Yes—I have dated women. I love women. I love men, too. You all want the right to love and marry whoever who choose. All I'm asking is that you give me that right, too. You will fight for my right to marry a man. Don't deny me the right to marry my soul mate if that person turns out to be a woman. There's nothing wrong with being bisexual, just like there's nothing wrong with being gay or straight.
You think that I've played with Michael's emotions? I'll tell you now that I have never lied to him; I've never hidden anything about my past. I've opened up to him in ways I've never opened up to anyone. I'm not "gay for him" or any of the other rumors I've heard floating around out there. I'm not experimenting with him or pretending to like men. Believe me—there are plenty of photos out there that will prove that.
Take a look at your actions. They look a lot like what the haters do to us all the time, telling us that our love and our marriages are unnatural and perverse. They're not. You know that, and I know that. We know that there is nothing wrong with love; there is nothing wrong with wanting what you want. Don't make it wrong for me to have loved who I've loved just because you'd prefer me to love Michael and no one else.
*~*~*
"I'd say your post was pretty successful," Michael commented. He bent to drink from a bubbler and momentarily distracted Gabriel, who was drawn to the sight of his puckered lips.
Gabriel sighed to himself. Would he ever be able to look at Michael without a swarm of butterflies attacking his stomach? Part of him hoped not.
"Well, no one's picketing me. That's a plus."
Michael grinned. "You put them in their place. They haven't been chastised like that in a long time—not by somebody who was right."
"I suppose so."
"The Ancient Egyptians didn't hate gays the way people do now," Michael commented, gesturing to an Eye of Horus carving on display. They were touring a museum on an off day, just the two of them. If the rest of the band had any thoughts about the pair of them spending so much time together, they kept it to themselves. "In fact, the gods Seth and Horus seduce each other in a number of texts."
Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "What are you, a walking gay encyclopedia?"
Michael grinned. "In Ancient Rome, there were entire armies made of gay soldiers. They thought that soldiers fought better when they were fighting to protect and impress their lovers."
"That's smarter than 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell,'" Gabriel replied dryly.
"In Native American cultures, there were lesbian hunters that were forbidden to sleep with men because they thought it would ruin their hunting prowess."
"You are a gay encyclopedia."
Michael grinned and shrugged. "It interests me, you know? How much people can change over time. How did we go from being so tolerant to so hateful?"
Gabriel hesitated. "I don't mean to start a religious debate, but a lot of people are willing to point the finger at Christianity—or any mainstream religion."
Michael was quiet for a moment. "It's funny how a book about love can be so misinterpreted."
Gabriel simply nodded, hoping to nip the conversation in the bud. He didn't want to discuss religion or gay history. He wanted to be with Michael.
Michael seemed to catch his expression because he took Gabriel's hand and tugged him in the direction of the next exhibit: Native American tribes.
Gabriel couldn't breathe. Michael was holding his hand. Michael was holding his hand. He was absolutely positive that Michael had never held his hand before, and as a result, his stomach was alive with butterflies and his heart was in his throat.
A million voices were screaming in his head. He was going to fuck up the band. Michael only wanted him for sex, not for music. Michael and Zadkiel had history. He was going home in a week.
He forced the voices to shut up, and the ones that wouldn't be silenced, he ignored. If he only had a week left, he was going to make the most of it.
That was how, four hours later, he found himself in Michael's bed, wrapped around him as Michael fucked him.
"Oh, Michael." He couldn't shut up around Michael. He'd never been a talker or a screamer, but Michael brought out both in him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck … Michael." He'd already come, and he was so sensitive that it only made their lovemaking more intense.
Michael made a choking sound; Gabriel could already recognize it as a few seconds warning before he came. He watched with wide eyes as Michael came apart above him, choking on pleasure and exploding.
"Gabriel!" He cried out, screaming in ecstasy as he came. "Oh, Gabriel!"
When Gabriel had trouble falling asleep after, he realized he didn't mind that Michael called him Gabriel and not Jackson.
*~*~*
"You wanna come with me?"
Gabriel looked up from the crossword puzzle he was doing—well, attempting to do. He was useless with crossword puzzles. "To the radio spot?"
Michael smiled, clearly pleased that Gabriel was—finally— keeping up with the schedule. "Yeah."
Gabriel thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Yeah, okay."
Michael's smile widened. "Awesome."
The people at the radio station did not look pleased. There were none of the smiles or warm greetings that Gabriel always saw in online interviews. The people there looked at him like he was an insect, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. They didn't really say anything, but their silence wasn't warm or friendly.
"This is Gabriel," Michael introduced for politeness' sake; everyone knew who Gabriel was.
The producers grumbled their hellos. "We only set up the mics for one of you," one of them finally grunted and it was as if the short sentence was ripped from him. Honestly, Gabriel thought, how hard was it for them to not be fully in control of something? Or did they have something against him?
Michael raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Gabriel. Gabriel swallowed. He didn't want to cause trouble. He was about to offer to just go back to the bus and hang out with Ariel when Michael finally said in a cool voice, "I'm the only one doing this radio shoot. Gabriel came with me to escape the tour bus."
It wasn't particularly funny, but the producers all eagerly laughed at Michael's comment like they knew a thing about living on a tour bus. They seemed like a bunch of posers to Gabriel; they probably didn't know a thing about the music he loved. Still, he was glad that the tension seemed to have dissipated—at least for the time being.
"If you'll come with us, Michael."
Michael shrugged out of his coat. "I'll be done in twenty minutes, tops. They just want me to say a couple words about the new single. They won't listen to most of my spiel anyway." He held out his coat to Gabriel. "Watch my jacket? Fingers crossed, this European producer I've been dying to work with will be calling sometime soon."
Gabriel nodded hesitantly and set the jacket on a chair. This entire situation was incredibly awkward, and he wasn't quite sure how it had gotten that way. He sat in a chair in the lounge. He fiddled with the strings on his hoodie, he played with his hair, he picked at the holes in his jeans…
It was going to be a long twenty minutes.
A sudden buzzing broke up the angry silence in the room. Gabriel checked his phone; it was still on silent. Then he realized that the sound was coming from Michael's jacket. He dug in the pockets until he found Michael's phone.
Zadkiel Calling was displayed across the screen. Gabriel frowned. Why was Zadkiel calling Michael? His first reaction was to shove the phone back in Michael's pocket, or better yet, hit ignore. That sounded too much like a jealous ex, though, and the logical part of his brain advised that maybe something was wrong, and Zadkiel actually needed to talk with Michael. Maybe it was some kind of emergency. Why else would Zadkiel be calling? He answered hesitantly, "Hello?"
Zadkiel hesitated as well. "Is Michael there?"
"He's doing a radio spot right now. This is Gabriel. Can I take a message?"
"Gabriel?" Zadkiel sounded surprised.
"Yeah. Oh—while I've got you
on the line, thanks for digging up all those photos of me and the chicks I've dated. That was real sweet of you."
"The public has a right to know."
"It's really none of their business—or yours. I can date whoever I want."
"Can you?" The way he said it suggested that maybe Zadkiel knew how he felt about Michael. But that wasn't possible—was it?
Gabriel glowered. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Whatever you want it to. Have Michael call me." The line went dead.
Gabriel squeezed the phone tightly. How dare Zadkiel suggest he knew him and what he wanted? What gave him the right to butt in on his life or Michael's? For a moment, he wished he had super strength to crush the phone into dust in his hand. But no higher power had decided to help him out, and it stayed firmly intact. He tucked it back into Michael's pocket.
As promised, it was a short interview, and a few minutes later, Michael was shaking hands with producers and ready to go.
"Ready?" he asked Gabriel with a smile Gabriel didn't return, picking up his jacket.
Gabriel simply nodded and followed him out. He had a million questions, but he wasn't sure how to ask any of them—or if he was entitled to ask any of them. Or if he wanted to know the answers. Maybe it was best that he tuck away his unrest and save it for a later date. They returned to the bus, and he still hadn't said a word.
"What is it?" Michael said forwardly, a light demand. He crossed his arms and stood his ground.
Gabriel looked up at Michael as he barred the door, caught off guard. "What?" He was surprised by Michael's question. He hadn't thought Michael would notice his brooding silence. Apparently, Michael noticed more about him than he thought. A part of him cheered at the idea.
"You haven't said two words since the interview. What's going on?"
He hesitated, decided he didn't have the strength to wrestle past Michael to get into the bus or the desire to walk to the next city, and then flatly said, "Zadkiel called." He was a shitty liar; it was best just to spit out the truth and be done with it.
Michael looked shocked. "Oh."
"Yeah."
Michael didn't say anything, and Gabriel sighed. He couldn't explain why, but he felt frustrated that Michael wasn't taking the initiative to share any information with him, that Michael was making him ask for it. He could play Michael's game.
"What's going on, Michael? Zadkiel is your business. Fine. I get it. But I can't do this," he gestured between the two of them, "if you're in a relationship." What they had wasn't really a relationship, not really, but it was something. Michael wasn't still with Zadkiel. He couldn't be. Could he?
"I'm not in a relationship."
"But you were." Gabriel was simply stating a fact. "Zadkiel sent me pictures weeks ago. I've seen them."
Michael's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. "He what?" He sounded both outraged and shocked, and Gabriel hesitated for a beat before pushing himself to continue what he'd started. It had been a hard enough conversation to get to in the first place. Having to start again at a later date would be wrenching.
"He emailed them to me. I'd been here, what? Maybe a week, and he sent me pics and an email."
"What pictures?" Michael's voice was hard. "And what did he say?"
Gabriel didn't understand why Michael was getting angry, but he didn't back down. "He said you didn't give a shit about me or my career—you just wanted sex. And there's a half dozen pictures of the two of you in bed together. Nothing graphic or exploitative. Just incredibly intimate."
Michael turned away. Gabriel could see how tense his muscles were. "Michael."
"What?" Michael didn't look at him.
"I need to know."
Michael seemed to deflate then. "Come on." He led Gabriel through the bus and into the back lounge, locking the door behind them. Gabriel tried not to show his surprise. Clearly, whatever Michael had to say was big.
Michael sat on the couch but didn't look at Gabriel. He ran his hands over the thighs of his pants and glanced around the room, all while avoiding Gabriel's eyes. "Zadkiel and I were together," Michael said finally.
It was a bit anticlimactic, really, Gabriel thought. He knew they'd been together; Michael knew he knew. It wasn't exactly an impressive revelation.
"We kept it a secret from everybody. We never hung out in public; we never flirted. We were always on our guard to make sure that no one would have a clue what was going on. We didn't want them digging around in our business and that kind of shit.
"For a while, things were great. We were happy. We were in love, we were touring sold-out stadiums, we were on top of the world.
"But that wasn't enough for Zadkiel. He wanted more. He wanted the entire world to know we were together, but I fought him. I told him we wouldn't have any privacy if they knew, that every day we'd be reading trash about each other in the tabloids. What kind of relationship is that? I think the only reason he didn't tell anyone was because our manager made him sign an NDA when we started dating."
"NDA?" Didn't that just apply to kinky BDSM relationships—or was that just in books?
"Non-Disclosure Agreement, saying he wouldn't talk about our relationship without my permission. It's a really shitty thing when you don't trust someone enough and you need contracts to keep your relationship safe. It's like pre-nups—if you don't trust someone enough not to run off with your money, you shouldn't be marrying them. Maybe I should've seen straight then, but I thought I loved him, even if I didn't know if I could trust him. I was an idiot." Michael gave a faint smile, like was laughing at himself, and shook his head.
"But like I said, he wanted the world to know we were an item, and that's when the fighting started. He said I was ashamed of him, that I was planning to break up with him. He got petty and jealous, but maybe he had a right to be insecure. I did make him sign an NDA after all. Somewhere deep down, I didn't trust him. How can you love someone if you don't trust them?"
Gabriel didn't know what to say, which was just as well, because he had to assume Michael was asking a rhetorical question. He'd known Zadkiel and Gabriel had history, but nothing so emotionally committed or complex.
Michael looked down, playing with the seam of his pants rather than looking Gabriel in the eye. Clearly this was hard for him to remember, and even harder to say.
"He started sleeping around. It took me forever to believe the rumors and even longer to catch him doing it. I wanted to work on our relationship; I was stupid enough that I wanted to fix things and be with him still. And he just kept fucking up. He said it was sick that he didn't have to hide being a slut from the press, but he had to hide being my boyfriend. He said I didn't care about him as a person; I just wanted him to be mine. I wanted him to be my dirty little secret."
Michael looked away, his jaw tightening for a moment like he was fighting back the emotions remembering his past brought. Gabriel longed to reach out to him, but he just didn't know what was acceptable for their odd relationship. Then Michael looked back at him, his eyes hurt and angry.
"He said he felt like he was in a cage, like I was controlling him and dominating his life. That I'd taken away all his free will. Eventually, he gave me an ultimatum: either go public, or he'd leave the band.
"I couldn't believe it. Who makes someone make that choice? No one should have to choose like that. I couldn't believe he was willing to leave me over something like that. And I said no. I told him I couldn't risk letting the tabloids ruin our relationship. I begged him to stay. I offered him anything. But he said no."
Michael's hands settled in his lap with a little helpless gesture. His eyes left Michael's for a moment, remembering, and then he shook his head with that same helplessness.
"Zadkiel broke my heart when he left. When he walked out that door, he essentially told me that I meant nothing to him, that all the months we put into our relationship meant nothing. He not only left me, he left the band. He could have ruined everything just to get away from me."
Michael
shook his head sadly. "That's why I didn't want to get in a relationship with you. I couldn't risk hurting the band again."
"Hurting the band?" Gabriel repeated. He was only a temporary fill in; they both knew that. Was the band really Michael's concern?
"I couldn't risk you hurting me," Michael whispered, his eyes vulnerable with none of his cocky attitude to shield him.
Gabriel hesitated, caught off guard by the look and his admission. "But you're with me now."
Michael simply nodded.
"Why? No one made me sign an NDA. You know I'm going to leave in a week."
Michael met his eyes. "As soon as our manager heard me talking about you, he wanted you to sign. But I told him no."
Gabriel frowned, puzzled. That was huge. Michael had known him for only a few hours, and he'd trusted him enough not to make him sign an NDA? Couldn't he see just how important that was? "You trusted me when you didn't even know me. Why?"
"You're special." The way he said it made it sound like so much more than those two little words.
"What are we doing?" Gabriel's words meant more too.
"I don't know."
*~*~*
Gabriel took some time to himself after his conversation with Michael.
What were they doing?
Everyone knew they were an item. They'd announced it on stage to the entire world before they even hooked up, back when there had only been that molecular, undeniable attraction between them. It didn't matter that they hadn't made any press statements about their relationship. They spent all their time together; they held hands in public. The fans went crazy about their relationship.
Gabriel was going to leave. They both knew he'd been hired for a four-week gig. His four weeks were nearly up, and when they were, he was headed back to work as a waiter in Joliet. He'd never see Michael again.
What were they doing?
*~*~*
The next night, as they bused away from the Milwaukee venue, Michael lay awake in bed thinking about Gabriel.
Rocking Hard, Volume 2 Page 9
