“I’ll be better out of here.”
I suddenly get the impression that he needs a public space to hide behind. Something public isn’t private and in public, things are different. Even between the two of us. Looking back on it, his attitude and personality in public are that of a straight man, a man who has a mountain of secrets to hide behind. I shrug off the thoughts that start rattling around in my brain, thoughts that I don’t want to venture into, not now at least. I can only imagine that his time in the institution still plays on him more in public than in private, and while I am anxious to wipe that away too, I know his public image will not be easily swayed. What happens in public, between him and I, will turn to friendship the moment we walk out those doors.
I should be scared of that, bothered by it, but I actually find it oddly comforting and I don’t fully understand why that is. Maybe it’s because I, myself, have only recently come out to a small handful of people and while that proved easier than I expected it to be, it’s still not all of America. It’s not the public side of Peacock, bassist for 69 Bottles.
SOMEWHERE in our conversation, we decided to take separate cars to dinner. I could see that it would make it a little easier on Calvin, though I can’t say I fully understood why until the end of the night when we parted ways. He returned to his apartment and I returned to mine.
Dinner was great, just like old times. The fun and bantering back and forth took the front seat over the weight of what we’d discussed in the last twenty-four hours. Only once did the topic get brought up and it didn’t come until we were saying our goodnights. He asked if I still planned to see Dr. V in the morning and I didn’t hesitate to tell him yes. He seemed happy about that. I remember thinking it was odd; that he wanted me to go to the one person who likely knew him better than he knows himself, but yet I take great comfort in knowing that he trusts me enough with his secrets to go to the one man who can tell me everything.
Dr. Vincent Rocko, at least that’s what the sign on the door said when I stepped into the plush waiting area. Though void of a receptionist, the sign on the door says that he is in and will be with me shortly. Okay, not me specifically, but yeah, pretty efficient if you ask me.
At ten minutes to ten, the inner office door opens and out comes a young woman with tears streaming down her face, but she thanks the doctor before quickly leaving the reception area through the door I’d come in. I did my best to avoid looking at her. I can only imagine some of the many things that happen behind that door.
“Eric?” I hear a baritone voice coming from inside the room.
“Yes, sir?” I stand and move toward the same doorway that the woman had just exited.
“Can you lock the door for me?”
“Uh, sure,” I say hesitantly and turn on my heel, back toward the door I’d come in and I flip the deadbolt lock closed and return to the doorway.
“Come on in, you can close that door or leave it open. No one will be coming in here today.”
I leave the door open and walk into the even plusher, oversized sitting area that is his therapy room. The room is relatively dark, considering the idea that a therapist is supposed to lift your spirits and not to bring you down. The walls are a dark gray, the furniture a mix of blacks and browns. Everything ranging from a couch, a loveseat, a couple of chairs fill the space and my eyes land on the infamous lounger you see in movies. “Oh, don’t mind that thing. I never use it,” Dr. V says from behind me and I turn to face him.
The man is nearly as tall as I am, skinnier, but none the less intimidating and the furthest thing I expected to see when I met him.
“I’m Dr. Vincent, or Doctor V as Calvin likes to call me. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Eric.” He extends his hand to me and I take it. His grip is firm, yet warm and comforting.
“It’s nice to meet you. Though I wish I could say I knew something about you, I don’t really.” I'm surprisingly very nervous about this meeting.
Dr. V’s warming smile is a comfort I certainly didn’t expect. He gestures toward the couch. “Grab a seat and we’ll get started.” I nod and move to the couch, sitting in the corner, pulling my foot under my thigh and leaning into it. It’s surprisingly comfortable. I watch as he finds his way back to an oversized, very comfortable looking chair and sprawled out in front of him are several manila file folders, patient folders. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk a little bit about you before we dive into Calvin.” He makes a subtle gesture over the folders laid out before him.
“Are those all his?” I swallow hard.
“They are. Not all of them are mine, however. Calvin has a long history in therapy and he and I have only been working together for a couple of years. It took me until recently to finally acquire what I believe is his entire history.”
“Including the institution?” I ask.
“Yes,” he nods, “including there.”
I swallow, finding the strength to pull my eyes away from the stack of folders and onto Dr. V as I take a deep breath. “What would you like to know?”
He cocks his head, no doubt something all therapists love to do. “What would you like to tell me?”
I snort. “I've never done this before,” I tell him and it’s the truth.
“Well, why don’t you start with how old you are, where you’re from, about your parents, things like that.”
I launch into surprising detail about being twenty-eight, from Denver and who my parents are, what they do and where they are now. All the while Dr. V listens with rapt attention and scribbles a few notes.
“Tell me, Eric, have you come out to your parents?” he finally asks the elephant question.
“I have,” I tell him.
“How long ago?”
I look up like I’m thinking, counting actually. “About thirteen years ago, when I was fifteen.”
“How did they take it?”
I snort. “My mom knew, probably before I did, my father never denied it or approved it. In fact, I’m pretty sure he didn’t pay attention until I brought home my first guy friend.”
“What happened then?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. My father was always a workaholic. Constantly on the phone, in and out of the house, things like that. My mom and I are much closer, even to this day, and my father is now retired.”
“So you’ve had a much different experience in coming out than Calvin has. How does that make you feel?”
I roll my eyes. “It’s just how it was for me, I don’t know that I can honestly dwell on the differences between us when it comes to coming out, or living a more ‘outed’ lifestyle. Unlike Calvin, I really had nothing to fear.”
He makes a few notes before he steeples his fingers under his chin. “Okay, I am sure you have a million questions about Calvin.”
“My question pool has drained quite a bit over the last twenty-four hours.”
He smiles in approval. “Good. But I imagine as we talk, more questions will be raised. I’d like you to start with one of your more pressing questions.”
That’s too easy. “How do I fix this?”
He smiles, lowers his hands and nods his head. “You can’t fix it.” I know my expression falls. “Only he can make that choice and all you, or even I, can do is support him in that choice.”
“How do I do that exactly?” I ask. I know I can’t fix him, but I want to. I want to be his salvation, but I know I’m going to have to settle for being his reason to overcome his demons.
“That, I’m pretty sure, is the reason why you’re here today.”
“One of them, the other is just to better understand the things that are in his head and what is going on when he panics. I’ve seen it three times now and the first two times I chalked it up to bad timing and too much alcohol, the other was yesterday. Though I’m pretty sure I did that.”
He cocks his head questioningly. “Please explain why you say that?”
“Because I attempted to take control. He’s kissed me now three times si
nce he told me everything, each time it was at his doing. The first time was a very slow process, but he managed through it and it was…” I sigh at the memory, “amazing. The second time he took me by surprise when I opened the door to my apartment. He was so freaked out that something had happened to me, or that I’d shoved him off to the back burner, that he came to my apartment and when he saw me, he pretty much charged at me.” I watch a smile spread over Dr. V’s lips, it’s one of genuine happiness, something I didn’t expect to see with him. “The third time, he’d followed me into my bedroom so I could throw on a t-shirt and things got heated pretty quick, not to mention the fact that we were in my bedroom. I told him that he was pushing the limits of my control and that was when he locked up.”
“You seem to have a theory behind why you caused that. Can you explain that to me?”
“That depends on whether or not you’re going to tell me if I’m right or wrong?”
“Perhaps,” he states simply.
“It’s easier when he’s in control. He can take the lead, control the situation, stop it from escalating too far to the point that he’ll get hurt.”
“You’re right.” He is very matter of fact with his answer. “Calvin has been raped, multiple times, more times than either one of us want to try to count or analyze, so for him, it is easier when he knows he has control of the situation. It’s not dominance or posturing by any means, it is just the way he knows how to feel comfortable in the situation. It’s how he is going to have to work through the numerous things that are going through his head when it comes to you, or any man for that matter.” The idea of Calvin being with another man sends a shiver of disappointment through me. “He needs to be able to trust you, fully, before he will be able to turn himself over to you completely. I’m sure that if you take a look at the relationships he’s had with females or his sexual exploits with them, they were easier because he could take control of the situation easier. When it comes to men, the only thing he knows anymore is what it’s like to be controlled. Giving yourself over to his control is the easiest way for him to work through his side of this. Once he starts to see that what the two of you potentially have is completely different than anything he’s ever known, things will start to shift inside of him. He’ll start letting go of the darkness that grabs hold of him.”
I ponder what Dr. V is saying, and it falls right along with my earlier theory, a theory about how he needs to feel in control in order to find his ability to trust me. “I can give that to him,” I say softly, but there is a deep conviction in my words that I start to feel as soon as they’re out of my mouth.
“Good.”
“WHAT’S up, T?”
“Nada, just calling to invite you over for dinner tonight, and to see if you’ve talked to Eric or Dex since we got home?”
“Dinner? Tonight?”
“Yeah, Addison’s cooking, wanted to see if everyone wanted to get together.”
“I don’t know, Talon, today’s been kind of a rough day.”
“How so?” he asks, and I knew he would.
“Long story. Let me get back to you on that. Eric? No, I haven't seen him today yet, but I did see him last night.”
“Oh?” He does a bad job of hiding the shock from his voice. “How’s that going?” he asks the obvious.
“Ahh, it’s going…I think.”
I’m interrupted by a knock at my door.
“You think?”
“Hey, can I call you back? Someone’s here.”
“No, have you heard from Dex?”
I roll my eyes as I make my way from the bedroom toward the door. “Nope, I’m pretty sure he’s locked himself up with Raine by now. I don’t imagine we’ll see him until we board next week.”
“Yeah, alright, I’ll text you the address.”
I open the door and standing beyond it is Eric and my heart warms when a genuine smile spreads across his face. “Actually, how about a rain check? Tomorrow night instead?” I ask.
“Yeah, alright. Whatever.”
“Really? You gonna fucking whine?”
“Shut up, no, I…Addie’s kind of excited to have everyone over.”
I shake my head, the dude is seriously whipped. “Eric, you want to have dinner at Addison’s tonight?” I ask and I hear grumbles from Talon through the phone.
“You coulda just told me he was there, fucker.”
“He just got here, he was at my door.”
“Oh…oh, well, fuck. Dinner’s at eight, come over around seven?”
“Why so we can all sit around while Addison busts her ass?”
He snorts a laugh. “Alright, fine, seven-thirty, no later.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I laugh into the phone and he hangs up.
I hold the door wider for Eric to come in. “I guess we don’t have a choice,” I tell him and he laughs. My phone chimes with a text. It’s Talon giving me Addison’s address. I roll my eyes and stow my phone. The urge to kiss him is making my lips twitch. I want to so bad, but I’m not sure how to react to a; his being here and b; the fact that he’s here much later than I thought he would be.
“Dinner with them sounds fun,” he says and I close the door. A big fat pink fucking elephant has taken up residence in ninety percent of my apartment as we just stare at each other.
“So…” I say with deep hesitation.
“So…” he counters and I want to sock him in the shoulder, something we’ve always done whenever neither one of us says anything, but I resist the urge, unable to take the chance that he’s on edge.
“Can I take you being here as a good sign?”
He smiles at me. “If you thought Dr. V was going to scare me away from you, you had the wrong idea. If you were hoping he would, well, I don’t know what to say about that.” His voice is confident at first then dips into shy uncertainty.
“I want to kiss you.” The words are out before I can stop them, before I can stop myself from the admission of what I want from him.
“Nothing is stopping you, Cal.”
I rush at him, throwing my arms around him and pulling his lips down to mine. He gently, slowly wraps his arms around me, holding me to him as our lips dance. I lick at his bottom lip which puckers for me and I nip it between my teeth and his breathing spikes and his arms tighten around me. I slide my tongue in along his, my head swims, lost to his warmth and the overwhelming sensation of finally having him back in my arms.
His arms loosen and his hands slide up along my back, sending a thrill through me. Sending desire through every inch of my body. I feel his cock stiffen against me and I respond the same. “Fuck,” I growl before claiming his mouth with more gusto, more finesse, more desperation than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. Not with Billy, not with any of the other guys, and certainly not with women.
Eric’s hands slide in under my t-shirt as my tongue dances with his. I run my hand into his hair and fist it. Pulling him into me tighter, hotter and harder. Letting go and losing myself in his warmth, his closeness and nothing else matters, but I start to pull back. Not for a lack of want, but for the uncertainty of what might happen if this keeps up. I know I’m not ready for that.
“Everything that happens is entirely up to you,” he tells me through his heavy breathing. “I will not push you to do anything, this is your ship, you’re driving it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as I pull back from him. I’m not angry, just confused.
“I think we both need to settle down a little before we can talk,” he tells me as he slowly untangles his limbs from me. His hands sliding down my back cause me to shiver and that desire from a moment ago reignites.
“I’m alright. I swear,” I tell him. It’s true. “Each time I kiss you, I get pulled further into you, pulled further away from everything else.”
“Good. That’s what I hope to hear every day, but I realized something yesterday, after what happened in my bedroom.”
“Oh?” I pull back from him a step. He doesn’t flinch to
let me go, he knows that space is good, that I need some, though I’m not angry, I’m curious.
“Well,” he starts to pace away from me, “Things were good, hot and heavy, until I told you I was beyond the point of maintaining control.”
“I know.” I cross my arms over my chest, widening my stance, taking a defensive posture and he scowls at me.
“But what I think triggered you was that you felt like you were losing control of the situation. Somewhere in your mind, you thought that my losing control was going to be something that was going to get you hurt.”
His words slide over me like black tar, killing my buzz from kissing him in an instant, the same thing that happened yesterday. The feeling is normal when I’m about to panic, when my libido is wiped clean. “I know you’d never hurt me.”
He gives me a small smile from across the room. “You know that, in your heart, but what’s in your mind is telling you something different, and Calvin?”
“Yeah?”
“There is no reason your mind should tell you any differently. It’s how you were reprogrammed. Your mind thinks that someone else trying to take control is someone who is going to hurt you, or worse.” I watch as he turns red with worry. “Fuck, I wish I could kill that son of a bitch.” I watch as his hands ball into fists.
“He’s already dead,” I tell him. His eyes snap to mine. “No, Jesus, no, it wasn’t me, but it was certainly someone else who he’d gone after. They just beat me to it,” I tell him and it’s the truth. I don’t remember exactly how I found out about it, but I remember that I did and I remember reading the subsequent information about the trial of the man who’d killed him a couple of years after I’d walked out of that facility. I remember the sense of relief and safety that washed over me at the time.
“Dr. V and I talked about it. A lot of what needs to happen now is on you. I will do my best to stay in control of myself, to let you take over, lead the way. If you think about it, you know that I’m right, that Dr. V is right. So all of the times you’ve kissed me since coming clean, what’s happened?”
Defining Us: The Calvin & Eric Story (69 Bottles) Page 13