Love's Changes

by LaQuette

  “Don’t thank me,” Martin responded. “This is all you, my friend. Come lie down on the table. Let me loosen up your chest before we get out of here today.”

  Bryan headed for the table, stretching out slowly, relaxing his back on the cushioned surface. As soon as Martin’s fingers pressed into his flesh, Bryan’s eyes closed, falling willingly into the easy repose the deep tissue stimulation lulled him into.

  “Any plans this weekend?” Martin’s voice sounded distant, as if he were speaking to Bryan from a great distance. Bryan focused on his voice again, attempting to remain conscious enough to carry on the conversation.

  “Nah, just gonna hang in my apartment.”

  “Isn’t that what you did last weekend?” Martin’s fingers continued to press into Bryan’s flesh, keeping him from tensing up again.

  Bryan blew out a long breath. He knew exactly how pitiful his life was, he was living it. Martin’s reminder that Bryan didn’t have shit going on in his life since Justice decided their marriage wasn’t worth fighting for chilled him from the inside.

  Justice had maintained radio silence since he’d demanded a divorce. He’d come by their apartment once or twice a week to check on Bryan’s progress, but he spent most of his time at his familial home.

  Every time he laid eyes on Justice, Bryan wanted to beg him for another chance. But his sister-in-law told him not to. It went against everything inside of him, but he held back and listened to True anyway. Why? Leaning to his own understanding is what landed him in the fuck-awful place he and Justice were currently residing in. At this point anyone else’s advice had to be better than wallowing in this pit of love hell.

  “Come on man, you can’t just work yourself like crazy in here with me, and then hide in your house all weekend, every weekend. Why aren’t you getting out more?”

  Bryan turned Martin’s question over in his head. The answer was simple. He didn’t want to be anywhere without his husband.

  “I’m going through a divorce right now. It hasn’t put me in the best of moods.”

  “Listen, I’ve been there man. I know what it’s like to be in the middle of losing the one you love. If you keep sitting locked up in the apartment you’re gonna wind up eating your gun after a while. There’s a new action flick playing at Linden, we can go there, then walk down the block for a couple of beers at the diner.”

  His self-imposed solitude probably wasn’t the best thing for him right now. No, he wasn’t at the point where the despair was so bad he felt suicide was the only way out, but who knew what dark places his mind would travel to if he didn’t switch things up sooner or later.

  Still, this just didn’t feel right. His solitude was a blessing right now, he wasn’t ready to step outside and deal with the rest of the world while he grieved.

  Bryan opened his eyes to meet the compassionate stare Martin offered him. He placed a hand over Martin’s, stilling it from its kneading motion.

  “Martin, I—”

  “I’m certain this isn’t what the medical community would consider an appropriate way to anticipate and execute your patient’s needs.”

  Bryan looked up at Martin and realized Martin hadn’t been the one to speak. He turned his head to the doorway to find Justice walking into the room. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the table but still remaining seated on the table.

  “I’m sure there’s a meaning somewhere in there, but I didn’t catch it, Mr. Amare,” Martin responded with a practiced patience Bryan was certain had to come from years of being a healthcare professional.

  “That’s Colonel Amare,” Justice’s rough growl resonated throughout the room without courtesy or preamble. “And since you seem to have a problem comprehending, let me make it plain for you. Is it standard practice for you to try seduction as a means of therapy? Every time I see you, your hands are all over my husband. Now I come in and you’re in the middle of asking him on a date.”

  Bryan’s head snapped back at that one.

  Wait, when the hell did I get asked on a date? Where was I when that shit happened?

  “Justice, you’re completely misunderstanding this,” Bryan interrupted.

  “Bryan, I didn’t misunderstand shit,” Justice countered.

  “Justice, Martin and I—“

  “Bryan, as far as I understand it, the two of you are getting a divorce. You don’t really owe him an explanation about anything,” Martin offered.

  Hands fisted at his side, nostrils flaring, Justice took a step forward. Bryan hopped off the table and stood in front of his husband, blocking his path to Martin.

  “You know like I know…you’d mind your damn business when it came to me and mine,” Justice’s anger was on boil, threatening to tip over and spill out of every orifice or pore he possessed.

  “Is he yours? Last I’d heard you threw him away.”

  Justice pressed forward again and Bryan had to land solid hands flat against his chest to keep him from advancing.

  “Enough. The two of you cut it out now,” Bryan interrupted as he looked over his shoulder to Martin. “Please excuse us for just a moment. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Martin took a moment to assess the situation before he nodded and made his way through the door.

  “What the hell is your problem?” Bryan rounded on him in a quick, aggressive turn. “You come in here lobbing accusations at both Martin and me? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Bryan, that man is not worried about your training. He’s worried about getting a piece of your ass.”

  Bryan ran a harsh hand over his short cropped hair. “No, he’s not. He’s actually been pretty awesome at helping me get back to baseline. He’s certainly done more than you have at this point.”

  “Bryan,” Justice sighed his name. The sound reverent, like a whispered prayer on his husband’s lips was always enough to still the storms of life inside of him. But tonight, it just pissed Bryan off.

  “Don’t come in here with that, Justice. To date you haven’t done dick to help me get back to where I was before that bullet entered my chest. Martin has. If letting him fuck me is the price I have to pay for him doing that, then that is my decision and mine alone to make. You don’t get to say shit about it. You wanted a divorce, now deal with all that comes with it,” Bryan’s annoyance rattled through his bones, surprising even him at just how aggravated he was with Justice. “Including the knowledge that after twenty-one years together, that I’ll be taking another man to my bed.”

  Bryan pushed past Justice and headed for the door. That beer Martin offered was sounding pretty good right about now.

  Chapter 9

  Bryan sat at the bar, letting the burn of the whiskey shot he’d just swallowed spread through him. After his fight with Justice, Martin suggested they get a drink first before they sat through the movie.

  “You all right, man?’

  Bryan blinked a few times to bring Martin into focus, hoping clearer vision would somehow improve his hearing.

  “I will be as soon as I get another one of these in me,’ he responded as he dangled the empty shot glass between his fingers.

  “I’m sorry I caused that dust up back there.” A palpable blanket of remorse rested on Martin’s shoulders. The way he was slumped over the bar’s edge and slowly drinking his whiskey painted a sorrowful picture.

  Bryan waved his hand. “Wasn’t your fault my soon-to-be ex is an asshole. He thinks you’re just trying to fuck me. Was he right? Are you just looking for a quick fuck? If you are, you should know I’m not the best candidate for that sort of thing right now.”

  Martin laughed a bit before shaking his head. “I wasn’t hitting on you, Bryan.

  Bryan lifted a brow in surprise. “Then why did you agree to True’s plan?”

  “Because she’s a good friend of mine and because anyone looking at you and Justice can see how much love there is between you. If someone had done something like this for me, maybe my wife and I might still be together.”
<
br />   “So you’re really cool with being in the middle of my dramatic gay love story?”

  “Dramatic, a little, but as for the gay part, I don’t think these kinds of emotions are only present in a gay relationship.”

  “That’s mighty enlightened of you.” Bryan cocked his head as he watched his companion. Herrera’s thoughtful eyes screamed of sincerity, as if coaxing Bryan to trust him. If only more people in the world understood that love was love, and it didn’t really matter who was doing the loving.

  “I don’t know about enlightened. I just know after spending the last twenty years of my life seeing how war breaks people psychologically and physically, I know there’s a lot more shit in the world to worry about, to get upset about, than who you’re fucking.”

  Bryan nodded his agreement. Too bad the rest of the world couldn’t or wouldn’t see it that way.

  “Can I ask you a question?” With a nod from Bryan, Martin continued. “What led you here, to this place where your husband is asking you for a divorce?”

  “A lot of bad shit that neither of us could have anticipated when we married,” Bryan answered. “I don’t come from the most progressive family. I grew up in a small conservative town in the South where most share the same mindset. In their eyes, who I am, who I love is wrong.”

  “But you got out, found Justice?” Martin asked.

  “Barely,” Bryan replied. “My parents discovered I was gay when they walked in on my seventeen-year-old self getting his first blow job. My father beat me until I passed out. The next day he shipped me off to the Marines. That’s where I met Justice.”

  “It wasn’t easy, but I learned—with Justice’s help—that there’s nothing wrong with who and what I am.”

  Martin watched him carefully, nodding his head, hedging him to continue on with his explanation.

  “It took a long time for me to learn to love who I am. But the problem is, I’m not out at work. My boss knows because she happens to be related to my husband. But the rest of the department has no idea. When I was shot and Justice had to be there making the decisions, it put him in a very tough spot of trying to take care of me, while maintaining my secret.”

  “After all that, you don’t think your fellow cops know?” Martin’s question was valid. It was something he would have been concerned about himself if it weren’t for Heart.

  “My captain is my rock. She hand-picked the officers who investigated my shooting, as well as the ones that guarded my door. They were all sympathizers or members of my community that would guard my privacy as well as they did their own.”

  The bartender handed them their second round of drinks. After a brief clinking of glasses, the two men downed the shots and continued their conversation.

  “That whole ordeal wore on Justice more than I understood. It was his breaking point.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t seem like enough to end a nearly two-decade relationship. What really happened, I mean before your shooting?”

  Bryan slumped against the bar. He’d only known this man for a short time and already he was calling Bryan’s bullshit. A chill settled in Bryan’s bones. The lock he kept fixed to the door of these memories never turned at all if Bryan could help it. Remembering always made the hurt surface. Five years and he still wasn’t over it like everyone believed he should be.

  “We lost our daughter in-utero. Some strange recessive trait I passed off to her,” Bryan murmured by way of explanation. “One day we were happy, expectant fathers. The next, she was gone.”

  Martin was quiet for a moment. From the corner of his eye, Bryan could see his bar-mate lift his hand to the bartender and hold up two fingers.

  “I don’t even have words for that. Losing a kid is something that can shake the strongest of couples.”

  “It didn’t just shake us, it hurt us. What decimated us was my guilt. I couldn’t get beyond it, still having a hard time. It ate at us, poisoned my decision-making process until the only solution I could come up with to fix things was to leave my husband. We’ve been struggling back and forth for the last five years attempting to put ourselves back together. All this time it’s been Jussy trying to patch us up, but after seeing the song and dance my life has become, I guess he figured it just wasn’t worth loving me any longer.”

  Martin placed a friendly hand on Bryan’s shoulder. “I don’t know your man very well, but if he possesses even half the smarts his sister does, he knows how lucky he is to have loved you. If he could’ve gotten his hands on me tonight, I might not be drinking my liquor so well. He was only that mad because he cares. All isn’t lost just yet.”

  The bartender sat their third round in front of them. Martin picked them up, carefully handing one to Bryan.

  “Let’s finish this, we’ve got to get back to the theatre to get good seats,” Martin offered.

  They clinked their glasses again and swallowed their liquor in one synchronous gulp. Bryan still didn’t feel great, but Martin’s words had given him just enough hope to not lose himself completely in what remained of the fifth of whiskey shelved behind the bar. That had to be a win, right?

  Chapter 10

  As soon as he heard the lock turn from the outside, Justice was on his feet and heading in the direction of the door.

  “It’s two o’ clock in the fucking morning and you’re just dragging your ass in here now?”

  Justice watched glass-like eyes squint as they attempted to focus on him. He pulled Bryan by his collar, bringing him close enough to soak up the intoxicating scent of Bryan’s natural man-spice aroma mixed with liquor.

  “You went drinking with him?”

  Bryan’s eyes focused on him a split second before he pulled out of Justice’s grasp. “Yeah, we had a few then went to see a movie. What of it?”

  “You drove in your condition?”

  “Nearly dying makes you a little gun-shy about doing shit that can kill you. Linden is around the corner. I parked my car before we hit the bar and I walked home. Herrera took a cab.” Bryan pushed past him and headed for the bathroom. He opened his pants and pulled out his long cock before positioning himself in front of the toilet.

  “A little privacy?” Bryan quipped.

  “Not anything I haven’t seen before.” Justice wedged his shoulder against the doorframe as he watched Bryan. He had to admit, watching Bryan take a piss wasn’t on his ‘Things that turn me on list’, but he wasn’t about to give Bryan an inch of privacy until he knew every fucking detail of the evening Bryan spent with that bastard Herrera.

  Bryan shrugged his shoulders, oblivious to or unconcerned with Justice’s building anger, and relieved himself without further thought. When he was done, he washed his hands then turned the shower on and adjusted the spray.

  As he began to remove his clothing he stopped to look at Justice. “I’ve had a long day. I’m gonna take a shower and take my ass to bed. You wanna fight? You’ll be fighting alone tonight.”

  Without giving Justice another glance or thought, Bryan stepped inside of the darkened shower stall.

  Justice stood in the middle of the floor waiting, for what he couldn’t really pinpoint. Acknowledgement, an explanation, contrition, or something from Bryan that expressed some form of regret that he’d done something to piss Justice off. Instead, Bryan's slightly drunk ass—if his whistling of some pop tune was any indication of his intoxication level—continued on behind the smoky shower glass as if Justice weren’t even in the room.

  Bryan finished his shower, pulled a towel from the nearby rack and tied it around his waist. He stepped around Justice, and headed for their bedroom. Justice tried hard not to stare at Bryan’s water-slicked skin. Bryan at any given time was a turn-on for him. Bryan naked and wet, looking like something Justice should be licking or sopping up with a biscuit, had a way of making him forget his train of thought.

  Justice knew he was supposed to be mad about something. Watching his man saunter in front of him, shoulders pulled back in confidence, the globes of his ass
sitting high and tight, what a vision. Justice could scarcely remember what he’d eaten for dinner, let alone the complicated trigger to his inner-asshole.

  He palmed the hard bulge of his jean-clad cock and closed his eyes, trying his damnedest to remain focused on anything other than being buried in Bryan’s ass. After a few moments of fighting with his mind and body, he walked into their bedroom. Bryan was still in his towel, sitting at the edge of the foot of the bed.

  “Bryan, I can’t believe you’re really going to let this asshole fuck with your recovery like this. You fucking know better. All this jack-off is after is getting a piece of ass.”

  “So what if he is?” Bryan’s response striking a fast and fierce blow to Justice’s heart. “So what if the only thing he wants from me is a good, hard fuck? Why the fuck does that matter to you? Why do you get a say in that? You just filed divorce papers. Obviously you don’t care about who fucks me or who I fuck.”

  Molten heat carved through the walls of his chest, into the center of his heart. The gripping pain caused his breath to rush past his lips.

  “I will always care about you, Bryan. About everything you do,” he whispered.

  Bryan’s flat palms rested against his spread thighs, holding his heavy shoulders up as they threatened to slump in defeat.

  “You don’t act like it. You act like you don’t want anything to do with me. Like you hate me.” Bryan flinched as he spoke. As if the thought of Justice hating him physically hurt.

  Justice averted his eyes. He knew if he found the same sadness in Bryan’s eyes as he heard in his words, he was going to crumble right where he stood.

  “I’ve never lived in the closet, Bryan. I’ve been out since I knew what gay meant. I married you knowing that you weren’t comfortable with your sexuality. That was my fault. I shouldn’t have fought you over the divorce when you asked me for it. I should have seen the writing on the wall then. I loved you so much. I couldn’t bear to think of walking away.”