by A. E. Wasp
“Do you love him? Trust him?”
“No. I mean, yes, I trust him completely. But I’m not in love.”
Benny quirked an eyebrow. “Really? Whatever you say. I’m not blind; I’ve been watching this dance since the day I got here.”
“I don’t love him. Do I? Can I?” Even as he asked, Chris felt something that he’d been desperately ignoring unfurl in his chest; a thing with feathers perched in his soul spread its wings.
“Can you love him?” Benny asked. “Are asking me to tell you if it’s okay to love Jay-Cee?”
“Maybe? I mean, maybe it’s the whole like you said D/s thing. Maybe it just feels like love?” He’d always wondered how he would know he was in love. “Is it weird?” Was he wrong to want this? Jay-Cee had said it wasn’t, but Jay-Cee had good reasons for wanting Chris to think that.
“It’s not weird. It’s not wrong,” Benny said firmly. “He didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do, did he?”
“No. He made me do things I wanted to do but was too scared to do. Too scared to even admit I wanted.”
“So, he called you on your bullshit, and wouldn’t let you hide from yourself? Like you do for me when I say I can’t do some art thing because of some bullshit reasons but really I’m just scared.”
“Yeah.”
“Then if kinky is what you need and want and everyone’s getting off on it and you feel better after, where’s the problem? Are you afraid of what the preacher will say? Some imaginary old biddy in your head?”
Benny patted Chris on the shins. “You have my blessing. Both of you. I mean there’s that whole age and experience gap, but you knew that going in. You and Jay-cee are perfect together. You can be as kinky as you want, be tortured artists together, and fuel each other’s brilliance. But if you’re asking me if you love him, I can’t tell you that.”
Chris gave Benny a weak smile. “Okay then.” He took a deep breath. “I think I might love him. And I’m scared.”
Benny laughed. “No shit. Being in love is fucking terrifying. How do you think I feel? I fuck this up with Mikey; I hurt a four-year-old girl who owns my gay ass right now. So yeah, it’s fucking scary. But Mikey, he’s with me for the scary stuff. He lets me be scared and sad. He’s there for it. He makes us a safe space for me.”
“A sanctuary,” Chris said. Jay-Cee had given Chris the chance to be that for him. Chris was the one person in the world Jay-Cee had felt safe enough around to break down, and Chris had freaked out.
“Yeah. That’s a good word.”
Chris grabbed Benny’s arm. “So what should I do? Should I go be with him in New York?”
“I don’t know man; I can’t make that call for you. I do know you guys need to talk at some point. First, figure out if you even are going to be together. Then talk about specifically how you’re going to be. Because you are both too complicated and tortured not to have stuff spelled out. I don’t care if it’s the most embarrassing conversation you’ve ever had in your life. If Jay-Cee’s a good guy, he’ll make it not weird. Figure out what you want, because I don’t think you know.”
Chris threw off the blanket and stood up. “Right now I think I want to go to New York. Maybe it’s a terrible idea, but maybe he needs me? I don’t even know. But I’m going.” He picked up his backpack.
“Right now?” Benny asked.
“Yes.” Chris looked around. “Do you know where his parents live?”
Benny laughed. “Yeah. I have all his information. There’s some stuff I need to Fed-Ex there for his signature.” He took Chris by the arm. “Come on. Let’s go to the office; we’ll get you a flight and a car. No sense in going off half-cocked. He lives close to where you’re from. Did you know that?”
Chris shook his head. “No. I didn’t. I knew he was from New York.”
“Yeah, like one town over according to Google Maps.” Benny looked back at Chris. “You could see your mom while you’re there.”
Chris stopped dead. “Oh, God.”
Benny shrugged. “Or not. Your call.”
Chris followed Benny into the office, heart pounding, and head spinning. For better or worse, he was going to New York.
31 – Maybe it’s time to go home
Jay-Cee looked down at the familiar skyline of Manhattan as the plane started its descent into LaGuardia airport. Every time he landed at LGA, he couldn’t fully relax until the plane had come to a complete stop without sliding off the end of the runway into Flushing Bay.
Disembarking and collecting his rental car went as easy as that kind of thing could, and soon enough he was driving down Grand Central Parkway on his way to his parents’ house in Mamaroneck.
He had forgotten how pretty it could be in New York in late summer. It was so green, even at the end of August when Colorado was brown and gold from the long dry summer.
Sunlight flashed across the East River as he drove over the soaring arch of the Whitestone Bridge. It was easy to forget when you weren’t there that Long Island and Manhattan were actually islands and not very large ones at that.
Inching his way through the concrete snarl of the Bruckner Interchange put a damper on his reverie. But soon he was cruising up the Hutchinson River Parkway. With its view of the river and narrow stone overpasses, it could be a traffic nightmare but right now it was fairly empty, and he made good time. He’d be home in twenty minutes.
Chris had come from the next town over from him. It was weird to think that they had walked the same streets and driven down these same roads, twenty years apart. Chris hadn’t been born yet when Jay-Cee had left for West Point. He had been learning to tie his shoes while Jay-Cee had gone through some of the hardest years of his life.
Their being together made no sense at all. Good people would look at Jay-Cee and condemn him if they knew what they had done together. Cradle-robber was the kindest thing they would say.
And yet, Jay-Cee wanted him like he had never imagined wanting another person. Completely and totally and forever.
Exhaustion lay gritty behind his eyelids, and he was grateful his mother had told him not to bother coming directly to the hospital. His father was unconscious and on a breathing tube. He wouldn’t notice Jay-Cee’s presence or lack thereof.
It had been close to four years since he’d been back to New York. Seven years since he resigned from the Army. He used to at least try to get home for Christmas and Easter, but after missing one year, it became easier to not go. The time between visits had stretched until months went by without him even thinking of his family.
He threw the guilt for abandoning them in the corner of his mind with the rest of the ways he had let people down. He did love his mother, but his relationship with his father had always been fraught.
The General hadn’t been happy when Jay-Cee retired from the Army while he was ‘so young.’ He’d badgered Jay-Cee about his decisions until Jay-Cee had finally admitted that he’d been given no choice; his options had been either resign or get kicked out the rules of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.
Jay-Cee had been surprised by his father’s lack of surprise.
“I had hoped you would grow out of it,” his father had said quietly before withdrawing even more than usual.
That was the longest conversation Jay-Cee had ever had with either of his parents about his sexuality. It had never seemed relevant to any of their conversations. Jay-Cee still hadn’t let himself dwell on the impact of his father’s statements. Maybe he’d feel up to it after the old man dies.
The General had asked about Jason only once, a few weeks after their first conversation. “So Jason is homosexual, too?” He sounded disappointed. Jason and the General had always gotten along well.
“Yes sir,” Jay-Cee had answered, not volunteering any more information.
“And you two were...” He waved his hand in some sort of motion that Jay-Cee guessed was supposed to denote a sexual relationship between him and Jason.
“Yes, sir.” Come on, he thought to himself
. He had to have at least assumed.
“The whole time?” The General seemed perplexed as if he were revisiting every conversation he’d had with Jay-Cee and Jason, every holiday dinner and casual interaction, and running them through some internal translator to sift out the homosexual content he must have missed.
“Yes, sir. For almost ten years.” Chew on that.
“And he didn’t choose to resign?”
“No, sir. He did not. I believe he is PCSing to Korea.”
The General almost laughed at that, shocking Jay-Cee. “Coward. Couldn’t get any further away from you? Were there no posts available in Australia?”
Jay-Cee waited for his father to say something else. Maybe, improbably, he would say he was sorry for how Jay-Cee had been treated by the Army, by Jason.
“Well, you both knew the risks,” his father said finally. “Damn shame, though. You were a halfway decent officer.”
Jay-Cee couldn’t curb the sharp disappointment he felt. When would he stop hoping for some affection from a man obviously incapable of giving it? Maybe when one of them died.
Which hopefully would not be tonight.
The beginning of a headache pounded in his temples as he pulled up to the house. The pressure increased as he carried his suitcase and garment bag up the walkway. As he reached the imposing front door, it opened from the inside.
“It is about time you got your sorry ass here, James Christopher.” Cecilia, his mother’s older sister and his favorite relative by a mile, grabbed him by the arm and practically pulled him inside.
White hair tucked into a neat bun at the back of her head, she wore a pair of camel-colored dress pants and a light blue blouse. There were pearls in her ears and around her neck.
Jay-Cee dropped his bags and hugged her. “Aunt Sissy, thank God you’re here.” She was only a little shorter than Chris, Jay-Cee realized. Maybe five foot nine and still strong as an ox though she was pushing eighty.
She patted him on the back and pulled away. “Come on. There’s some coffee in the kitchen.”
“How’s the General?” Jay-Cee asked, following her down the wide hall.
“I don’t know. I’m sure Lizzy told you he had a reaction to the anesthesia.”
The kitchen was huge, antiseptically clean, shining and almost unused. Sissy dug deep into the back of the cupboard, bypassing the delicate porcelain coffee cups his mother used and pulling out the mugs she and Jay-Cee preferred.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. My sister is panicking. I’m sorry she made you fly all the way out here on such short notice.”
Jay-Cee leaned against the long granite-topped island in the middle of the kitchen, the two sleepless nights, and the emotional stress catching up with him suddenly. “It’s all right. I needed a change of scenery anyway.”
Sissy slid a mug of hot coffee over to him. “You look like shit,” she said.
He laughed and took a sip. It was full of cream and sugar the way he liked it but almost never indulged in. Funny, the small pleasures he had learned to deny himself. “I’m not feeling so good, to tell you the truth.”
She looked him over with her perceptive glance. “Man troubles?”
“You could say that.”
The front door opened, and they both turned their heads to the hall.
“Sissy?” his mother called. “Is that James’s car in the driveway?”
Sissy raised an eyebrow. “We’ll talk later. Don’t think you’re getting out of it, young man.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Jay-Cee stood as his mother came into the room.
“James!” She sounded pleased and exhausted at the same time.
“Hello, Mother.” Jay-Cee kissed her on both cheeks. Her shoulders felt fragile under his hands. She wore a pale pink suit and skirt combo, pantyhose and sensible shoes. Jay-Cee could barely remember seeing her in any other outfit.
He took her purse from her and placed it on the counter. “Sit, please.” He pulled out one of the chairs from the lower side of the island. “Would you like some coffee?”
She sat, patting her hair back into place. “No, thank you, dear. The doctor said I needed to drink less coffee.”
Sissy put a teapot with a copper handle on the stove and turned on the burner under it. “How is Jim?” she asked.
Lizzy sagged. She looked older, Jay-Cee thought. She is older. He felt a pang of guilt at how much time had passed since he’d visited.
“The same,” his mother said. “They say he should be coming out of it, but I just don’t know if I believe them.”
“Should I go see him?” Jay-Cee asked, hoping the answer would be no.
“No point going now. We can go back later this evening during visiting hours.” His mother eyed him up and down, nose wrinkling as she glanced at the tattoos. “You look a fright,” she said.
Jay-Cee resisted the urge to tug his T-shirt straight. “I left as soon as you called. I’ve been traveling all night.”
“In dungarees? James, you were raised better.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sissy laid a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Lizzy, I’ll make you a cup of tea, and then why don’t you go rest for a bit? Jay-Cee, you go take a shower and get some rest, too. I’ll arrange a late lunch for us, and then I can drive you over to the hospital. How does that sound?”
Lizzy smiled and patted Sissy’s hand. “That sounds lovely.” She looked at Jay-Cee. “Lunch no later than two?”
“Whatever you want, Mother.” He bent down to kiss her cheek again, and she surprised him by hugging him awkwardly around his chest.
“It’s so good to have you home again, James. I’ve missed you.”
Jay-Cee closed his eyes and leaned his head against her temple. “I’ve missed you, too, Mom. I promise I’ll be better at keeping in touch.” He hugged her back, noticing again how frail she had grown.
“You’ll keep in touch with me, too, mister,” Aunt Sissy said.
“Cross my heart.” He picked up his garment bag. “Now where am I staying?”
“I was thinking the blue guestroom. It’s got its own bath.”
“Sounds perfect.” He turned to both of them. “Ladies, I’ll see you back here at two o’clock on the dot.”
32 – Close your eyes and you’ll see gold in your pain
Standing with his back to the showerhead, Jay-Cee let the hot water run over his shoulders and down his back and chest. Closing his eyes, he braced one arm against the glass wall of the stall and rested his head against it.
Tired as he was, his cock stirred as it always did when he showered. Ever since the day with Chris in the shower, Jay-Cee had barely been able to walk into his own bathroom without getting hard. That had been hands down one of the hottest encounters of his life. The image of Chris hitting the floor on his knees and the sound he had made would stay with him forever.
Oh, damn it, he’d meant to call or at least text Chris. As soon as he got out of the shower, he would. What they had barely started to build between them may not be salvageable. It was too fragile and new to survive that intimate of a blow, but he hoped Chris would stay in his life in some manner. He had to stay at the studio.
Thinking of Chris made his body ache with wanting. Reaching down, he tugged his cock to full hardness. Maybe if he let himself give into it, he could exorcise the thoughts of Chris’s skin under his hands, Chris’s mouth around his cock, and the sounds he made while Jay-Cee pounded into him.
With a groan, he reached for the conditioner. He started slow, thinking about every time Chris had shared himself with Jay-Cee, but the images in his mind shifted. All he could see was Chris laughing as he knocked the basketball out of Jay-Cee’s hands, his white-blonde hair shining in the sun.
Chris dancing Benny around the studio to Madonna and kissing Benny to make Jay-Cee jealous. Jay-Cee laughed breathlessly even as he stroked harder.
He remembered Chris casually quoting Nietzsche in the middle of the Pride Festival.
In the studio, Chris’s fingers reverently smoothing the clay Jay-Cee had thrown onto the frame, making it smoother, better, more alive.
And in his own bed, hands tied to the headboard as he told Jay-Cee his deepest fantasy and begged to be fucked harder.
Fuck. Jay-Cee groaned, chest heaving. Chris was perfect. Too bright to look at. Too young. If Jay-Cee were a better man, he would walk away. But a better man wouldn’t have these memories.
Jay-Cee was madly in love with everything about Chris.
With a final memory of Chris’s face cradled in Jay-Cee’s hands, head tilted up and sweet red mouth reaching up to kiss Jay-Cee, he came so hard, only the hand he had wrapped around the top of the stall kept him upright.
He was so screwed.
Turning his face to the water to wash away the tears trickling from the corners of his eyes, he gave himself the rest of the day to mourn. Tomorrow he was going to have to start pulling it together again. This time, though, he would try to find a middle ground between cutting himself off from all emotion and drowning in them. There had to be a way to let himself feel things without being consumed by them. Normal people did it all the time, as far as he could tell.
After the shower, he lay down on the bed just for a second, giving himself a few minutes to think about nothing.
He woke up to the gentle knocking of his Aunt Sissy on the bedroom door.
“Jay-Cee, honey? It’s two o’clock. You almost ready?”
Stifling a groan, Jay-Cee pulled himself up and sat on the end of the bed. “Yeah. Sure. Five more minutes, okay?”
“Okay. See you in the kitchen in five minutes.”
Jay-Cee ran his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to make it lay right, and then stood up and started digging through his suitcase for clothes that would pass his mother’s inspection.
Chris hadn’t been able to find a flight until the next morning, so he’d spent the night reading the books Jay-Cee had given him, moping, and vacillating between calling Jay-Cee or not. He’d finally decided on not. If he didn’t ask if he could come, Jay-Cee couldn’t tell him not to, right?
