“All these people drinking lover's spit.

They sit around and clean their face with it.

And they listen to teeth to learn how to quit.

Tied to a night they never met.

You know it’s time that we grow old and do some shit..”

Chapter 11

I couldn’t tell you who kissed whom first. And it really didn’t matter. As soon as I saw him, as soon as the door was pushed open and our eyes met nothing mattered. Somehow through my lack of air I got the words out.

“My father…my dad.”

And before I knew it our lips and tongues were tangled in a feverish dance. I was practically climbing him like a tree and his hand on the back of my neck just gave him more leverage to push my mouth closer to his. He pushed me up against the loft door and our hardening cocks rubbed against each other through binding denim. I wanted him. I wanted him to rip my clothes off and take me on the floor right there. This is what I came for. I needed to feel something. Something that what I felt right now.

He wasn’t kissing me out of love. He was kissing me out of need. The same reason I was kissing him. Need and want. Right now love had nothing to do with it. When he finally pulls back, I couldn’t breath any better than I had when I showed up at the door. We both pant and catch our breath, our hands never leaving each other’s bodies. My arms were still wrapped around his neck, my fingers lost in his hair. His hand was placed perfectly on the small of my back, pinned against the wall. He leans his forehead against mine and finds a small breath to speak.

“What happened?”

I swallow, taking mine and his saliva down my throat.

“My dad. He had a heart attack. He may not make it. I went to go see my mom…” Tears well in my eyes and he brings me against his body with one soft pull. I breathe in his scent. A mix of cologne, (not the same kind he wore when we were together. No, this kind was new), cigarettes and gum. It smelled like heaven.

“Ok. Ok. Calm down.” His voice is deep and demanding but nothing in the world could make me feel any better than the sound escaping his throat right now. He leans his check against mine and softly whispers in my ear, “Come on, I’ll take you to see him.”

I pull back and shake my head like I was trying to rattle my eyes out of my head.

“No. No. I don’t want to see him. I don’t care if he’s sick.”

Brian snorts. “Right. Clearly you don’t care.”

“I don’t!” I start to yell and brush past him and walk more into the loft. “I don’t care. Why should I? He obviously hasn’t cared about me the past, I don’t know 15 years. So why should I?” Tears are still stinging in my eyes. I looked up at the ceiling to keep them from flowing down my cheeks. Shit. This wasn’t working at all.

Brian starts toward me and plants himself right in front of me. He takes my face in his hands and presses his lips against the side of my face. I could die right now and have no regrets.

“You have to go Justin. Even if it’s just to finally give him one last fuck you. Show him how far you have come and it didn’t matter if he was supportive or around to see it or not. You made it. You survived. Without him.” His words finally let the floodgates overflow. I wrap my arms around him and sob into his chest.

“Why Brian? Why isn’t he proud of me?” Brian’s hands go immediately to my hair, like they had years and years ago to comfort me. He knew with his fingers in my hair, there was nothing else in the world that mattered. It soothed me and comforted me. And I also knew, whether he wanted me to or not he loved doing it as much as I loved having it done.

“You’re hair is long.” His voice is almost unheard through my sniffles and sobs. I look up at him and his lips are turned upward. It’s not a smile. But it’s more than a smirk. It was….just Brian. I lick my lips and reach up to meet him. He closes his eyes before my lips even reach him. I hear him suck in his breath. His lips are hot and tender, still swollen from the furious kissing we had done minutes ago. I just wanted to feel him again. He returned the sentiment. He finally let his body relax and we are now sharing the most intimate kiss I think we had ever had.

The kiss lingering and with our lips barely touching he says against me, “Come on Sunshine. I’ll take you.” I nod into him and he breaks away from me and my heartbreaks. I know he is only going a few feet but now that I was this close to him again, a few feet felt like an eternity.

He grabs his jacket off the coat rack and slides the loft door open. There behind the door was Gus.

“Where are you going?” He asks stepping into the loft. His eyes fall on me, and he stops.

Brian looks between me, and his son and for once in his life I think he may be speechless.

“A-are you ok?” Gus asks me. To say I was shocked was an understatement.

I nod at Gus and wipe the remaining tears from my face.

“His dad is sick. I’m gonna take him to go see him.” Brian says gently to his son and ruffles his shaggy hair. I wonder when he did that if it ever reminded him of me.

Gus nods, never taking his eyes off me. Was that sympathy in his eyes? He shook his head, almost to rid himself out of his feelings. Just like Brian. Never let them see you care.

“You gonna be ok here?” Brian asks stepping out into the hall.

“I’m 15. Not handicapped.” Gus lashes back.

“Same difference.” Brian smirks. He waves his hand at me. “Lets go.”

I walk slowly to him and my eyes meet Gus’s. A small smile spreads across his lips. There it was. My approval.

I nod and smile at him. I let it be a real smile, because I felt it. I felt happy for just a moment.

“Now I know why they call you Sunshine.” Gus mumbles.

Brian whirls around and stares at his son, as my eyes get as wide as dinner plates.

Without another word Gus drops his book bag onto the floor and heads toward the fridge. I look at Brian as he takes my hand and leads me out of the loft. I was going to be ok. I had Brian after all.

Brian held my hand the entire time he drove to the hospital. He had his arm around me as we rode the elevator up to the 4^th floor cardiac wing. And he held my hand as I asked the nurse which room Craig Taylor was in. He never left my side. I see my mother standing outside my father’s room and she looks relieved when she see’s me. I hug her when I reach her and she sighs into me. I hug Molly next, the hug I should have given her earlier in the day when I saw her. It felt good to be home. When I release Molly from my hug I see my mother and Brian sharing their own moment. They had their arms around each other in the warmest embrace I had ever witnessed. Brian had his face nuzzled in her shoulder. These were the same hugs he used to give Deb. And I know now, he felt the same way about my mother as he did Michael’s.

“Thank you for bringing him. I knew he wouldn’t come alone.” She whispers to him.

He nods and pulls away from her. He immediately goes for my hand again and I let him intertwine his fingers in mine. God, it felt SO good to be home.

“How is he?” I ask staring at my father through the large observation window.

“He finally woke up and they removed his breathing tube. They want to run more tests before they decide about the surgery.” My mother tells me. I take a deep breath and let go of Brian’s hand and walk toward the hospital room door. I glance back at Brian and he smiles at me. He knew I had to do this.

As I approach my father’s bed, the constant beeping from his monitors echoed my own heartbeat. A wave of courage washes over me and I knew it was now or never.

“Dad?” I ask as I reach his bedside.

He rolls his head to the side and slowly opens his eyes.

“What do you want?” He grumbles. Fucking asshole.

“I came to tell you a few things.” I say calmly.

“And what’s that? That you’re not a fag anymore? That you have come to your senses? That you stopped with all that painting nonsense and got a real job?” His voice is hoarse and he can barely get the words out. God, even on his deathbed he could still find the words to insult me.

“No Dad I came to tell you that I’m still a fag. And I’m proud of who I am. I came to tell you that I still paint and I’m damn good at it. I even opened my own gallery in New York. I’ve made something of myself and I did it with out you. I did it without your money, or your support. And I thought maybe I would be the better person and come here and offer my love and support to you when you needed it most.” My voice is quivering because quite frankly it killed me to see my father this way. As much as I hated him, I loved him just as much. He was my father. Nothing would change that.

“Well good for you Justin. You had your fucking pedophile boyfriend pay your way through school and now you sell your ridiculous paintings to people who wouldn’t know art if it spit on them. And as for me, I don’t need your support. I’ll be fine.” He rolls his head to the other side and I see his fingers clench into fists.

I lean down and kiss his forehead gently. “I tried Dad. So did Mom. But we just weren’t good enough. We didn’t meet your approval. I guess Molly is the only one you are proud of. Maybe she will be the only one here by your bedside when you take your last breath. Cause you have made that choice, not me.” 

I knew those would be the last words I ever spoke to my father.

~~

When I leave my fathers room, my mother quickly brings me into her arms. I feel Brian’s hand on my back and I felt safe and warm. I pull away from my mothers grasp and see a familiar face walking up the hallway toward us.

“Calvin?” I whisper.

My mother follows my own gaze and she smiles. “Yea honey. He called me this afternoon after you left. He’s been so worried about you. I told him what happened and I told him if he wanted to see you he should come here.”

“Mom! How could you do that??” I say through clenched teeth.

“Well Justin, he’s your boyfriend.” My mother brushes my hair out of my eyes. Oh fuck. What had he told her?

“No. No he’s not Mom.” I walk to Calvin and my blood boiling

“Justin! Thank god. I’ve been trying to find you.” He tries to hug me and I push him away.

“What are you doing here? You need to go back to New York. Now.” My voice is stern. He needed to understand I meant what I was telling him.

“No Justin. Not without you. This is ridiculous. I’ll stay with you until your Dad gets better than we can go home.” He has hope in his eyes and he has never reminded me so much of myself until this moment.

“No Calvin. Listen to me ok. It’s over. I don’t love you. I care about you. A lot but I don’t love you. You deserve someone who is gonna love you. And it’s not me. I belong here. I belong in Pittsburgh.”

I see lighting flash in his eyes. “You want to be in Pittsburgh cause of HIM!” He screams and points to Brian a few feet from us. Brian raises an eyebrow and looks at us. He points to himself and makes the ‘who me?’ face. I have to smile at that. Same old Brian.

“It doesn’t matter why Calvin. I’m moving back. And you’re staying in New York. I’m sorry.” I bring my hand to his face and he smacks it away. Ow. Bastard.

“It’s been 10 fucking years!! You can’t tell me you still LOVE him?” His eyes are pained and I feel so badly for him, I almost agree to go back to New York just so he doesn’t have to feel any more pain. No one should feel like this because of me. I’m not worth all this.

I look over at Brian who is leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets a calm look on his face. I do still love him. Probably now more 10 years later. Without taking my eyes off Brian I tell Calvin, “It was only time.”

Brian winces at my comment and looks down at the ground.

When I finally turn back to face Calvin he was already half way up the corridor, walking away.

“Calvin!” I yell after him. “I’m sorry.” It’s all I can think to say to him. I bring my hands to my face and groan. Jesus Christ. ‘Is there anything else that could possibly happen tonight?’ I think to myself.

I head back toward where my mother and molly are standing outside my father’s room. But Brian was missing.

“Where….” I begin to ask my mother. Her face is a mixture of panic and hope.

“Mom?” I ask.

“He went in to see your father.”

***

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