Blank Space

by Francis Gideon

  "I know," Curtis said, cutting Adrian's somewhat manic tone off. "I know what you mean. Cheating is bad. But you know what Darcy and I usually say?"

  Adrian glanced at Curtis. Even in the darkness, Curtis could sense some desperation. "What?"

  "'Look, but don't touch'. That's our rule. When we first started dating, she and I would sometimes catch the other looking at people. And instead of feeling bad about it, though we did for like a week, we just decided to call it what it was. Just looking. We look and sometimes wonder, but that doesn't negate that we're together and love one another. Thoughts are just thoughts. They don't have to lead to action. And if you get mad at someone for thinking, then it's just thought police. Neither of us are down for that."

  As if on cue, Radiohead's "Karma Police" came over the radio. Adrian smiled and then grew serious again.

  "I know. That's logical. I think Simone and I have had the same conversation. I suppose I just feel bad every once in a while, thinking of men that way."

  "You shouldn't... I don't."

  "You still think about guys too?"

  "Um, yeah. More or less, anyway." Curtis made a face that Adrian couldn't see in the dark. He was pretty sure he had far less experience with guys than Adrian. Adrian had been forthright with his bisexual identity—actually using that word—when the two had met. Like anything else personal, Curtis had taken a while before he also confided. But when Adrian had admitted he'd just gotten a blowjob from some dude at a party, Curtis remembered feeling relieved. Curtis had liked men since he was very young, but he had also wanted to get married and have a family with kids. So he had thought, for a while, that he couldn't want two things at once. Adrian had told him that was the very point of attending university; it was a place to want everything before you had to pick something.

  Curtis admitted, even now, he was surprised that Adrian had gotten married and now had a daughter. He and Simone were a fantastic couple, but Adrian seemed so different than the person Curtis had known ten years ago. At thirty-seven, Adrian was a lot calmer than his reckless twenty-something self who, despite being in graduate school for law, didn't seem to care about the law at all. Now he had a successful practice. Some days, there seemed to be no trace of the man Adrian used to be when Curtis had first met him at that bus stop.

  Unless, of course, Curtis thought, we're talking about music. And especially Pixies. When "Debaser" came on the CD, Adrian made a noise of approval and turned the volume up again. Curtis wondered if they were about to drive away, then Adrian asked, "So what's your favourite thing to do with a guy?"

  "Um. I don't think I have one."

  "You don't?"

  "Nah. I just... I liked doing stuff. Whatever. I never wanted to question what happened when I got some action, I guess."

  Adrian nodded, seeming to understand. "I really like blowjobs."

  "Who doesn't?"

  "No, I mean giving them. I actually like being gagged. It seems odd—how often do women complain about it?—but the idea of being throat fucked sometimes gets me off even now. I don't even have to do it; just thinking about it brings me over the edge."

  Curtis wanted to say something, but he couldn't. Like before when Adrian described the make-out session at the party, Curtis's body reacted. His dick grew harder and harder as Adrian continued to describe throat fucking, and now it hurt to move. If they had been in a more secluded area, Curtis may have taken off his pants and touched himself. And if this had been his wife, he reminded himself. If Adrian had been Darcy.

  "And swallowing," Adrian went on. "I used to hate it. I still kind of do, but it's only because I would so much rather prefer the guy come on me. I had one guy who came on my face back in school, completely by accident, but then I ended up loving it so much I'd pretty much beg him to do it. He'd make me beg for it, because he was that type of guy, but then he'd always deliver. And now there's like porn dedicated to that!" Adrian laughed. "You ever see that?"

  "Yeah, of course," Curtis said. "I usually watch women, though."

  "In porn?" Adrian sighed when Curtis nodded. "Yeah, I sometimes watch that too. I will watch anything, honestly. But gay porn has changed so much into the past ten years so I think I give more attention to that for novelty alone."

  "Has it now?"

  "Uh-huh. It's hard to describe how it's changed. But you... you should check it out."

  Curtis nodded, though he wasn't sure if he really would.

  "And you?" Adrian added.

  "And me what?" Curtis paused and then remembered their conversation about blowjobs. "Oh. Um. Yeah, I like getting them."

  "Who doesn't?" Adrian asked, laughing a little. The comment hung on the air for a moment, before another car drove past them. Adrian seemed to realize how long he had been idling the car now that the lot was nearly empty. He sighed as he started the car again, his face more crestfallen than usual. Curtis tried to tell himself it was only because the show—and the atmosphere of the show—was really over now. No other reason to be sad.

  "Okay," Adrian began, buckling up again. "I think we're not gonna be jammed up on the Don Valley Parkway now. You ready to go?"

  "Uh-huh." Curtis leaned forward and turned the music up a little to combat with the engine's noise. When Marcy's Playground "Sex and Candy" came up, he skipped past it. Adrian seemed to notice, but didn't say anything.

  In the dark of the car ride, Curtis couldn't tell if Adrian was hard. But he caught himself wondering—imagining—what Adrian would do when he got home from the concert. Would he shower and try to jerk off in the stall? Would he think of old conquests as he did—or would he get off thinking about what limited information Curtis provided? Curtis suddenly never wanted more than to share something, something that didn't involve Darcy. But the few men he had jerked off had been high-school friends, during summers when they all claimed to just be 'bored' each time they decided to make out and get off. There had been one stranger at a party who had been Curtis's anonymous BJ booty call for a while in university, too. But Curtis didn't even remember his name now, let alone any particular distinct interaction that could be a good story.

  Then of course, Curtis thought, there's Adrian. Curtis couldn't exactly narrate those scenes to get them both off again. Could he? And what did it mean if he did? He and Adrian hadn't done anything like that in at least ten years. They had only really started to hang out again as friend in the last two years, after not speaking for an extended period of time. Curtis didn't know how precarious their still new, but still also very old, friendship was. And he didn't want to shatter it with something as frivolous as a sex story.

  "You want anything before I drop you off?" Adrian asked.

  Curtis looked up, noticed they were heading towards a Tim Horton's, but shook his head.

  "Nah, I should go to bed. Have to go to work tomorrow."

  Adrian nodded, sour expression on his face. "Ugh, right. Of course. I loved the show, but really? Concerts on a Wednesday night?"

  "Pfft. I know. We're getting old."

  Adrian grinned, but it looked pained. Curtis wanted to add, Hey, we're old, but at least we have time for shows now!, but he didn't. The point was obvious. Their kids were both in elementary school and there were no more awkward babysitters to call to look after toddlers during work hours. They were both slowing eking back their spare time, Curtis realized. Their kids were only going to get older.

  When Curtis'd had kids, he had worried that his life had truly and irrevocably changed. And it had—he had kids now and was happy with them—but he soon realized that having kids didn't mean that he would never have spare time again. In the car, he realized he had been counting down to the Pixies show as if it had been an oasis in the middle of the desert; a brief glimpse into his past life as a concert goer and music fiend, not as an ad exec with kids and a mortgage. But it wasn't an oasis, a one-time thing. He and Adrian could do this again. They could find more shows. There wasn't just Pixies. There were whole multitudes of bands they hadn't heard in years,
like on this mix CD, that could keep them company for a little while longer. They could look forward, Curtis thought, and make new memories together instead of meander around the fun—but sometimes difficult—past between them.

  "Here you are," Adrian said, pulling into Curtis's driveway.

  "Hey, thanks for the ride. And the company."

  Adrian grinned. Curtis waited, worrying his lip. He was still half-hard in his pants, but he tried to ignore it. "So… we should do this again. It was fun."

  "Yeah, it was." Adrian grinned in a way Curtis hadn't seen in years—with crinkling skin around his eyes and a lift to his chin. "We definitely should."

  Chapter Two

  Curtis got up to the buzz of his alarm. He heard the hum of his kids and Darcy downstairs already, eating breakfast and packing up for school. He thanked her silently in his head as he headed down the hallway uninterrupted and got into that shower he really, really needed.

  "You can take them, right?" Darcy asked as soon as Curtis opened the bathroom door. He held a towel around his waist and felt the steam escape behind him from the shower stall. He still needed to shave, but he wasn't going to use the family bathroom for that—razors around the girls' bathroom supplies were never a good idea. He nodded to Darcy as they both started to walk towards their bedroom and the small ensuite bathroom. She held a basket of laundry to her waist and placed it on the bed to fold as they talked.

  "The girls?" Curtis asked. "Where are they?"

  "Colouring before we leave. Behaving, thank goodness. But you can drive?"

  "Yes, D, of course. I just need to shave first." Curtis glanced at the bedside clock. Almost eight now. His office let him come in by ten, so he could take his kids to school and miss some of the rush hour traffic. He was often home by seven-thirty at night, so he could take his girls to bed and spend some time with Darcy before he finally slept.

  "Sure, of course. Sorry, I realized I asked you about it twice. I didn't mean to bug you. Just missed you last night, I suppose." She leaned inside the bathroom to give Curtis a quick kiss before returning to her laundry. "I remember you getting into bed last night, but I never got to ask: how was the show?"

  "Good." Curtis grinned underneath the shaving cream that was half covering his face. His heart thundered in his chest and his desire kick started again. Curtis swallowed and pushed it aside as he ran the razor across his chin.

  "Just good?"

  "What do you want, D?" Curtis said, shooting her a playful look in the mirror. "It was fantastic. Thank you for getting the tickets. But it also made me feel really old."

  "Because you hadn't gone to a show in a while?"

  "That and the songs. At times it was just really, really nostalgic. But a lot of fun too. Of course."

  "Good. That's really all I could hope for. A little walk down memory lane, but not too overwhelming." Darcy's smile warmed his heart in a way she still could even after eight years of marriage, and nearly ten years of dating. "I hope you can do it again."

  "Yeah," Curtis said, staring at his reflection. "Me too."

  *~*~*

  Curtis glanced into the rear-view mirror at Sierra, his oldest daughter. She sat flopped in her child-safety seat, arms folded across her chest.

  "What's wrong, Sea?"

  "Nothing." She huffed and her blonde bangs fluttered against her forehead. For seven years old, she was already pretty good at affecting nonchalant and passive-aggressive answers.

  "Not nothing," Curtis corrected. "You're sad. It's okay to be sad. But we need to talk about our feelings. So what's up?"

  Sierra's bangs fluttered again. Curtis was almost going to let it all go, when she started to speak in her tiny voice. Curtis turned the radio down even lower and asked her to repeat herself. "Sorry, girl. I know it's hard. But please tell me again? I can hear better now."

  "I… I missed the field trip last week."

  "To the Science Centre?"

  Sierra nodded. "Everyone's been talking about it. Krista keeps showing everyone the rock and stuffed animal her mom got her at show and tell. She won't shut up."

  "Sierra. Nicer words, please," Curtis said. When Sierra's cheeks went pink, he figured he didn't need to chastise her anymore. Especially because she was apparently already suffering pretty hard herself. Last week, Sierra had woken up with a fever that was high enough for Darcy to hiss at the thermometer after she had taken it. Sierra had obviously been okay—her fever had broken by the time Darcy got her a doctor's appointment for late that afternoon—but she had missed enough of class to feel excluded during their sharing sessions, and that field trip had definitely been a no-go the following day.

  "Is anyone else giving you a hard time about missing the trip?" Curtis asked. "Did you need to do homework for it? I can help, or speak to Mrs. Donaldson."

  Sierra shrugged. She and Lacey, Curtis's other daughter, turned to one another and started to discuss something in hushed tones. Sierra was a good student—unlike Curtis back in the day—so his offer to help with homework probably didn't do much for her spirits. She was probably still too young to grasp the urgency of grades, really. At a stoplight, while Lacey and Sierra continued to sing about something Curtis couldn't hear the words for, Curtis realized more tangibly what Sierra had been missing: community. Everyone was talking about the same thing, and she was left out. It was really just as simple as that.

  "Hey, you two," Curtis called. Sierra and Lacey both looked up, blue and brown eyes wide. Lacey was four, but in her own car seat, she looked just as big and tall as Sierra. "What if I take you to the Science Centre?"

  "Really?" Sierra said.

  "Yeah. Maybe this weekend?" Curtis struggled to remember if there was anything planned. Usually in the winter, they were good; it was too cold to go outside and join anything yet. And Darcy's party planning business she ran herself wasn't going to really kick start until spring when all the wedding showers she'd be ask to organize would begin.

  "You and Mom will take us?" Sierra asked.

  "Yeah, of course. Wait…" Curtis suddenly trailed off, remembering Darcy's schedule in vivid terms. Weddings were far off for her to help plan, but there were always baby showers. And babies came at all times of the year.

  Crap, Curtis realized. Darcy did have something on Saturday. She was supposed to organize a 'surprise sex' baby shower with one of those cakes that revealed the answer. She hated the idea—she'd always hated people fixating on her baby's sex so much while she was pregnant—but a client was a client, and Darcy had been tracking down bakeries all week. Curtis suddenly felt bad that he may have just promised his daughters a good time, only to take it back again, when another idea dawned on him.

  "No, I think Mom's busy, but what if Kayla came with us? And maybe Kayla's dad Adrian? Would that be all right?"

  "Yeah!" Sierra's eyes widened. Even Lacey seemed excited by the prospect of another girl coming over to play. Especially since Adrian lived on the other side of the city, which meant that Kayla—in spite of being only a year younger than Sierra—went to a different school. Curtis let out a low breath, relieved with this new strategy. He had made his kids happy, which was really the best thing he could do. Darcy was always just so much better at keeping things together than he was; anytime he could even come close to mirroring her expertise he felt more accomplished than with anything else.

  "Tell you guys what, I'll ask Adrian today and hopefully he and Kayla are free. You two start thinking of sandwich and snack ideas for me so I know what to pack, okay? Then if Kayla and Adrian can go, we have the entire afternoon already planned out. We will have fun, and you can tell all your friends on Monday about what you saw. Sound good, girls?"

  More cheers erupted from the back. Curtis was about to tell them both to calm down, when he realized they were close enough to the school for him not to care. He pulled into the lot, undid their belts, and made sure both Lacey and Sierra got to their separate classes. Lacey had just started all-day kindergarten, so she still had some separation anxie
ty for such a long period of time. After Curtis hugged and kissed her goodbye in the brightly coloured front hall, assuring him a billion times that Mom would come and get her later today, he felt for his phone in his pocket. There was already a message from Adrian he hadn't seen yet. Curtis's face reddened as his eyes skimmed over the message.

  Had a lot of fun last night, Adrian had written. Debaser has been in my head since the car. I really hope we can hang out again. Maybe I should start looking up shows again? It's been so long…

  Yeah, do that, man. I would love to go out again. Curtis paused, wondering if he should correct what he meant by 'go out'. He pushed on instead. He was going to be late for work if he kept checking and cross checking his own responses and impulses. But for now, how do you feel about taking the girls to the Science Centre?

  *~*~*

  Curtis adjusted his tie in the office bathroom mirror. As he leaned close, he noticed a patch of stubble on his chin he had missed while shaving this morning and hoped no one else would scrutinize his appearance. He had one of his project meetings with his supervisor and the company's head boss in a few minutes. He and his work partner, Silas, were to reveal a new ad design. It really wasn't anything new or challenging for Curtis, just end-of-quarter evaluations for the next period, but the song-and-dance routine always made Curtis feel like his skin was transparent. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he made sure his suit and tie covered what was hidden underneath: a band T-shirt and tattoos. Today his shirt was a vintage Audioslave tee he had found at a thrift store that he was surprised was still holding together. As for tattoos, Curtis wasn't exactly covered in them, but he definitely couldn't wear shorts or T-shirts comfortably around people from his office anymore. Not that he would have been so inclined to do so, anyway. His advertising firm wasn't the company-picnic type.

  "You ready to go?" Silas, Curtis's co-worker and partner for the meeting, slipped his head into the bathroom and found Curtis's gaze in the reflection. "C'mon, man. You look great. Stop nitpicking and let's give them the ol' razzle dazzle."