Suffocate

by Xavier Neal

  “I can’t believe I slept with you to begin with!” I yell back planting both my hands on the back of my light gray chase lounge, closest to the floor to ceiling windows of my high rise apartment.

  “I can’t believe you two need a goddamn mediator to pick out a fucking hospital!” C.J. says from the gray couch between us, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

  Why are you staring at that chair like that? It was an impulse buy. It matched the theme.

  “He’s being difficult!” Sara snaps, the bobbing of her head bouncing around the curls in her hair.

  Swear to God those things are snakes. Avoid eye contact. I don’t want you to turn into stone.

  “You’re being difficult!” I toss my hands in the air. “You’re arguing with me for the sake of fucking arguing!”

  “That’s the only kind of fucking I wish we ever did!”

  God I hate this woman! She has the soft features you imagine an elementary school teacher would have, but the soul of a dark overlord.

  “You’re both being difficult,” C.J. speaks up letting his head fall backwards. After a deep breath he sits up straight, adjusts his jeans, and leans forward. “Sara, do you have a specific reason that you don’t want that hospital?”

  “Because I want it,” I mumble and C.J. cuts me a dirty look to close my mouth.

  “I just,” she starts pursing her lips together clearly digging for an excuse. “I don’t know that is what’s best for me and the baby.” Her hands fall to her stomach where my unborn son is growing rapidly.

  Yeah. Of all the shit I could get myself tangled up in, it’s this. And no, I don’t feel like getting into how I got myself into this nightmare.

  “It’s a great hospital,” C.J. argues for me in a calm, stern voice. “Luke, one of my best friends, my girlfriend’s brother, is actually a nurse there—”

  “Stuart sleep with him?”

  “Because I have to fuck every guy that enters my life?”

  Sh. Not. A. Word.

  “Well.” She gives me a look of disgust. ”That’s how queers like you operate isn’t it?”

  See why I’m willing to go to such extremes to protect my unborn child from growing up in a house cloaked in hatred. And this is just the tip of the iceberg.

  “Luke having firsthand knowledge of the doctors there is a benefit. He also has great information about the nurses. Not to mention it is one of the best hospitals in town, as well as the state, not only for labor and delivery, but in general.” His explanation causes Sara to fold her arms tightly across her chest.

  “Fine,” she caves. “It’s not like it’s going to matter. You can’t keep up your end of the deal anyway.”

  I toy with my tongue ring, refusing to respond to her childish comment.

  Look, I know that because of my ad-hockery in the past I don’t have a concrete future like so many of my friends, but I am working on it. I am trying to do better.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Devil worship starting early today?”

  C.J. clears his throat at me and shakes his head.

  “You’re the one with a one way ticket to hell because you prefer cock to vag.”

  “We’re really gonna go another round?” C.J. sighs.

  “No.” She smirks at him. “I have more important things to do.” Her face snaps back my direction, “My next appointment is in two days. 9 a.m. Try to be on time.”

  We watch her stomp off in her stiletto heels and shut the door loudly behind her.

  “I swear my child will be born with poison in its veins instead of blood.” I shake my head slowly.

  “No one told you to bury your dick in something to get over having your heart broken.” C.J. tosses his phone on the wooden coffee table.

  “I wasn’t heartbroken.” I turn to look out the windows at the beautiful blue sky.

  “Can’t lie to me bro. You were.”

  Refusing to let the memory rush back in my brain I shake my head. “I stopped being heartbroken over him long before we made it official.”

  “Deny it all you want. You were heartbroken.”

  I continue to stare out the window at the only city that’s ever felt like home. “I was drunk.”

  “Another prime example of why alcohol doesn’t solve your problems, but creates new ones.”

  Shutting my eyes I groan, “Please not another lecture.”

  “No lectures,” C.J. surrenders. After a long stretch of silence he says, “You know there’s no getting out of this if you break your end of the contract?” I roll my tongue, clinking the metal against my teeth. “If you’re caught in any compromising position that proves you are in a same sex relationship, before she pops, this is all over. You forfeit custody. You are only allowed supervised visits at her discretion.”

  “I read the paperwork.” I open my eyes back up in frustration.

  “Why the fuck did you sign it?” He snaps slight disbelief still in his voice.

  “Because it was that or let her get on a plane and completely ruin the small chance she gave me.” My bare feet spin me around on my marble floor. “And before you try to argue with me that I doubt your lawyer skills you know damn well I don’t. You got me joint custody rights even if I have to move back to Maryland as part of the agreement. You saved me from being dragged through a courtroom. I know you’re good at what you do. But she had me cornered. She threatened to out me to my father. To drag my family name through the mud in every newspaper and news station that would listen. And you know what that’s like.”

  His jaw wiggles back and forth.

  He had something similar happen to him with his ex-fiance. I can’t go into details about it, but you can ask him when you get time.

  “Bro she swore that she would make sure I never saw the light in my child’s eyes. I may not have planned on ever being a father, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want him. They could’ve been idle threats, but they’re ones I couldn’t risk C.J. So yeah, I signed my soul to Satan.”

  “Then don’t let her win.” He slinks down on my couch.

  “I don’t plan on it. It’s only a couple more months.”

  “Keep your dick in your pants.”

  “I have.”

  His head sarcastically tilts at me.

  Did you tell him?

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Then last night when you went up to the rooftop?”

  “I got some fresh air.”

  “And some fresh dick,” C.J. bluntly remarks. Before I counter he shakes his head. “Save your breath. We’ve been friends most our lives. I know your post sex face as well as you know mine.”

  With a short shrug I assure, “It won’t happen again.”

  “Good,” C.J. says before my cell phone starts vibrating across the table. “Besides the fact that’s my girlfriend’s brother, remember it’s not worth losing your son.”

  True. Nothing is. But damn, Luke sure could make a guy think selfishly more than once.

  Reaching for my phone, I answer the video call from my mother. “Hello.”

  “There’s the stranger who I call my son,” my mother hums at me leaning back in what looks like her make up chair. I faintly smile. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” My tongue wets my lips, the metal immediately clinking around.

  “Still have that metal in your mouth.”

  “Yes.” I take a deep breath preparing for the list of criticisms that’s going to continue.

  Here’s why I hate being an only child. No one to take the pressure off of me.

  “And still refuse to get a haircut.” She points to my slightly shaggy blonde hair.

  “Yep.”

  “How is work? Did you finally take that job with the movie studio?”

  On a sigh I glance over at C.
J. who is chuckling under his breath.

  Up until a couple months ago he was in the same damn boat with his parents. We’re both from a small town in Maryland where money talks and old money talks louder. A magical little place where it’s your job to be exactly what your parents want you to be. In my case that would be a straight lace cog in my father’s political train of bullshit with a wife like Sara who believes her only job is to make sure her legs are open so you buy her jewelry. Sounds fun doesn’t it?

  “No. I enjoy being freelance.” I head over and flop down next to C.J.

  “But the security—”

  “Hi Mrs. Ducane!” C.J. interrupts.

  “Christian!” she coos at him.

  The son she wanted.

  “Well how are you handsome? Your mother says you have a new girlfriend and she’s just delightful.”

  Not the word I’d use for Erin. Lippy. Sassy. Bitchy. Any of those are a better fit.

  “That she is,” C.J. agrees slowly.

  “And how are things with Sara? How’s my grandson coming along? Have you decided to marry Sara yet?”

  “Not unless hell is open for snowboarding and ice skating,” I mutter when C.J. speaks up.

  “Hate to do this to you Mrs. D, but we were just walking out the door.”

  “Sorry mother,” I lie with a smile. “I’ll call you later.”

  I won’t. I never call back.

  “If you must...” she sighs. “Oh, one more thing before you go.”

  Hitting the metal on the roof of my mouth I raise my eyebrows to listen.

  “Your father and I will be in town in a few weeks for a banquet. We’re expecting for you to take time out of your busy schedule to see us.”

  Like it’s a fucking option?

  “Got it mother. Talk to you later.” And with that said I hit the end button and look at C.J. “Where’s the good news in my life?”

  “You’ve got me?” C.J. chuckles.

  Rolling my eyes, I rest my head against the back of my couch.

  You’re right. The good news in my life is across town. And is somehow the worst news possible. Knowing I’ll never get another chance like I had last night is the sweetest fucking disappointment I’ve ever had.

  Chapter 7

  Luke

  The sound of the front door closing only briefly has me looking up from the sweater I’m knitting in the leather recliner in the living room. Maxx and Erin are giggling, the sound which is usually calming, to hear the two women I’ve taken care of a hunk of my life happy, is actually forcing me to tense.

  All that and the only thing you can focus on is the fact I’m wearing glasses? You are as bad as my sister.

  Maxx sits down on the couch still laughing about something, eyes landing on me and the activity going on with my hands.

  “Uh...pardon me Mother Hubbard, but where’s the food in the cupboard?” Erin questions from the kitchen.

  Finally looking up over the top of my glasses, I lower my eyebrows. “What?”

  “Food brother dearest. The fridge is like empty.” She puts both her hands on the kitchen counter. “I thought you were going to the grocery store?”

  Damn it. I knew I was forgetting to do something. I swear the only thing I’ve been able to think about is getting back inside Stuart and hearing his moans echo through me again. See why a person shouldn’t go this long without having sex? There was actually a study done about—wait why do you now have a glossed over look in your eye?

  “I was.” I absentmindedly shake my head. “I’m sorry. I just...forgot.”

  “The List Master forgot?” Erin pokes walking towards me.

  I really hate her sometimes.

  “I was busy trying to finish this sweater.” I lift up the baby blue product.

  “That has to be the fourth sweater you’ve knitted in the past two weeks. I swear baby Kellar is gonna have one in every color.” Erin sits on the arm cushion beside Maxx who chortles.

  “Baby Kellar?” I sneer.

  “Well since Maxx and Logan are from the Stone Age and refuse to find out the gender, I had decided to call it spawn of Kellar, but that made Maxx violent, so I switched to baby Kellar.”

  “I wasn’t violent,” she argues.

  “You threw a baby shoe at me!”

  “There was a bug!”

  “There was not.” Erin rolls her eyes and looks back at me. “Why are you making it blue?”

  “Because they’re having a boy,” I sigh trying to continue to concentrate.

  “Are your nurse senses tingling?” Maxx giggles rubbing her t-shirt covered stomach.

  “Nurse senses?”

  “Like Spidey senses,” she replies.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Really?” Maxx’s look of disbelief causes my eyebrows to lower again. “Like Spiderman.”

  “Since when is predicting babies one of his superpowers?” My confusion makes Maxx’s jaw drop.

  Why are you oh my goshing me? How am I the one that sounds crazy?

  “Moving on...” My sister tilts her face at me. “Wanna talk about what’s got you buying out the craft supply store of knitting needles?”

  A short grunt comes out of me and I knit faster.

  “Come on,” Maxx encourages. “You make us talk all the time. Your turn.”

  “It’s my job to take care of you that’s why,” I softly reply.

  And it is. It was a promise I made. And one I’ve kept.

  “How about for once, you let us take care of you?” My sister questions sweetly in return. When I look up, her deep brown eyes that remind me so much of our mother’s are breaking down the resistance I’m trying to maintain. “Come on.”

  “Okay.” I place my project down in my lap. After clearing my throat I declare, “I did something I shouldn’t have.”

  “Something like poured out all my diet coke again?” Erin scowls at me.

  “What did I tell you about that shit? It’s bad for you. It’s worse for you than regular soda.”

  “That’s the conspiracy theory.”

  “It’s not a conspiracy theory.”

  “Focus,” Maxx inserts in the conversation. “What did you do?”

  Picking my knitting back up, I mumble, “I slept with Stuart.”

  “You what?!” They shriek in unison.

  “On the rooftop of his party yesterday.”

  “Oh my God!” They croak out together.

  It’s like having twin sisters. Very loud, very obnoxious twin sisters.

  “Did you make him fill out the 10 page form and pass the 8 page multiple choice test on STDs first?” Erin’s sarcasm forces me to grind my teeth.

  This is why I don’t tell her things.

  Maxx starts snickering, which makes my sister join her, and before I know it they erupt in laughter, shame falling down over me.

  Clearly I don’t feel guilty enough.

  Once Erin gains a little composure she shakes her head. “How on earth did that happen?” I shrug. “What do you mean shrug? Were you drunk?”

  “No.”

  “Were you tipsy?” Maxx chimes in.

  “No.”

  “Explain.” Erin slides onto the leather couch next to Maxx and drops her face in her hand. “Spare no details.”

  My face flushes. “You don’t need to know the details.”

  “I’m boning his best friend. Of course I need to know the details.”

  “How does that—”

  “Focus,” Maxx pops into the conversation again. “Please explain.”

  “I was on the roof top and he came up there,” the memory floods my body and immediately my cock stirs against my willpower. “One thing led to another, he started yelling at me—”

  “Yelling at you?” Erin questions.<
br />
  “Fussing at me—”

  “Fussing at you?” Maxx asks.

  Flustered I drop my needles again. “Stop echoing me.” The two of them press their lips together hushing. “He said something that...pushed me a little too far. Before I knew it we were kissing and then...you know how it ends.” Erin holds back a snicker as I continue. “I don’t know what it is about him! I just—I—he—then—I don’t know what’s wrong with me! He just...and then I...and I—” I cut myself off in a huff.

  “You’re adorable,” Maxx giggles rubbing her stomach.

  “I. Am. Not.” I point a stern finger at her. “And you. Have you had enough water today? What about—”

  “No-huh,” she cuts me off. “Stop that. You’re not changing the subject to me to take the attention off the fact you’re smitten over Stuart.”

  “I am not smitten,” I say in an unsteady voice.

  Don’t agree with her.

  “You so are,” my sister backs her up in a fit of giggles. “It’s kind of cute.”

  “I am not cute.” I wag a finger at her. “I just...made a mistake.”

  Quickly Maxx ponders, “Was it a mistake?”

  That’s the same damn thing I’ve been asking myself all day and no matter how I use logic to define why it was, it feels exactly the opposite.

  When I don’t immediately answer Erin says, “Look Luke. I know you think that everything has it’s place and position. That life can he be predicted and calculated. That the risks can be measured and prevented, but if I’ve learned anything from watching mom and dad, Maxx and Logan, hell even me and C.J. it’s the exact opposite. When you fall, which you clearly are, it’s fast, hard and it’s gonna hurt.”

  “Hurt so good...” Maxx whispers out and wiggles her eyebrows at me.

  “Score one for the pregnant lady.” The two of them high five at my expense.

  “Thank you for the dating advice that I clearly don’t need.”

  “Clearly you do,” Maxx tries to debate.

  “He can dish it, but he can’t take it.” Erin clarifies.

  “Can we change subjects?” I insist. “Like to maybe what kind of pizza you wanna order for dinner.”

  “Pizza,” Maxx whispers out like it’s a treasure chest.