Blank Space

by Francis Gideon

  "How can you watch this?" he asked. "That last joke was terrible."

  "Nostalgia, I think. I know most of this is trash, but I'm laughing."

  "But still, you're smarter than this, D. It's why I married you!"

  She narrowed her eyes, no longer as playful. "Have you ever really listened to your music?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Take the Pixies, for instance. I know you love them, and I do too. But you do realize how often they scream about whores, right? Even The Misfits have that song about cutting up a woman and then wondering if she still loves them. That's fucked up, even if it's a good song."

  Helena. Right, Curtis thought but didn't say. He knew how awful some of the lyrics to his favourite bands were. But he couldn't hear them half the time—or they weren't the point. It just wasn't the same…

  "Yeah," he finally said. "But it's—"

  "No, but," Darcy said. "I'm not telling you to stop listening to them. Only that we all like stupid and trashy things. Just let me have mine, okay? I let you have yours."

  Curtis went quiet. He had no idea if he had really been as obstinate as she seemed to articulate, but her voice was harsher than normal. And he had no idea if his music had really offended her. She was always careful about what they played around the girls, but he had thought that was because of the swearing. Now, he wasn't sure. The lyrics were just that—lyrics. Make believe. There was even a girl in the Pixies for a time. Kim Deal. Not a girl, Curtis corrected himself. A woman. Kim Deal was older than him.

  Finding no real solution, Curtis focused on the TV and tried to just watch the episode for the hell of it. But more gay jokes surfaced. He noticed that Darcy didn't laugh at them now, but she didn't look away, either. Is this what the culture was like ten years ago? Curtis wondered. It probably was. He couldn't be mad at Friends since it wasn't an origin point. It was just a TV show that skimmed the culture and fed it back to the masses. Friends didn't start the anti-gay sentiment, it was already alive and well.

  No wonder we didn't do anything, Curtis thought. No wonder any hook up—even with Adrian—never went anywhere serious. There was always a bad gay joke around the corner, a taunt waiting that could end in violence. No wonder Curtis had stayed in the closet for so long. No wonder Adrian had gotten drunk all the time and could barely remember his first hook-ups. No wonder…Curtis suddenly blinked back a memory of them in university. A memory of a party, of something that almost could have been…

  No, Curtis thought. I don't want to go there, not now. Not yet. It's the past anyway, so what does it matter anymore? Curtis stilled his breathing, unclenched his fists, and looked to make sure Darcy couldn't see his minor freak out in the dark. She didn't; she followed along with Ross and Rachel, not with Curtis right. I do wonder, Curtis thought, no longer fighting it, if me and Adrian had been ten years younger, and met now instead of then, would we have finished what we started?

  Sure, being gay was still difficult even now. Faggot was still an insult and gender seemed in an even more precarious position than ever before. But ten years ago, gay marriage had just been legalized in Canada. Brokeback Mountain was in theatres and people were still pronouncing the word gay as if it had been the first time they heard it before. The death of Matthew Shepard was still a spectre that haunted gay men, and if it wasn't Matthew Shepard, it was AIDs. People didn't know how to talk about gay people without talking about tragedy. Ten years later didn't make everything perfect and wonderful, but things were definitely a little easier. There were TV shows like Modern Family and Neil Patrick Harris with his husband and twins. Gay people weren't a punch line all the time, and they weren't always sob stories. If this had been the atmosphere when he met Adrian at university, there was no doubt in his mind they would have finished what they started. Suddenly, Curtis imagined his old dorm room with DVDs and Netflix instead of VHS and cable. He tore down the band posters from Audioslave and Bouncing Souls and instead put up AWOLNATION and Alexisonfire along the walls instead. He saw the new setting clearly, presently, and he imagined Adrian right alongside him, in bed with him, together for a lot longer than a night.

  And his heart sank with all the lost possibilities.

  The Friends episode ended and the small clock on the corner of the Netflix screen began to countdown to the next one.

  "Oh, no," Darcy said. She pushed off the blanket and rose from the couch. "I can't watch another episode or I'll be up all night."

  She adjusted her PJs for a second, before glancing down at Curtis. The clock on the side read seven more seconds for a decision. "Do you want me to keep it on for you?"

  "Yeah, sure. I think I'll stay up a while."

  "Well, I'll keep the bed warm for you when you come."

  She leaned down and kissed him, which he opened his mouth for gratefully. He loved her. That would never change. He loved his girls, and he could have never had them with Adrian. Not in this exact way—not with Sierra's pensive stares and Lacey's blonde curls—and he wouldn't change that for the world. And really, he couldn't change a thing now because time only went one way. Even if he realized he would change it, none of that really mattered.

  "Good night," Darcy said, pulling away from the kiss.

  "Goodnight."

  Darcy turned off the hall light as she made her way up the stairs, leaving Curtis with nothing but the glow of the flat screen. The red Netflix queue changed to the Friends episode and the theme song started again. Curtis took a deep breath. He still wanted, loved, and needed this life.

  But he still thought of what could have been.

  *~*~*

  "It's like..."Adrian lamented, running a hand through his hair. "Your life is not like that fucking Robert Frost poem. The road less travelled? That's bullshit. It's not an endorsement of the hippie lifestyle at all. Frost's entire point in the whole poem is that he took the road less travelled, but they both lead to the same place!"

  "So how can you choose?" Curtis asked. He was lying down on his dorm room bed during his fourth year of university. Adrian was in his last year, before taking the bar exam, and had come back from a study group really tired—and also really pissed. One of his friends in his law program had been going on and on about how he was going to be an environmental lawyer so he could make a change ("be the change he wished to see in the world" was how Adrian had mockingly put it). Of course, as far as every single one of them knew, there was no change to be made—just a test to pass at the end of the semester and the rest of their lives to get on with.

  "That's the point!" Adrian declared, gesturing wildly with his hands. "Choosing always leads to the same ending. So you may as well pick and have fun. Not get preachy about the more authentic life, because we'll all end up in the same place eventually."

  Curtis laughed a little. Adrian was always manic when he got back from these study groups—it was why he often said he had to stop by and see Curtis. They calmed one another down. And after Curtis had been through his gruelling Econ final project, he could also use the distraction of Adrian's rants. Incubus's Morning View CD was playing in the background, but Brandon Boyd's lyrics and the hyper-scratch from "Aqueous Transmission" had completely faded away into white noise. Curtis was only looking at Adrian, who still, in spite of making a lot of jokes about his lot in life as a lawyer, still looked pretty sad.

  "I mean, I'm in grad school, but I'm pretty much the only person in the program who seems to understand that we're the safest grad students out there. We're studying something that doesn't defy the man, as Jay seems to think, but actively conforms to it. We're in law, for fuck's sake."

  "Hey, I'm in business."

  "Hah, I know," Adrian said, shoving Curtis's leg and holding onto his ankle. "We're the most complacent degrees for the system itself. And yet, you're the only person I've met who can also argue against it."

  "Mmhmm. I'm planning on taking down the machine from the inside. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em?"

  "Right, but it's more than that, too," Adrian said, furr
owing his brows. "You're concerned about important issues, but you know when to stop taking yourself seriously. That balance is hard to come by."

  "Well, thank you." He eyed Adrian's small smile with concern. "If that's the case, then what's wrong?"

  Adrian sighed a little, before he moved his hand away from Curtis's leg. "Because I still like the Frost poem, even if people always interpret it wrong. It's always made me feel better, oddly enough, that everything will always end the same way, no matter what pathway I took. I will get through the forest—and that's enough for me."

  Curtis nodded. He could tell Adrian wasn't done, so he shifted closer so that their legs were touching again.

  "I suppose," Adrian went on. "I suppose I like it because it reminds me of being bisexual. That sounds foolish, right?"

  "Nah. Keep going, though. I want to understand."

  "And again, Curt, this is why I like you. The two pathways of the poem aren't really men or women—gender's not that reductive, I don't think, but that's another issue. The two pathways are normal life or … other life. Normal life with kids and a white fence, or as something else."

  "Something else?"

  "See? I don't even know what it could be—the other life. People don't even like to say bisexual, so how can I even understand what my other option is?"

  "People can't even accept gay yet."

  "It's getting there, though," Adrian said, nodding along. "I've seen the changes in the headlines for class—we have to watch them. But I'm not gay—I'm bi. And that's a thing in and of itself. It's not a halfway stop on the train to gay town, as someone in my study group said."

  "They said that to your face?"

  "Yeah, but they don't know I am bi. They were talking about a celebrity. But anyway," Adrian said, running his hand through his dark hair again. He would need a haircut soon, Curtis noted, but right now, his longer locks seemed to give him something to tug on as he tried to finish his thought without glancing at Curtis. "I'm not almost there—I am there. I'm bisexual, and it always feels as if I'm looking down two paths. Two life choices. I find it very, very comforting that Frost tells us that even the road less traveled ends up in the same place. It makes me feel like I'm missing out on less that way. I guess. I don't know, whatever. I should stop talking. It only gets me in trouble."

  Without another word, Adrian laid down on the bed next to Curtis. Adrian was closest to the wall now, right under Chris Cornell from Audioslave. Curtis laughed a little, before rolling over and reaching under his dorm room bed to pull out a comic book. Morning View finished, then started up again with "Nice To Know You." When Curtis continued to read his comic book, Adrian nudged his shoulder.

  "What?"

  "Aren't you going to tell me to keep going anyway?" Adrian asked.

  "Hey, I'm not your therapist."

  "I never trusted therapist. The word rapist is hidden right in the job description. I would never call you a therapist."

  Curtis snorted, then Adrian scooted closer. Curtis swallowed as he recognized the look in Adrian's eyes and the slight slant of his hips. When Adrian ranted about class, then fed it into ranting about his sexuality, Curtis usually knew that he wanted to hook-up. But they weren't at a party right then. They were in Curtis's crowded single dorm room and the afternoon sun made it feel like the middle of spring instead of in the winter. Curtis felt his desire swirl in his belly, and he knew he wanted Adrian right then, too. They had fooled around a few times before; just sucking and touching, sometimes helping the other jerk off before bed after a party. It didn't matter, really; it was always the kissing and slow make-out sessions that Curtis really liked.

  Curtis put the comic book away. He waited on the bed for a moment, before he turned to Adrian—only to have him meet his lips right away. Usually, they talked more. They skirted around the issue before they shoved their tongues in each other's mouths. But now they went right to it. A quick kiss turned to heated breaths, and they were making out. Adrian's hand slid inside Curtis's shirt and he pressed his palm against his back. Curtis moved closer to him, sliding his hands over Adrian's jeans and cupping his ass.

  "Fuck," Curtis said as Adrian moved on top of him. He pressed their crotches together, still wearing jeans, and grinding against him. He kissed Curtis's neck as he continued to swear, sucking and biting on the skin, before he pressed their lips together again. Curtis opened his mouth and took Adrian's tongue inside; he squirmed against him, then allowed their hips to collide more and more. "Fuck," he said again.

  "Yeah?" Adrian said, biting Curtis's lip and moving to his ear. "Fuck?"

  Curtis swallowed. "No, not fuck. Just touch me."

  Adrian laughed and went lower. He undid Curtis's belt while gazing up at him, spit still glistening on his lips. Curtis's T-shirt was halfway up his body, his dark chest hair trailing down between his navel and pubic hair. His breathing was erratic, especially as Adrian pulled Curtis out of his boxers and took him in his mouth.

  "Ohhh," Curtis moaned. God. Adrian was so, so much better at this than anyone he had met before. Adrian licked the underside of his cock as his hands twisted around the base, before he took him deep into his mouth. Curtis could feel Adrian relax his throat before he felt him swallow around him. There was a small gagging noise, which Curtis had to pretend he didn't hear—or else he'd come too quickly. And he was not ready at all to have this be over. He tugged on Adrian's long hair, directing his attention back towards Curtis's face.

  "Come here," Curtis practically begged. "I want to..."

  Adrian slid up against Curtis's body, his hands under Curtis's shirt, and took it off as he moved up. Their lips met again when Curtis's shirt was gone and Adrian's own dick was out. He held them both together in his large hands and continued to thrust. Curtis moaned under Adrian, and before he knew it, they were both naked and under the covers. He continued to kiss Adrian, longer and harder, before he slipped farther down Adrian's body—licking his hips and sucking on his nipples—before Adrian was in his mouth. He knew he wasn't as good as Adrian, but he still made appreciative noises each time Curtis went down. When his jaw got tired, he slipped a hand over Adrian's cock and jerked him off, but soon Adrian pulled Curtis back up so they were mouth to mouth and chest to chest again. They moved together, rubbing their bodies back and forth, until the room was dark.

  "How long have we been doing this?" Curtis asked, pulling away with a gasp. His cock was so hard he was almost in pain, but he still didn't want this to end.

  "I don't know. Should I keep going? I think I have a class tonight…"

  Curtis tugged Adrian's face towards his again. He pressed a kiss against his lips, then rested his forehead against his. "Yeah, keep going. Make me come."

  "Make you come?" Adrian slid a hand over both their cocks and rocked them together.

  Curtis let out an incomprehensible noise. "Yeah, make me come."

  Adrian kissed him—teeth gnashing hard—before he moved to take him in his mouth again. Curtis tried to tug on Adrian's hair to warn him as he came, but Adrian stayed put. He swallowed it all, before he stood over Curtis on the bed.

  "Can I come on you?"

  Curtis nodded. His skin was still hot and flushed from coming, so when Adrian finally released onto his chest, he barely felt it. What he did feel, however, was Adrian kiss his way up from Curtis's waist and lick him clean.

  "Oh, God," Curtis said once he realized what was happening. His cock twitched each time he felt the warm pressure of Adrian's tongue, though he was soft now. "You're so filthy."

  "Shut up."

  Curtis laughed only to have Adrian tackle him back onto the bed, pinning his arms down, before he kissed him. Long and slow this time, so much that Curtis was sure he could taste himself between Adrian's lips. As much as he liked kissing Adrian, it was always weird after they had gotten off. Soon after they pulled apart, a heaviness fell over the room, almost as if they had now realized what they had done.

  "You have a class?" Curtis asked and pulled some of
the blankets over his torso.

  "Uh—Yeah. Nothing much." Adrian got up from the bed, still naked, and began to gather the books he had tossed down on Curtis's floor after coming in from study break. He also picked up his clothing, tossing a T-shirt over his torso before he found his boxers on the ground. As Curtis dressed to, Adrian caught his eye.

  "So, March break is coming up."

  "Yeah," Curtis said. Dressed now, he walked across the room to shut off Incubus and put on a different CD. "I was thinking of going to a few shows."

  "Nice. I was too."

  "Oh?"

  "Yeah, but back home. In Waterloo. They have a pretty good scene there."

  "Cool. I've never seen it—or know of any bands from there."

  "You want to see it?" Adrian leaned against the wall, his backpack over his shoulder. There was something about his eyes and the way he looked at Curtis that made Curtis shiver. He wanted what Adrian was offering, but he also knew they were talking about more than just music. As the new CD came on, Curtis went to sit on the bed. He was about to say he didn't know—maybe he could go—when Adrian sat down with him. Side by side, he could feel the tension building up in Adrian's shoulders and hear the question in his breath. Curtis could also smell the sex in the room. He felt drawn towards it, more than he ever had before. He liked fucking around with Adrian, but that was all it had to be, right? Each time he tried to see anything else, it fizzled away like a scratch on a CD.

  "Um…." Curtis trailed off, rubbing his hands over his knees. He suddenly heard the kids down the hallway, the loud noises, and felt the judgement sting the air. Adrian leaned closer to him and put a hand over his on his knee to cease its movement.