Blue Jay

by A Zukowski

  human race in a reproductive way!”

  Liam says, “They say two point four, Chris.”

  Deadpan as always, Chris ignores them. “I was a

  champ at maths in school, me. Decimal, dismal.”

  Alex shakes his head and smiles, joined by Ali and

  Liam.

  “The flat’s nothing fancy, I’m afraid. You’ll see,”

  Alex tells their friends.

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  “We can’t afford anything else. Alex wants to

  leave his security job soon, and I want to work as

  little as possible. My arse is getting old.”

  Liam rolls his eyes. “Jeez, Chris! We don’t want to

  hear about your anatomical details.”

  Chris has kept some regulars, but she’s thinking

  of other part-time jobs. Money will be tight if she

  gives up sex work altogether, but for once in her life,

  she has plans for her future and they involve Alex.

  She’s going back to school and looking for some

  other work experience.

  Alex and Chris are holding hands, grinning with

  contentment in the back seat.

  Liam half turns around. “I was only teasing. I’m

  so proud of you, Chris. So happy for you two. You

  guys are too sickly sweet.” He asks his boyfriend,

  “Hey, what do you think?”

  Ali, the quieter one, beams but offers no

  comment. Alex rubs Chris’s neck and they gaze into

  each other’s eyes and smile.

  Ali and Liam help with the unloading and stay for

  a coffee, but they make an excuse to leave so that

  Chris and Alex can cherish their first night alone in

  their new accommodation.

  ~~~

  It has been an exhausting day. Excitement and

  euphoria from finally moving out of the shithole

  they’ve

  lived

  in

  are

  quickly

  followed

  by

  apprehension. Chris has never lived with someone.

  No one has gone past all his defences to reach the

  three-month stage, let alone this kind of

  commitment.

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  Caresses.

  Alex traces his fingers down Chris’s smooth chest.

  “It feels great to have our own place, but it’s been a

  long time since I lived with a partner. You’re not

  only starting a life with me. You’ll have to live with

  my depression.”

  “Oh, honey. Believe me, my life with Annette has

  tooled me up to deal with personal crises.”

  “I’m not sure if I can always get it up. It’s a side

  effect… You’re probably looking for some steaming

  sex. The woody when I sleep next to you? It

  sometimes disappears when I touch myself. I can’t

  always revive the little fucker.”

  Chris kisses the line of hair down Alex’s front to

  shut him up. He lifts his face. “You were great the

  other night. I don’t care about that, Alex. We’ll take

  it as it comes. Remember, whatever happens, it

  won’t change how I feel about you.”

  “I want you so much. Some days I feel as though

  my dick doesn’t belong to me anymore.” Alex

  sounds frustrated.

  Chris chuckles. “Because it belongs to me now.

  Personally, I think sex is overrated. Look at the

  exorbitant prices people pay me.” He winks at Alex.

  Chris teases the head of Alex’s semi-hard dick

  with his cool fingertips, and Alex’s cock jumps.

  Chris sits up, observing Alex’s body and grinning as

  if he hasn’t a care in the world.

  “Alex, this is what I call an erection, and I’m

  happy to see it.”

  He moves down again and uses his palm to

  massage Alex’s balls while licking and sucking him

  at the same time. The divine smell of Alex down

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  there engulfs him. He indulges in Alex’s unique

  scent. Doing this in their own space means so much

  for Chris, this momentous, beautiful thing infused

  with yearning and a knowledge that Alex is all he

  wants. Being with Alex feels like the first non-

  fucked-up thing Chris has done in his entire life.

  He wraps his mouth around Alex’s cock, and Alex

  follows Chris’s lead, pushing himself deeper down

  Chris’s throat.

  “I’ve been wanting you…so much.” Alex’s

  quivering voice is low and tender.

  Chris lifts his eyes and considers Alex,

  contemplating all his solid flesh and boldness, his

  past, his present laid out for Chris to explore. Chris

  cannot tear his eyes away from Alex. He loves Alex

  —a feeling that has been so alien—as if he has

  learned to see the world anew.

  Alex gazes at Chris intently, as though he

  understands this fragile, yet strong, connection

  between them.

  “I love you too, Chris.”

  Chris smiles, happiness reaching every part of his

  face. “Our first time wasn’t a fluke. You haven’t

  forgotten how to have sex after all.”

  He returns to Alex’s cock. He has one purpose

  now—to make Alex feel good, to chase his demons

  away. Alex has awakened his latent superpowers.

  They face each other with Chris hooking his legs

  around Alex’s powerful body. Alex closes his eyes.

  Chris’s senses heighten, shrouded in Alex’s heat.

  They move in unison as Alex chases his orgasm. He

  wraps his big hands around Chris’s erection and

  strokes until Chris lets out a deep and primal groan

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  and comes.

  “I’m getting addicted to your post-sex smile. I

  want to make you happy like that,” Alex says.

  Alex’s rough fingertip skates across the scar; it’s

  faint but still noticeable close up. On Chris’s inner

  thigh, the three-inch line starts close to his arsehole.

  Chris touches the mark as he tells Alex his secret.

  ~~~

  I was living in another shared flat. This guy

  moved in, and he was a bodybuilder type. We didn’t

  get on, but I wasn’t too bothered.

  I never had problems before in the flat, letting the

  other sharers know what I did for a living. But I

  could see something dangerous lurking behind the

  glint in his eyes when he found out I was an escort,

  as though he had me in his viewfinder. I avoided

  him like a plague, but he used to creep me out on

  purpose: being too close and making transphobic

  remarks because of how I look. One day, I’d slept

  late and he should have been at work.

  I had woken up about two in the afternoon and

  got up to use the bathroom. I wore a long T-shirt.

  When I came out of the bathroom, he was standing

  there, smoking and watching me, his eyes travelling

  up and down my body, leaving me vulnerable to his

  hatred.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I asked.

  He licked his lips. “Why don’t you suck my dick?

  I’m sure you’re pretty good to get paid for it. A pair

  of firm lips you’ve got there.”

  He was wearing sweatpants that were faded and

&n
bsp; too small for him. His hand meandered to his groin

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  where the pale grey fabric stretched.

  “Are you fucking serious?” I spat and turned to go

  back into my room, but he grabbed me from behind

  and pulled me back.

  I elbowed him and tried to wriggle out of his hold.

  He was a brawny gym rat, so he was way stronger.

  His iron grip was hurting me.

  “Get your hands off me.” I twisted and brought

  my knee up to kick him in his nuts.

  He only tightened his hold and laughed at my

  attempt. The more I struggled, the more he

  managed to lock me with his arm. I can still

  remember the anchor tattoo on his skin, the fading

  blue seeming too vivid on the tan arm. The only

  advantage I had was my height, but he was trained

  and recognised he needed to drag me down. He

  used his arm to choke me and pull me onto the

  floor.

  I was breathless, but I elbowed him again and

  kicked out my legs in the hope I’d loosen his hold. I

  upturned the coffee table and everything on it

  scattered on the floor. I thought about dying on that

  dirty carpet with the contents of the ashtray and the

  empty beer cans.

  “Stop fucking moving, Chris.”

  The anchor was still right under my chin when I

  felt a cold, blunt object against my neck. It was a

  flick knife. I froze, sweat chilling my skin.

  “How about this? You’ll have a hard time selling

  yourself with a long scar on your pretty face, right?”

  Glee filled his words.

  My body stiffened. I couldn’t take any chances. I

  went still, paralysed by his threat.

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  “Thought so. Stop fucking moving.”

  “What do you want?” I asked, my voice barely

  audible.

  “I wanna fuck you. I’ve never had a man-whore

  before. I bet your arse is tighter than most pussies.”

  I couldn’t do anything but comply, while the tip of

  the knife pressed against my neck. He pushed me

  into his bedroom.

  “Strip off. What are you waiting for?”

  He raped me. He was harsh, brutal and laughing

  at me the whole time. He must have seen me in my

  dresses sometimes because he kept calling me a

  dirty slut and a freak. Hopelessness gripped me

  while I was face down on the bed, and I let him get

  away with it. I was thankful when I heard him open

  the condom packet.

  The familiar crinkly sound brought a sense of

  worthlessness.

  As soon as he finished, I got up to dress, but he

  grabbed my hair and pushed me back down on the

  mattress. I had longer hair that I usually tied up

  then. I stared at his ugly face.

  I hissed as the sharp pain seared through my

  body.

  Wanting to escape as soon as I could, I hurriedly

  dressed, while he laughed at me.

  “A little reminder for you freaks out there.” He

  used his thumb and forefinger to lift my face up.

  “And I wouldn’t tell a soul if I were you. Anyway, no

  one’s going to believe a pretty whore like you, are

  they?”

  He released me finally. “Now get out of my

  room.”

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  I rushed back to my room and saw how he had

  shanked me. I used only tissue to stop the blood,

  enough to pack my stuff and leave, and I never

  returned.

  ~~~

  Chris’s eyes are full of unshed tears, glimmering

  in the soft light in their bedroom. He uses his

  fingertips to dry off the moisture.

  Alex’s jaw clenches. “What the fuck! And you

  never reported him?” His fists tighten, as though he

  is ready to kill the man.

  Chris shakes his head. “He was right. Who’d

  believe me? Or care?”

  Alex pulls him close in a tight hug. “They should.

  I do. He might hurt other people like you.” He

  kisses Chris tenderly.

  “Like me, huh? After the attack, I hated myself so

  much. I knew it wasn’t my fault, but it didn’t make

  it easy to like myself. No one respects me.”

  “Oh, Chris. You have a pure heart. Did no one tell

  you that?” Alex kisses Chris’s cheek. “Was that

  before or after the attack on the street?”

  “It was after. Yeah, these things keep happening

  to me because why? I am queer. I sell my body, so

  that implies I’m cheap. I couldn’t fight a group of

  men intent on hurting me or a psycho who thought

  it was all a bit of fun. I can only protect myself.

  Sorry if I don’t try to help other people because it’s

  fucking hard enough as it is to help me!”

  Chris sniffles.

  “Ryan and his men. That’s my fault. I’m so sorry,

  Chris.”

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  Chris was glad to accept help that day.

  “Hey, we’ve been through this. It’s their fault. No

  one else’s. Men like them think I’m fair game

  because of the way I look, my profession. I hate

  them.” Chris’s voice breaks with the heartache.

  “No, you don’t hate, not really. You always survive

  because you’re so strong and…together. You know

  that, right?”

  Nonetheless, Chris has pushed the experiences to

  the netherland of his consciousness so he can ignore

  them. “You think I’m together because I refuse to let

  the bastards win?”

  Instead of answering, Alex kisses him again.

  “Why don’t you cry? Hmm?”

  Chris huffs. “I’ve cried myself dry too many times,

  Alex. I have few tears left.”

  Alex plants more kisses on Chris. “I’m right here.

  If you find those tears, I’ll lend you my shoulders or

  chest.”

  Chris smiles. “There’s a lot of you for me to cry

  on.”

  “Exactly.” Alex pats the back of Chris’s head as

  though he’s comforting a child. So Chris cries,

  remembering things he doesn’t want to. Small

  details of the attack, the man’s tattoo. Snippets of

  insults he’d hurled at him. The cheesy-sock smell of

  his attacker’s bedsheet. After a long time, since

  there’s a lot to remember, he stops. Alex’s skin is

  soaked through because he has offered his body to

  catch Chris’s sorrows.

  Chris sits up and straddles Alex’s massive thighs.

  “Y’know, my middle name is Jay. Christoph Jay

  Neeser. Annette’s family moved to England from

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  Germany.”

  Annette’s lilt, hardly detectable, comes from her

  German origin.

  Alex touches Chris’s nipples. “Your name’s

  beautiful.”

  Chris reaches for his phone and taps something in

  search. He hands the phone to Alex. “Could you

  read this for me, honey?”

  “Blue jay breeds in both deciduous and coniferous

  forests… Sexes are similar in size and plumage.”

  Alex looks up to meet Chris’s gaze.

  Chris points to an image of the North American

&nb
sp; species. “The blue and white together are pretty.

  Don't you think?”

  That piques Alex’s curiosity. “And your point?”

  Chris gets like this. His mind operates a hundred

  miles per hour, travelling in several directions at

  once.

  “Annette taught me very little, but this she told

  me when I was about four and I still remember. My

  dad’s Canadian and from the Algonquin country

  park. He was a big fan of the Toronto Blue Jays, the

  famous baseball team. He gave me nothing but the

  sperm and my middle name. And now the jaybird

  has found Blue!”

  ~~~

  Alex smiles.

  It’s Chris’s lyrical mind, even though he knows

  nothing about literature or prose. Chris, like the

  blue jay, has become a beautiful creature, dazzling

  Alex every day and adding elegant stanzas to the

  poetry in their lives.

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  CHAPTER 16

  PRIDE

  “I’LL WRITE YOU a reference. I can say you’ve been my

  carer for… How long have we known each other,

  Chris?” Jeff squeezes her hand.

  Chris gazes at Jeff, thinking about their long

  friendship. “Six years? On and off. Fuck! You’ve

  seen me lose my baby fat… But what I’ve been doing

  with you is not exactly personal care—”

  “Rubbish!” Jeff barks, but not with menace.

  “You’re better than any of these community nurses I

  see. Sure, they cover the procedures and make sure

  I take my ART and stay healthy. I look forward to

  you coming every week. Don’t tell me I’m too old

  and senile to notice. You bring expensive massage

  oils, nice food, takeaways, trashy magazines and art

  books for me to read. You’re paying to come to work

  and I let you because I know you’ll argue otherwise.

  You care about me.”

  Chris can’t help but smile. “Busted. I don’t know.

  It’d sound silly if I told you I see you as a friend,

  sometimes even a parental figure cuz I don’t have

  one of those. I know I have this messed up sense of

  the world, but it’s nice to pretend I’m not only an

  escort once in a while.”

  “You are not only an escort. Not to me. That’s it.

  Life’s too short to mind whatever you call me or

  however you think of yourself. I’ll provide a

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  reference when you need it.” Jeff beams at Chris

  with warmth.

  Chris kisses Jeff’s cheek. “Thank you. I need

  better GCSE grades, too, so I’ll have to start with

  those. Damn. Twenty-seven years old and going