Life on Pause

by Erin McLellan

  The fastest route to the overflow parking lot would take Todd and Rusty right by Niles, but Todd took the long way around and never once glanced up from the ground.

  Rusty lumbered after Todd, shaking his head. When he reached the top of the hill, his gaze snagged on Niles, and he stumbled to a stop. They stared at each other.

  Or glared, more like. Niles knew there was pain in his eyes, but there was anger too, and he had no idea which Rusty could see more clearly.

  After a few seconds that seemed like a lifetime, Rusty nodded awkwardly, and Niles simply looked away. And then Rusty followed Todd into the shadowy field full of festival litter, gravel, and souped-up trucks.

  With his stomach in his throat, Rusty trudged after Todd, who he hoped wouldn’t leave his ass at the festival. His mind was reeling from the kiss. There was no doubt that Todd had been acting strange all night, his vulnerability on full blast. And when Todd had kissed him, Rusty probably hadn’t handled it well. Instead of pulling back with grace and understanding, Rusty had said, “Todd, what the ever loving hell are you doing?” while their lips were still pressed together.

  And then Niles. Fucking Niles. It was so clear he’d seen it. The way he had scowled, anger burning up his eyes like sparklers, gutted Rusty. He hadn’t known what to say or how to react, but then Niles had turned away, effectively dismissing him.

  Rusty finally caught up with Todd in the parking lot. He was leaning against the passenger’s side door of his car, his eyes downcast and chewing on the edge of his thumbnail. “You have my keys.”

  Rusty patted his pants pocket until he felt them. Todd had asked him to hold his keys earlier in the night when he’d been trying to juggle his keys, his ID, and his wallet, and Rusty had simply pocketed them. Such a miniscule action, but so familiar. Rusty had done the same thing hundreds of times in the past, and the memories gave him a painful jolt. “I shouldn’t drive anyway,” Todd continued. “Are you good?”

  Rusty nodded. He was sober. Todd had finished his last beer. But rather than unlocking the car, Rusty walked right up into Todd’s space and hugged him. Todd stood stiff in his arms, but Rusty didn’t let him go. He might not be able to fix things with Niles, but he could fix this with Todd.

  “I’m sorry,” he said into Todd’s ear. “Let’s go to my place and clear the air. I think we need to talk some, huh?” Todd finally relaxed, slumping into his arms and nodding against his shoulder.

  But Rusty wasn’t any more comfortable in his apartment than he’d been at the festival. At least here he could down two fingers of cheap whiskey rather than tiny cups of fancy beer. There were times when only cheap whiskey could cut it.

  Todd watched him from the kitchen island, unmoving and clearly miserable.

  “Want anything?” Rusty asked. “I have some of that tequila you like.”

  “Water is fine. I need to sober up so I can drive home.”

  “I could make you a Frito chili pie.” That had always been Todd’s go-to drunk food, and Rusty knew exactly how he liked it: canned chili, shredded cheese, and drizzled in mustard.

  “Do you have all the stuff for it?” Todd’s voice was choked and plaintive.

  Rusty flushed a little. He didn’t eat chili or mustard, so it was leftover from when they’d been together. It felt weirdly significant to still have Todd’s favorite food in his house when it was truly nothing but laziness and not wanting to throw away food that wasn’t expired.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then yes. Make me some comfort food. I gotta feelin’ I’ll need it.”

  Rusty busied himself assembling Todd’s meal, trying to clear his head and prepare for the conversation he knew they could no longer avoid. Todd stayed silent through all of his cooking, simply studying Rusty with his pale blue eyes. There was too much history here. Too much familiarity. They’d enjoyed so many identical evenings, but in those instances, Todd’s eyes had been filled with fire and lust as Rusty had cooked for him. The twisted déjà vu of the night disarmed Rusty.

  He placed the Frito chili pie in front of Todd and sat beside him at the counter. Todd dug into his food, and Rusty propped his head up in his hand and watched him.

  At one point, Todd got a tiny smudge of mustard stuck in the blond stubble above his upper lip. In the past, Rusty would have rubbed it off with his thumb, and Todd would have licked the food off Rusty’s digit. He could practically see them acting out their former roles like understudies in a bad play. But instead of following his normal stage directions, Rusty handed Todd a napkin.

  “I’m sorry I kissed you,” Todd said suddenly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  “Why’d you do it?”

  “Because I love you.”

  Those words hit Rusty like a brick. There had been a time when he would have done anything to hear them again, but not anymore.

  “Why’d you break up with me, Todd? Your reasons at the time didn’t really make sense.”

  Pain and confusion filled Todd’s eyes, so Rusty slid off his seat and enveloped him in another hug. “Be honest, hon. I think we need to be honest,” he whispered.

  Todd nodded, and his hair tickled and stuck in Rusty’s beard.

  “I’d started to wonder if we were right for each other, or if we’d simply fallen together because we were lonely and single in a small-ass town with the worst Grindr dashboard ever.” A bitter laugh bubbled out of Rusty, and he pressed it into Todd’s shoulder. Grindr in Bison Hills was full of racists, his former students, and closeted married men. Todd’s voice grew soft and insistent. “But I was wrong. We were so good together.”

  “Todd, I’m not the right guy for you. I can see that, now that we’ve had some distance. Our relationship was convenient.” Todd flinched and pulled out of Rusty’s arms, and Rusty let him go. “You were the only queer man I knew in town, and you’re gorgeous and kind and sexy. You dazzled me from the beginning, but we’re not right for each other.” He cupped Todd’s cheek. “If there were a crowd of queer guys all lined up waiting for you, I would not have been your first choice.” Todd shook his head, but Rusty plowed on. “And that’s okay. But we can no longer pretend it isn’t true. You might have been my first choice because you’re beautiful. Because you’re so bright and lively and you draw everyone’s eye, no matter what room you’re in. But you deserve better than that too. You deserve someone who is right for you. And so do I.”

  “But don’t you see?” Todd glided his long-fingered, piano-playing hand over Rusty’s forearm and circled the bones of his wrist with his thumb and forefinger. “I made the biggest mistake of my life the day I broke up with you. I love you. You’re not just the other queer man in town to me. You’re everything to me.”

  “And you only realized that after things fell apart with Mike?” Rusty couldn’t keep the cynicism out of his voice. It might be easy for Todd to say these things, for him to come back to Rusty as if this epiphany would fix everything, but Todd had jumped into a hotter, younger man’s ass the first chance he’d gotten. And Rusty had changed.

  “What can I say or do to fix this?” Todd asked.

  “Oh, God, Todd. There’s no fixing it.”

  The small hurt sound Todd made almost crumpled Rusty. This was a harder conversation than their breakup.

  “You want Niles Longfellow.” Todd pitched his head forward and the fall of his hair obscured the pain in eyes. “I knew it.”

  “Not really. I mean, I do, but I can’t keep throwing my heart up in the air hoping he won’t shoot it down each time he feels insecure. And I made mistakes with him too. Like a lot of mistakes.”

  “Well, I guess there are always women,” Todd said bitterly.

  A smile sneaked up on Rusty. It wasn’t like Todd to bring up Rusty’s bisexuality. It had been a nonissue when they’d been together.

  “Hey now. Don’t go getting all jealous that I like women too.”

  Todd smiled as well and then laughed wetly. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just being resentful of anyone who might
catch your eye now. Jackie knows a ton of single women here in Bison Hills. She could always introduce you to someone.”

  Ah, shit. Rusty really needed to tell Todd about Sapulpa. It wasn’t fair to keep talking as if Rusty had any future in Bison Hills at all.

  “Jackie and Margo are moving. She’s opening a salon with one of her former coworkers in Sapulpa.”

  Todd lifted his hand to his mouth and distress washed through his eyes. “You’re going to leave too, aren’t you?” he said through his fingers.

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I have that drink?”

  Rusty laughed and got Todd some tequila.

  “If I drink this, I won’t be able to drive home for a while.”

  Well, what else could go wrong? This whole day had been a clusterfuck.

  “You can sleep here. On the couch, I mean. The couch is comfortable.”

  “I remember,” Todd said, his voice laden with sadness and innuendo. They’d fucked aplenty on that couch. But those memories did nothing for Rusty now, not in the face of hours and hours of time spent beside Niles, close but not quite touching, laughing, and forging a friendship.

  Rusty was going to have to get a new fucking couch.

  “I’m not sure I want to sleep on your sofa,” Todd sighed.

  “Fair enough.” Rusty pulled Todd’s tequila toward himself and took a sip. “None of this for you, then.” He got Todd a can of Dr Pepper instead.

  An hour later, Rusty was drunk and Todd was gone.

  He was lonely, and he had no one to blame but himself.

  The week after the Bluestem Bluegrass Festival was hellacious. Every day hurt, and every evening, Niles was unable to stop his insecurities and self-loathing from rushing through him like a thunderstorm, overwhelming him with noise until he could hardly stand his own presence.

  But tonight he was trying to put on a happy face for Victor, hoping the Skype video connection was poor enough that Victor wouldn’t be able to see how lousy he was doing. His chest hurt and his head was congested from crying every night that week. If Victor asked, Niles was going to claim he had rhinovirus.

  “I think I’m going to buy new furniture.” Niles was sitting on his parents’ sofa, his computer on his lap. It would be hard to make changes to his parents’ home, but he hoped it would be like ripping off a Band-Aid—short and sharp and over fast.

  “What will you do with the old stuff?” Victor asked.

  “Craigslist?”

  Victor drummed his fingers against his computer, which reverberated through the speakers of Niles’s laptop. “That’s a good idea. It’ll give you a bit of a distraction, and maybe clearing it all out will help you feel more settled in the house.”

  “Yeah, maybe. That’s the plan, at least.”

  “You need to turn it into your home. Right now, it’s not. It’s like you’re visiting your parents over Christmas, but neither of them are there and you’re living in the shell of the life they left behind.”

  The truth of those words rang Niles like a bell. “My father hasn’t left me behind yet.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I know. I didn’t mean it like that. Will he ever be able to come home, though?”

  “No,” Niles admitted. It was even truer than it had been weeks ago. His dad had gashed his calf somehow last week, and it wasn’t healing right. The doctors had warned Niles about possible infections, and Niles was already preparing himself for the way intravenous antibiotics would zap his father’s strength. “He’s getting worse. That’s to be expected, though.”

  Niles fiddled with the hem of his T-shirt. He didn’t know what else to say to Victor, which was a first, so he let the silence stretch awkwardly between them.

  “Baby, are you all right? You look like shit, you sound like you smoke a pack a day, and you’re freaking me the fuck out. I know you’re having a hard time with your dad and the house, but it feels like there’s something else.”

  “Hey now! I don’t tell you when you look like shit,” Niles pouted. Victor’s silent stare spoke volumes because he never looked like shit. He was a perfect specimen of human hotness.

  “Just tell me what happened?”

  Like a Band-Aid. Like a Band-Aid. His new motto. “I saw Rusty kissing his ex-boyfriend at the Bluestem Bluegrass Festival last weekend.”

  Victor’s face didn’t move in the Skype window, and Niles was sure for a second that the image had frozen. Then Victor said, “Well, that sucks. Why would he do that there? He had to have known you might see him. That’s your place of work.”

  “Yeah. What a dick.” Niles’s voice was hollow and forced. It sounded strange to his own ears.

  He didn’t actually think Rusty was a dick. He didn’t think The Todd was a dick either. At least Todd had warned him, though it would have been nice if he’d waited to kiss Rusty until he knew Niles wasn’t watching. But losers can’t be choosers.

  “I know things got screwed up with Rusty,” Victor said after several seconds. “But I’m glad you dated him. You needed to see what it was like to be with a halfway decent guy for once. And now you can date another nice guy, and maybe it will go better. Rusty was good practice.”

  Niles scoffed so hard snot almost flew from his nose. “What fairy tale do you live in, Vic? Where am I going to meet another nice guy? I live in fucking Bison Hills.”

  “Yeah, and Tulsa is an hour away. Oklahoma City is less than three. Fayetteville is a little over an hour. That’s three cities right there with a bigger gay population. Not to mention the hundreds of small towns in between. You’re a small-town gay. There are other small-town gays out there! Just start to fucking look!”

  Victor’s exasperation surprised Niles. He hadn’t realized Victor was so invested in his love life. Well, except for his strong opinions on sex toys. “You want me to go to Arkansas to find a boyfriend?” Niles asked, not able to mask his disbelief. He didn’t have anything against Arkansas, and it wasn’t as bad as Texas. But still.

  “One of the best fucks of my life was a Razorback fan from Little Dixie. Don’t be such a snob. I want you to stop being lonely, that’s all. It’s self-imposed. Don’t you see that?”

  “Self-imposed?”

  “Yes. Breakups suck, Niles. No one can deny that. And I have no doubt that you’ll get over Rusty, but then what? What comes next?”

  Niles bristled. “What do you mean? I’m going to do what I’ve always done. I’ve been single as long as you’ve known me.”

  “You haven’t been heartbroken. This is totally new.”

  Heat crept up Niles’s neck, and he stared at Victor on the screen.

  “I’m not heartbroken,” Niles finally said, but the words tasted ashy in his mouth. The lie choked him.

  “Yes, you are. You fell for a guy and then you both screwed it up. Your dad is dying. Don’t try to diminish the pain you’re in. Don’t sugarcoat it. Not for me.”

  Tears immediately sprung to Niles’s eyes.

  “Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “I’m not,” Niles croaked, and then laughed because it was such a pathetic denial. He wiped his nose with his sleeve.

  “Can I come visit you?”

  “Of course,” Niles said automatically, thrown by the subject change. “When?”

  “My hitch ends in a couple of days, so next week. I can help you redecorate and go through your parents’ stuff if you want. We’ll make your bedroom look like a Hogwarts common room and get a glass display case for your sex toys. It’ll be awesome.”

  Another laugh bubbled out of Niles, but it was awfully wet.

  “And in the meantime,” Victor continued. “Think about the things you liked about dating Rusty, the things that aren’t necessarily specific to him. Eating dinner with someone, watching TV with another person, having a guy to text at the end of the day. You could have those with someone else. You don’t have to be lonely.”

  Niles nodded, but Victor was missing such an integral part of the picture. Those thi
ngs were special because of the way Rusty had made him feel. Eating dinner with Rusty had been special because their quiet companionship had filled him with contentment. Talking to Rusty had been special because he had made Niles feel like his words were worth hearing. Watching television shows with Rusty had been special because being near him had made Niles’s heart beat fast, and seeing his reactions and hearing his thoughts about each show had made Niles fall in love with Rusty’s mind. Relationships weren’t only about warm bodies. Maybe Victor didn’t understand that.

  Rusty had ruined their relationship by lying, and Niles had ruined it by being insecure and emotionally walled off.

  Then Rusty had kissed Todd. Who was right for him in a million other ways.

  And Niles was nothing but alone.

  He’d missed his chance, and that realization was what finally pushed him into his secret stash of good booze.

  The buzzing of Rusty’s doorbell ripped him out of a restless sleep. He checked the time, and it was a little after midnight.

  Who the hell could that be?

  Probably some teenage prank, which he was so not in the mood for.

  The doorbell buzzed again so he reluctantly dragged himself out of bed. His apartment didn’t have one of those handy intercoms, so he opened the window above the alley and stared straight down. A tall, lanky, male figure was directly below him with his hands braced on the wall. Even in the dark, Rusty recognized the agitated, uncomfortable body language of Niles.

  He couldn’t hold in his shock, and he gasped, “Niles!” before he could stop himself. Niles glanced up and waved miserably.

  “Hold on,” Rusty croaked. He pulled on a T-shirt and some pajama bottoms, and rushed down the stairs.

  As soon as Rusty was out the door and into the alley, Niles pressed against him and put his mouth on Rusty’s jaw. The sudden heat of his body was so unbearably welcome that dizziness rushed through Rusty. He clutched at Niles’s hips though, ready to push him off no matter how fucking good he felt. But then Niles shivered against him, like he was cold, and Rusty hesitated to shove him away.

  “Are you okay?” Rusty asked.