by A. E. Wasp
“Are you scared?” Chris found it hard to believe.
“Less now than I used to be. Not to sound like a cliché, but it does get easier with time. If you let yourself learn from your mistakes. I know I only met Jay-Cee once, but I think that man cares about you. You won’t let him take care of you, so he sent me to do it. And he doesn’t know me from Adam. For all he knows, I could be telling you to run from him. Calling him a cradle robber and a creep for taking advantage of you.”
He looked up at her. “Do you think that?”
She gave it some serious thought. “Does he tell you who you can be friends with? Check your phone obsessively, tell you where you can go?”
Chris shook his head, eyes narrowed. “What? No. Not even anything like that.”
She opened up the cooler again and pulled out a bunch of grapes. “Just talk to him.”
“I will. As soon as I have cell phone service again.” Chris saw a bottle of wine nestled in the ice. “You can drink that if you want. It won’t bother me.”
She wrinkled her nose and frowned at the bottle. “Nah. I was planning on staying up here over night. I’m not drinking and driving back down that road in the middle of the night, and I sure as hell ain’t letting you drive my truck. Besides, the best thing about red wine is how it tastes in somebody else’s mouth.”
“Can we stay here tonight? The whole night?” The idea of sleeping outside while meteors blazed across the night seemed like a cure for something.
“Yeah, sure, if you want. You know there’s no bathroom, right? I mean, we can use separate trees, but I’m not gonna hold it in all night and get a bladder infection just to spare your delicate sensibilities.”
Chris laughed loudly and grabbed her for a one-armed hug. “You pee away. Can you adopt me as an unofficial little brother?”
“No problem. As long as you don’t team up with Dmitri against me.”
“Never. Team Angel the whole way.” He stuck out his hand. “Deal?”
“Deal,” she said, shaking his hand firmly.
Chris snuggled down into the blankets, exhausted in every way possible. His eyes closed despite every effort to keep them open.
He felt Angel’s hand in his hair again. “Go to sleep. It’s okay. They won’t peak until after midnight. I’ll wake you up. Promise.”
Chris slipped into a dreamless sleep with the sound of Angel singing low in his ears.
She woke him some time later when the moon had set, and the Milky Way was a river of stars above them. Their breath clouded in the cold air.
Meteors flashed across the endless dark of space, specks of light streaking off into nothing. Chris’s mind quieted as they watched in silence, counting falling stars. With every one that fell, his heart made the same wish.
28 – All our sins come back to haunt us
Jay-Cee felt bruised inside and out and weary to his soul. He lay on his bed on top of the blankets in his darkened apartment. He’d shed his clothes, and now his skin felt tight. A hot shower would feel good, but he wasn’t ready to wash off the scent of Chris’s cologne and sweat.
What a fucking day. He pressed his thumbs hard to the bridge of his nose, trying to push a headache away and cursed himself for an old fool. When was the last time he had felt even a tenth of the emotion whirling around inside him now?
It had taken all his self-discipline to leave Chris, but it had been the right thing to do. He’d crossed a boundary he hadn’t known was there. Jay-Cee rolled over in bed. “You’re a fool,” he said out loud to an empty room. How had Chris come to mean so much to him?
There hadn’t been anyone else after Jason. Eight years of one night stands, club scenes, and the occasional date that went nowhere once the guy realized Jay-Cee wasn’t going to talk about ninety percent of his life.
But then along came Chris. He hadn’t snuck up on Jay-Cee, he hadn’t wormed his way in. No, Chris had swung in like a wrecking ball and knocked down all the walls Jay-Cee had built in his heart and mind to keep things manageable.
There was nothing easy about Chris. Everything was a challenge with him, and Jay-Cee loved it. He didn’t hold back from critiquing Jay-Cee’s artwork. He questioned business decisions and offered intelligent, thoughtful suggestions.
From the little he had seen of his interactions with Benny, Chris managed to be a kind and loyal friend without allowing being a pushover. He didn’t automatically defer to Jay-Cee despite the difference in age and experience. Politeness he offered everyone, respect had to be earned.
And, God, Jay-Cee loved how Chris made Jay-Cee work for his submission. It made the times when he did submit, when he softened and let Jay-Cee take care of him, even sweeter.
Jay-Cee sat up and got out of bed. There was no point in trying to sleep. If it happened at all tonight, it was going to be a long time coming. Without turning on the light, he walked naked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey. If he was going to wallow, he was going to do it properly.
He swirled the amber liquid in the glass, and the clink of ice and the familiar scent of the whiskey reminded him of other days, other men and women. As always, he drank his first toast of the night to absent friends and fallen soldiers.
The light from the streetlamps shining through the slatted blinds was strong enough for him to see by, and he paced slowly around his room, examining his artwork and few possession with new eyes. The abstract painting that Chris had admired drew him, and he stood in front of it, drinking his whiskey and remembering.
This was one of the very few pieces he had made while he was in the Army. Maybe it was living in Europe that had inspired him to pick up a paintbrush again. Based in Brussels, he’d spent as much time as he could exploring the museums and galleries of Belgium, Italy, France, any place he could get to. Sometimes Jason came. More often than not, Jay-Cee went alone.
As he looked at the painting, he saw the anger and the sadness behind it that Chris had picked up on immediately. Now, with the distance time could give, Jay-Cee remembered vividly the hurt and anger he had been denying feeling when he painted it; anger he’d convinced himself he had under control, fear he had rationalized away.
He’d been losing Jason even then, years before he got outed. And neither one had fought for what little they had. They’d been living in the same city, true, but not the same house. That would have raised too many eyebrows. So when they fought, they’d withdrawn into their own homes, knowing it was only a matter of time before one or both of them were reassigned, and they would be separated again.
Thinking about it now, comparing the ten years he’d had with the Jason to the very short time he’d known Chris, he wondered how he’d ever thought he’d been in love.
Jason had been safe; a soft blanket of snow smothering the dangerous fire of Jay-Cee’s true self.
Chris was kerosene, and Jay-Cee was afraid. Afraid of himself and the depth his desire.
By not admitting what they had been doing from that first night, by not treating Chris as an equal, as an adult, and laying all the cards on the table right up front, Jay-Cee lost something that might have been the thing to make him whole.
He’d fucked up, and he’d fucked up big time.
Worse than losing Chris though was the pain of knowing he’d hurt Chris when he’d been at his most vulnerable.
He was going to have to deal with that. As much as he didn’t want to, he and Chris were going to have to talk this over. He may have gone into this relationship like a coward, but he would end it like a man, giving Chris the closure he deserved.
He finished his drink and poured another one. Emotions roiled inside him, old ones he’d thought long-buried, and fresh ones from Chris. The night called to him, and he walked over to the windows. Staring out into the parking lot, he leaned his forehead against the window and stared at his reflection in the darkened glass. He couldn’t hide from the truth he saw there.
In trying to wall off his pain, he’d walled off his passion as well. His art was stagna
nt because he didn’t let himself feel anything. Technically, it was fine, but his work lacked real emotion. Since all his walls were down now, pain and regrets echoing in his heart like the sound of a train whistle in the distance, he might as well try to use it.
He picked up a sketchbook and some pencils, refreshed his drink, and settled himself on the couch. Pulling up the playlist on his computer that he had been listening to the night Chris came over, he opened his sketchbook and opened his mind to all the things he’d kept locked down for so long.
All of it.
The pain of growing up in a culture that prized stoicism and control.
Pain from being shown over and over that who he loved and how he loved them was shameful and wrong. He’d thought he had come to terms with it, but if this situation with Chris had taught him anything it was that he still felt that what he needed was wrong. If he didn’t, he would have spoken openly and honestly to Chris from the very first night. Before they’d even kissed.
Thinking of Chris’s kisses, he gently ran his fingertips over his lips. A ghost of a touch.
He’d spent his whole life denying parts of himself, not only his sexuality, though that had been a huge part of him. Until he had been forced out of the Army, he’d had to hide that part of himself. Even when though he had known plenty of gay men and women in the military, far from being out and proud, they’d be shamed into the closet. But since he had shoved himself into that closet when he’d been fourteen, it had felt, if not comfortable, then at least familiar.
He had started denying his feelings to himself around the same age Chris had started numbing himself to his pain. For the first time in forever, Jay-Cee let himself feel the anger that simmered in his veins for all the boys lost in a world that turned their strengths to weaknesses and their boundless capacity to love into hatred of themselves.
As his hand moved unguided across the paper, images emerged from deep within his subconscious. Faces of men he had served with, men he had led and followed. Fellow Rangers with whom he had done some of the most rewarding, terrifying, and haunting work of his life.
He sketched the crumbled edges of a bombed out cement house and remembered a raid gone completely wrong. Remembered the taste of blood and dust in his mouth, sweat burning his eyes, and his heart pounding in time with the mortar shells exploding much too close to where they hunkered, pinned down by enemy fire in a place the U.S. Army technically had no right to be.
It had all seemed if not black and white at least inevitable back then. These things had to be done, and they were ones trained to do it. Fifteen years into an apparently unending war that clarity had blurred. In the wee, small hours of the night, Jay-Cee had found himself wondering if all the sacrifices had been worth it.
How could you judge something like that?
With a press of his eraser, a thick stroke of a soft charcoal became the irrepressible gleam in Benny’s eyes. Despite the damage to his body and the memories that no doubt haunted him as well, Benny’s soul had emerged unscathed. He’d taken a leap of faith and opened his heart not only to the man he’d loved since high school but to his young daughter.
The thought of being responsible for a thing like a child’s heart terrified Jay-Cee more than any mission. Childhood was so fragile, so easily destroyed. He would never trust himself with something so precious.
But Chris was precious to him.
Jay-Cee’s hand arced across the page, a graceful curve that became Chris’s slender back and legs. A youthful body bent over and looking down like Narcissus seeing his reflection in the pond for the first time and falling in love with himself not knowing it would lead to his death.
Quickly, Jay-Cee filled in the rest of Chris, the shape of his head, the strength of his arms as they supported his torso. On the page, Chris looked down at the crumbled walls and the men huddled there.
Jay-Cee’s hand stilled as he stared at the drawings. A door opened in his brain and all the part of his life that he had kept separate poured out together in a tidal wave of images and emotions. Quickly gathering up his sketchbook and pencils, Jay-Cee pulled on a pair of sweatpants then headed downstairs to the studio.
Hours later, he was still sitting at the workbench in the studio, a single lamp throwing a cone of light onto the tabletop. The half-finished Viking statue rested near his right elbow, bestowing a blessing on the new version of the piece coming to life in Jay-Cee’s sketchbook. In the drawing, Jay-Cee had traded out the horned Viking helmet for a camouflage-covered combat helmet and the spear for an M4 carbine. A cloth army jacket hung from the statue’s shoulders, and his feet were bare.
Eyes burning, Jay-Cee leaned up from the table. He stretched his arms up over his head, pulling gently at one then the other. He curved his spine until the vertebrae cracked one by one, then slumped back down with a sigh.
The black of night had gradually given way to the soft gray of pre-dawn as he’d worked. Ready for a break, Jay-Cee slid off the stool and walked barefoot to the side door.
Outside the air was chilly against his bare torso, and the gravel of the parking lot cold and sharp under his feet. Picking his way carefully, he walked the few feet down to the river and looked west. Red-gold alpenglow touched the face of the mountains, diffused light from a sun not yet risen. Stars twinkled in the blue velvet sky above the hills, and as he stared at them, the streak of a falling star caught his eye. He smiled and made his first wish in years. Another meteor flashed across the sky, and a minute or two later another fell.
Jay-Cee stood in the chilly pre-dawn air watching the stars fall around him until the sun rose and washed the stars from the sky.
Chilled to the bone, exhausted and emptied by emotion and inspiration, Jay-Cee walked slowly back to the studio and climbed stiffly up the stairs to his apartment.
Collapsing into his bed, he barely had the strength to text Chris to tell him to take the day off before the day caught up with him and he sunk down into a deep, dreamless sleep.
29 – There’s no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin
When Chris had come down the mountain the next morning and gotten the text from Jay-Cee about taking the day off, a weight had dropped off his shoulders. Yeah, he needed to talk to Jay-Cee and figure out exactly what the hell was going on, but a day’s reprieve from the difficult conversation sounded good to Chris. Yesterday had been a hell of a fucking day.
Everything from that call from the hospital about Benny to the earthshaking sex with Jay-Cee, to his unexpected bonding with Angel, had shaken him to the core. Nothing was what he had thought it was. His whole picture of who he was and his place in the world had shifted.
After he had treated Angel to breakfast, she dropped him off at the hospital so he could pick up his car. He texted Jay-Cee once to let him know he was okay and to thank him for sending Angel and Chinese food. He tried to ignore the fact that there was no return text.
He didn’t do anything productive with his day off. Mostly he lay on his stomach on the couch watching TV, eating leftovers, and jerking off. Every time his ass made contact with anything, he remembered the feel of Jay-Cee’s hands on him, his cock inside him, and the way he looked at Chris. And as soon as the replay started in his brain, his cock perked up and wouldn’t leave him alone until he had taken care of it. Oh well, It wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
Walking into the studio the next day was one of the hardest things he’d had to do. He didn’t really think Jay-Cee would fire him, but things were going to be awkward between them no matter what. Would they try to pretend nothing had changed? Would they end up working silently together, using Benny as a buffer between them and trying never to be left alone?
Speaking of Benny, he should probably talk with him, too. Ugh. He hoped Benny wouldn’t judge him too harshly for what an idiot he’d been. Benny was a true friend; he’d call Chris on his shit in a heartbeat.
He pushed open the door to the studio. Benny’s music played over the speakers. Today’s selection was some
grunge rock from the 90s. Benny sat in front of his computer, head bobbing to the beat.
“Hey,” Chris greeted him. “I didn’t think you’d be here today.”
Benny swiveled around on the stool to face Chris. “I’m fine, really. It’s not like my brain is any worse today than it was a few days ago. The only reason I stayed in the hospital overnight was to avoid my mother.”
The Viking sculpture caught Chris’s eye as he walked past. There was something different about it. Maybe something in the face. Jay-Cee must have worked on it. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet your parents.”
“Oh, don’t worry, you will,” Benny assured him. “Now that she has a granddaughter, she’ll be up here every second she can.”
“That’s right, your parents have known Mikey for years. You said he was like a son to them when you guys were in high school.” Chris hefted his backpack up onto the workbench.
A grin spread slowly across Benny’s face. “Well, now he’s going to be their son-in-law, officially.”
“What?” Chris’s jaw dropped.
“I asked Mikey to marry me, and he said yes. Well, technically he asked first. But I didn’t say yes, then I changed my mind and asked him.” Benny couldn’t stop smiling, a look of wonder in his eyes.
Chris wrapped his arms around Benny in a huge hug. Benny hugged him back just as hard. They were both red-eyed when they pulled apart. “Dude! I am so happy for you! That’s amazing.”
Benny frowned a little. “Amazing for me. I snagged a smoking hot future lawyer. Not sure it’s such a good deal for Mikey.” He tapped his head. “He got damaged goods. Mi cabeza isn’t fully-functional anymore.”
“I doubt it ever was,” Chris joked. “If Mikey is as smart as you say he is, I think he knows what he’s getting into.” Chris rolled a stool next to Benny and sat down. “So, do they have any idea triggered the seizures the other day?”
Benny gave a half-hearted shrug and swiveled back to his computer, suddenly engrossed in an order form for chicken wire.
