by Smith,T. M.
“We ended our last session discussing moving on, and ways to do that. Have you given anymore thought to that, Gabe?” Tristan asked, his ballpoint pen perfectly poised and ready to write out whatever it was Tristan wrote when they had these sessions.
“Uh, yeah, I have. I know I don’t want to go back to doing porn. I’m happy producing and editing with Andy. He said last week they were going to hire on more models so they could do more shoots, and he would need me in a more full-time capacity then.” Gabe fidgeted a little. He trusted Tristan implicitly, but baring his soul in these sessions always made him feel exposed and raw.
“That’s great Gabe, definitely a positive step forward for you. But can you tell me why the decision not to do porn again?” There was no malice in Tristan’s voice when he asked the question, but Gabe was certain his posture stiffened slightly as he said the words.
Gabe shook his head. “That part of my life is behind me now, and in some strange way, I feel like if I did go back to that, it would be disrespecting Gio’s memory. Does that make sense?”
“Of course it does. And I think it is good for you mentally, physically and emotionally if you continue to move forward. Don’t live in the past, or try to walk backwards.” Gabe sucked in a breath, his body rigid.
Tristan held his hands up, shaking his head. “Sorry, Gabe, that may have come out wrong. What I meant was, the porn is in the past and I think continuing to pursue other paths, not going back down that road, is what would probably be the best course of action for you.”
Gabe released the breath he’d been holding, his body visibly relaxing and nodding. “I know, Tristan. It’s just hard, you know. I haven’t even been able to bring myself to go through all the boxes in storage from the condo yet. His parents went before the movers came and took anything they wanted of his, but there is still stuff there, I know it, and I don’t know if I could handle going through it all yet.”
“That is a very valid emotion Gabe. Answer me this, have you considered asking someone with you to the storage place?” Tristan asked.
Gabe shook his head, staring down at his hands, clasped in his lap. “Will you at least consider it Gabe? I’m certain anyone here would go with you; I would help you if you asked.”
Gabe looked up then, eyes wide. “You would?”
“Of course I would, Gabe. I know we started off as a therapist and a client, but I like to think we have become friends these last few months as well.” Tristan smiled reassuringly.
Gabe chuckled, “Yeah, we have, haven’t we?”
“Yes.”
Gabe starred out the big bay window that opened up to The Sound, watching a boat sail by. “Gabe, you okay?” Tristan asked.
“Yeah, just remembering the Labor Day barbeque here at the house, Gio was here…” Gabe’s voice trailed off. He blinked a couple times, trying desperately to fight back the tears.
Tristan gave him a few moments to compose himself before he made his suggestion. “You know, I have a client that works as an attorney for a local non-profit LGBT shelter for homeless youth and young adults. I could help you go through the things in storage. Then I’m there if you need me in a professional capacity. But more importantly, I’ll be there as your friend if that is what you need. Then, we can take whatever you want to get rid of to the shelter. Does that sound like something you would be willing to do, Gabe?”
Gabe met his gaze with water-logged eyes, a half-smile on his face. “I think that sounds perfect, Tristan.”
“Good. I’ll make a call to Beau and get some more information for you about how it works and such,” Tristan said, grinning. “Now, where were we?”
Chapter 3| Lightweight
When they went back downstairs, Micah was surprised to see that it was already dark outside; he hadn’t thought they were filming for that long. “Time flies when you’re having fun, right Micah?” Chris said as he passed him on the stairs, quickly heading toward the dining room where Linc sat at the table with Mattie playing cards. Micah stood there, at the bottom of the stairs watching the pair. He understood the relationship that Victor, Andrew and Mattie shared, having spent enough time with them to see how they loved each other. That wasn’t to say he didn’t see the love Linc and Chris shared — anyone with half a brain could see that.
Micah just couldn’t comprehend how two men that were committed to each other could stomach their partner doing porn. Even after voicing his thoughts out loud at dinner once and having Chris explain the dynamics to him and everyone else at the table. “It’s simple really,” Chris told him. “We have three rules that will never be broken. First, we only top on film. Second, we don’t watch each other shooting a scene. Third, we never bring the job home with us. Our home is sacred; it’s our sanctuary and we keep it separate from our work.”
Regardless of Chris and Linc’s rules, Micah knew he would never be able to deal with such an arrangement, rules or not. In reality though, it’s not like any of it mattered. No one would ever want to love the person he had become since his time in Iraq — he was damaged goods, both inside and out.
“There you are.” Gabe bounded down the stairs, stopping and hugging Micah when he reached the step just above the one Micah stood on. “Tristan and I were waiting for you, thought you might like to go into the city with us for dinner.”
Micah’s first thought was to refuse, but the excited look in Gabe’s eyes made him rethink that. “All right, I guess, just let me go change first.”
It didn’t take him long to change and head back downstairs, finding Gabe and Tristan waiting on the porch for him. Just before he walked out the kitchen door, he heard Gabe talking quietly to Tristan. “I think getting out will do him some good; he rarely leaves the house and that can’t be good for his mood.”
Micah froze with his hand on the door knob. Of course his gut reaction was to deny every word Gabe had just uttered, to tell the man to fuck off and ask why the hell the two of them were talking about him. How dare they feel fucking sorry for him! Closing his eyes and taking a few deep, calming breaths, Micah shook off the need to rush to anger, telling that devil on his shoulder that Gabe and Tristan were his friends, only concerned about his well-being.
He jerked the door open a little harder than he probably should have, stepping out on the porch and letting the screen door slam shut behind him. The loud bang didn’t affect Micah the same when he was causing the noise as it did when he didn’t know the sound was coming. Gabe and Tristan both jumped to their feet. “Fuck a duck, Micah!” Gabe shouted. “You trying to give a guy a heart attack?”
Micah barely suppressed his devilish grin; he shrugged his shoulders and Gabe responded by flipping him the bird. He hopped down the steps with Micah right behind him, and they followed Tristan to his truck. The ride into the city was surprisingly fast, he thought. His two companions made sure there wasn’t more than ten seconds of silence during the drive, talking about Tristan’s residency program he was starting in two weeks, and Gabe possibly going apartment hunting now that the condo he had bought with Gio had been sold.
“Does Vic not want you to stay out at the house anymore?” Micah asked.
“Oh no, they would let me live there forever I think, but…” Gabe paused, staring out the window for a few moments. “I think I need something that is my own now, something apart from Gio and All Cocks.” No one spoke again for a while and Micah thought he might choke on the silence. It was suffocating in the confined space they were, at the moment, stuck in.
Tristan clicked the radio off before he spoke. “You know, there is a doctor I know that just divorced and is selling his house. It’s a brownstone in Brooklyn; it’s newly remodeled, affordable and the neighborhood is pretty quiet. I could set up a meeting with him if you like, Gabe.” Tristan mentally kicked himself for not mentioning this earlier during their session, but he had been so focused on Gabe and what they needed to work on that it had slipped his mind until now.
“Really?” Gabe’s eyes were as wide as his s
mile. It must have been contagious, because Micah and Tristan both smiled and laughed.
“Really. I’ll call him when we get to the restaurant and see if he’s free one day next week.” Tristan reached over and touched Gabe’s leg, his fingers tightening, lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary.
Micah felt a surge of anger roiling in his gut watching the two of them from the backseat. He knew he had no right, nor a claim to either man. He shook those stray thoughts clear when he heard Gabe calling his name. “Micah, you okay?”
“Uhh… what? Yeah, why?” Micah could feel the heat in his cheeks and prayed Gabe couldn’t see it.
“I asked you if you would go with me to meet the doctor about the brownstone, like, twice.” There was a hint of humor in Gabe’s voice.
“Oh, yeah, I can do that.” Micah grinned, hoping like hell it didn’t look like a grimace.
Gabe turned his attention back to Tristan, chattering like an anxious teenager. Micah tuned them out and turned, staring out the window, watching as the trees that lined the roads grew sparser the closer they came to the city.
***
Dinner had been a bit awkward initially. It seemed no one wanted to start a conversation. Clipped words, awkward looks and uncomfortable body language were the appetizers for the evening. Eventually, Micah asked Tristan about work and school and that led to a comment about his family, and the conversation finally picked up from there.
“Seriously, your family was upset that you decided to become a psychiatrist?” Gabe asked Tristan.
Tristan nodded as he shoveled a bite of manicotti into his mouth, chewing before he washed it down with a sip from his wine glass. “When you come from a long line of men that have worn blue, a large family that is equal parts Irish, Italian and pig headed, everyone is stubborn to a fault. Once they all figured out I was serious and what I was learning really made me happy, they backed off.”
Micah drank the last bit of wine from his glass then grabbed the bottle and filled his glass before topping off Tristan and Gabe’s glasses with the last few drops. Tristan waved the waiter over, tapping the top of the empty bottle, indicating he wanted another one for the table.
“What about you Micah, what did you want to be when you grew up? Was it always the army, or was that decision maybe a spur of the moment thing?” Tristan asked. It wasn’t a subject Micah talked about freely, but he understood that Tristan was just trying to get to know him better, not prying about his injury.
Micah chuckled as he reached for his wine glass. “No, the army definitely wasn’t spur of the moment, but it’s not what I dreamed about when I was little, either.” He paused to take a healthy sip from his glass then placed it back on the table next to his plate. “Believe it or not, I wanted to be a cowboy when I was little.”
“Really?” Gabe laughed.
“Yep. I was Woody — you know, from the movie Toy Story.” Micah smiled, remembering the happy day. “Well, I was Woody for Halloween one year and I fell in love with the boots and the cap gun. After that I started watching re-runs of Bonanza and The Lone Ranger and I told my mom I was going to be a real-life cowboy one day.” The mention of his mother clouded Micah’s mood for a moment before he shook his head and inhaled a deep breath, pushing any thoughts of his family swiftly away.
Gabe chuckled, eyes down while he filled his fork with pasta then stabbed at a meatball and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. Micah laughed; it was funny seeing Gabe’s cheeks poking out, sauce trailing from the corner of his mouth down his chin.
Napkin in hand, Tristan reached out and wiped the sauce off Gabe’s chin. Shaking his head but smiling, Tristan said, “You’ve got a mouthful of pasta…” and before he could finish the sentence Micah said, “and balls!” He and Tristan cracked up while Gabe did his best not to choke as he tried to swallow his food while laughing.
Gabe’s eyes watered from the mixture of laughter, chewing and choking, but he finally managed to swallow and when he opened his mouth to speak, he burped. This caused the three of them to laugh ferociously again and Micah was fairly certain he coughed wine up through his nostrils, the burn was so intense.
When they all finished laughing, Gabe cleared his throat and smiled, lifting his glass in the air. “For the longest time, I didn’t think I would ever laugh again. Thank you both; you don’t know how much I needed this night out.”
“I’ll second that.” Tristan held his glass up.
“Here’s to stuffing your mouth too full, not choking to death, drinking some great wine and laughing out loud with new friends.” Gabe tipped his glass in the air and the three glasses clanked loudly when the met.
The three laughed, drank and talked until the hostess ushered them out the door at one in the morning so she could close. While they were walking to Tristan’s truck, he pulled out his phone and called his brother. “Hey Jon boy, I’m in the city with Micah and Gabe and I’d rather not drive back out to Mamaroneck at this ungodly hour; mind if we come crash at your place?”
Micah and Gabe glanced at each other then back to Tristan, listening to the one sided conversation as Tristan cranked the truck and turned the heat to full blast. “Yeah… No… Why do you say that? Not even… ‘kay, be there soon.”
“I take it we’re going to Jon and Kory’s place, then?” Gabe asked.
Tristan nodded. “Yeah, they have a spare room and two big couches, so there’s plenty of space.”
Micah wasn’t sure how he felt about staying at Jon and Kory’s place. He didn’t have anything with him; what if he had a nightmare? His sleeping pills were out at the big house so he couldn’t pre-medicate just to be safe. Not to mention, he didn’t sleep with his prosthetic on, nor did he let just anybody see him without it on. Either Tristan had the ability to read minds, or he was already learning Micah’s body language.
“Gabe and I will crash on the couches and you can take the spare room, Micah.” Tristan smiled and winked at Micah’s reflection in the rearview mirror.
“Okay, thanks,” he murmured.
Gabe made a funny noise, part squeak part giggle. “You okay there, Gabe?” Micah asked.
Gabe laughed out loud. “Yeah, I’m good, it’s just — “He let out a full on snort-laugh. It was adorable and Micah couldn’t stop his smile if he tried. “Well, Kory is pretty vocal and the guest room is right next to his and Jon’s room, so…” Gabe was slurring his words slightly, so when he let the sentence trail off, Micah didn’t push because he really didn’t want Gabe to delve further into what Jon and Kory did in their bedroom.
Tristan laughed — it was dark, deep, full bodied laugh. It wasn’t the first time Micah noticed his body having a reaction to something Tristan said or did. He shook his head, trying to jerk loose those stray thoughts and frowned. “Great, you wouldn’t happen to have an Ambien in your glove box, would ya, Doc?”
Tristan shook his head, quietly laughing. Micah sighed. Crossing his arms over his chest, he pouted and resigned himself to a sleepless night camped out in the room next to a couple of horny rabbits.
A car horn pulled Micah from his peaceful sleep. He jerked upright and looked around the room trying to recognize the pale blue walls and the dark blue comforter that covered him. It took a couple minutes, but he finally remembered dinner and drinks with Tristan and Gabe. And then Tristan bringing them to his brother’s house to crash for the night, instead of making the hour and half drive back out to Victor’s place.
After the comment Gabe made in the truck when they left the restaurant, Micah was certain that Jon and Kory’s reputation as horn-dogs would keep him up half the night. Thankfully, when they arrived Jon met them at the door and asked that they settle in as quietly as possible since Kory was already asleep. Micah climbed out of bed and got dressed, stopping to use the bathroom before finding his way to the kitchen, where Tristan and Kory were sitting at the table drinking coffee and eating cereal. Tristan looked up when he came into the room and smiled. “Well, good morning sleepy-head.”
<
br /> Micah waved, then pointed at the coffeemaker. Kory nodded and waved his arm in the air. Once he had a cup in hand full of steaming greatness, Micah turned and leaned against the cabinet, realizing he didn’t see Gabe anywhere. “Where’s Gabe?”
“Still sleeping.” Tristan pointed toward the living room, never taking his eyes off the paper he was reading.
A groan and the sound of feet shuffling across the linoleum drew their attention and they all turned just as an obviously hungover Gabe waddled into the kitchen. His long blonde hair resembled a bird’s nest and he wore just his T-shirt and boxers; they looked like Gabe had actually slept on top of them, then dragged them back on before getting out of bed.
Micah suppressed a laugh, lifting his cup and taking a swig instead. Gabe shuffled one foot in front of the other, one eye closed, the other only halfway open and groaned.
“Trying out for an extra on The Walking Dead, Gabe?” Kory joked. Gabe responded by flipping him off with one hand while he grabbed a cup with the other and poured the last of the coffee into it.