arms and Dominic folded into them, their cheeks brushing. “I adore you. I love you. I don’t want you to hurt. You can always come here.”

  “Library and all?” The words were muffled into Adrian’s sweater.

  “Especially there.” He stroked that lean back. It was glorious naked, and perfect clothed. He wondered what it looked like onstage.

  Dominic pulled back, and that beautiful grin had returned. “I’m so glad you sat down next to me all those weeks ago.”