A Fluid State

by Rob Browatzke

  “Remember the other night when you showed up at my place drunk?”

  “Barely, but yes?”

  “I’m in the yard.”

  “What? Now? My yard?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re crazy. I’ll come down.”

  Patrick hopped out of bed and scurried down the hall as quietly as he could. He flipped on the deck light, and there was Andrew, standing sheepishly in the dark. Patrick slid open the patio door.

  “Come in. What are you doing?”

  Andrew stumbled in. “Nice sweats,” he said.

  Patrick looked down. “They’re just sweats.”

  “So clueless,” Andrew said. “Gray sweatpants are like ugh, you don’t even know. VPL and BDE and everything.”

  “I have zero idea what you just said.”

  “I’ll show you,” Andrew said, his hands grabbing onto the waistband of Patrick’s pants.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Patrick said, disengaging himself and stepping back. “Peter’s upstairs and you’re really drunk.”

  “Shit, Patrick, I’m sorry. It’s just...”

  “Just what?”

  “Can we sit down and talk?”

  “Sure.”

  Andrew grabbed hold of chair and wavered a bit. Patrick readied himself to catch him.

  “Actually,” Andrew said, “can we lie down and talk? Your kitchen is moving.”

  Patrick wanted to be mad, or at least annoyed, but really, Andrew was no drunker tonight than Patrick had been Sunday.”Sure,” he said.

  Andrew spun around and headed down the hall to Patrick’s bedroom. Patrick turned off the lights and locked the door and followed him down, only to find him already lying on the bed. “So what’s going on, drunky?”

  “They’re right, you know.”

  “Who?”

  “My friends.”

  “What about?”

  “Us.”

  “What did they say about us?”

  “That I’m going to get hurt. That there’s no way I don’t get hurt. The gay guy always gets hurt.”

  “Is that what your friends said?” Patrick sat down on the bed next to Andrew. “Now listen here. I don’t know where this came from, and I don’t know where it’s going, but I’ll do everything in my power not to hurt you. I’m not a bad guy.”

  “I know.”

  “So don’t listen to your friends.”

  “I don’t. They’re dumb.” Andrew rolled onto his side. “Cuz I kinda love you.”

  Patrick’s mouth dropped. He didn’t know what to say, and it didn’t seem to matter because Andrew was suddenly snoring softly.

  ANDREW

  When he woke up, not in his own bed, it all came flooding back. Most if it anyway. There were some blurry spots, but the fact he’d gotten shit-faced drunk on a Wednesday and showed up at Patrick’s in the middle of the night? That much he remembered.

  They hadn’t had sex. He also remembered that. He didn’t even know if Patrick had slept in the bed. He had woken up alone anyway.

  He stuck his head out the bedroom door and checked about. He could hear the sounds of the television down the hall, recognizing the telltale sounds of Ru on the runway. Peter was over. Andrew had showed up, hammered like that, when Peter was over.

  (Shit)

  He sheepishly walked into the living room. Patrick and Peter were on the couch.

  “Andrew!” Peter said, excited. His excitement underscored the fact that Patrick was making a point of not looking his way.

  “Hey.” What else could he say really?

  Without looking at Andrew, Patrick stood up and walked out of the room. Which involved passing right by Andrew, but he still wouldn’t look at him. Things were blurry, but Andrew hadn’t done anything that bad, had he?

  (Other than potentially outing him to his son?)

  Andrew did an about face and followed Patrick into the kitchen. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Patrick had his back to him, cleaning up breakfast dishes. “There’s coffee,” he finally said.

  “I said I’m sorry.”

  “I know. There’s coffee.” Patrick stuck his hand out, holding a mug. Andrew took it. Their fingers touched briefly. Patrick pulled away. Andrew poured a mug.

  “You’re pissed.”

  “You think?”

  “I guess we’re even?” Andrew said, trying to turn it into a joke. “I mean, you showed up drunk first.?”

  “I know that too. Are we keeping score?”

  “No, but it’s still good to be tied in embarrassing escapades.”

  “How much of last night do you remember?”

  “All of it, I think.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  “Oh God. What did I do?”

  “You didn’t do anything really. You basically just passed out.”

  “Did Peter...?”

  “I slept on the couch. Peter doesn’t know anything.”

  “Good. I mean, I know you almost told him, but...”

  “It’s not about Peter,” Patrick said. “You really don’t remember what you said, hey?”

  Andrew looked at Patrick, and the missing piece fell into place. The look on Patrick’s face made it obvious. “Oh God.”

  “Yah.”

  “Look, I was really drunk.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean, I didn’t mean it. Obviously. It’s way too soon and...”

  Patrick’s serious face suddenly melted into a smile. “I know you didn’t mean it. I’m mostly just fucking with you.”

  Andrew’s mouth dropped. “What...? Really? Why you...”

  Patrick shrugged. “I figured it was fair payback for waking me up and making me sleep on the couch. Besides,” he went on, “who wouldn’t love me?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Poor wittle Andrew, all in wuv with me.”

  “Patrick, I swear to God...”

  “Whatcha gonna do, huh?”

  Andrew took a step closer. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” The air was sizzling all around them.

  “Maybe I would,” Patrick said. “Maybe I wouldn’t.”

  Andrew placed his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “So we good?”

  “We’re good.” Patrick ran his knuckles down Andrew’s chest. “More than good.”

  “Dad? Are you guys coming to watch?”

  At the sound of Peter’s voice, Patrick jumped, pushing Andrew back. “Shit, sorry,” Patrick said. “I didn’t mean...”

  “It’s good,” Andrew said. “We’re good.” Even so, he couldn’t help but think that was a pretty clear indicator that Patrick wasn’t ready to take this to the next level. His heart fell a bit.

  “We’re coming,” Patrick said. “Just getting Andrew some breakfast.”

  “I’m glad you slept over,” Peter yelled. “Are you going to hang out with us today?”

  “I don’t think he can,” Patrick shouted back. “Andrew’s on downtime.” Patrick grinned, and Andrew couldn’t help but grin back, even as he punched Patrick’s shoulder.

  “I can hang out. Ignore your dad. He’s just an idiot.”

  “Cool. Come watch! They’re gonna lip sync now!”

  Andrew smiled. “You must have seen so much Drag Race, hey?”

  “You have no idea. I got him out shopping for a bit. Tried to get him to go to the zoo or something to enjoy the last days of vacation but no luck.”

  Andrew pursed his lips. “Hmmm, I think I can get him out.”

  “Good luck,” Patrick said. “Now he has that phone, his outside days are over.”

  “Just watch me.”

  They went back out to the living room and joined Peter on the couch. “So I found something out last night,” he said.

  “Oh?” Peter didn’t even look away from the TV.

  “Bob’s coming to town.”

  Peter scrambled to his feet. “What? Really?”

  “In a month. Tickets are going on sale soon.”

  Peter’s smile
faded. “But I’m too young, right?”

  “Normally, yes. But this is a theatre show.” He paused. “All ages.”

  “Dad! Can we go?””

  “Well, maybe, I guess,” Patrick said. “When is this, Andrew?”

  “Four weeks from Friday.”

  “So not a school night?” Peter said. “Please, Dad? I’ll do anything.”

  Realization dawned on Patrick’s face. “Well, let’s go do something outside today and talk about it.”

  “But...”

  “Peter.”

  “Okay fine.” He turned off Netflix. “I’ll go get dressed.”

  After he left the room, Patrick turned to Andrew. “Bribery?”

  Andrew shrugged. “Why not? It works.”

  “What if I’d said no?”

  “You wouldn’t. Besides, Christy loves her too, so this way, you get to be the hero.”

  “You’re good.”

  “You know it.”

  “I really do.” Patrick reached over and put his hand over Andrew’s. “You’ll be coming too, of course?”

  “I’ll be performing beforehand.”

  “I hope not with that sex toy number.” The playful look in his eye made it clear he was kidding.

  “You don’t think that’s a good choice?”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Well, if you don’t think it is, I guess I could find something else to do.” He stood up. “I guess I should head home and let you guys get on with your day.”

  “Oh no,” Patrick said. “You’re coming with us.”

  Andrew groaned. “But the hangover!”

  It was Patrick’s turn to shrug. “Too bad. Besides, it’s just the zoo. You’ll be fine.”

  PATRICK

  The Tulgey Valley Zoo was a wonderful place. Peter had loved it as a kid. Patrick and Christy had taken him there all the time, and Patrick had fond memories of it. It had been a long time since they’d gone though, and Patrick found himself fondly reminiscing on the drive there.

  He’d need to talk to Christy. Whatever was going on with Andrew wasn’t going away. When Andrew had shown up last night, Patrick had been mad, but that anger quickly faded. He’d done the same thing to Andrew, after all. They were both clearly feeling feelings other than horniness, and alcohol made those feelings float to the surface.

  Was he ready to come out? And come out as what? He had genuinely loved Christy and the sex had been genuinely good, so he was what? Bi? It was just Andrew. What was it about him?

  As he drove, Patrick glanced over at Andrew, who was twisted around in the passenger seat talking to Peter about, what else, Drag Race. They were great together. Even the way Andrew had assessed the situation this morning had been perfect. Patrick got Peter out of the house and away from the TV, Peter got tickets to his drag event, and, best of all, they got to spend the day together.

  The three of them.

  Maybe today, he’d tell Peter that Andrew was more than just a friend. He didn’t know what he was exactly. But more than a friend was certainly true. Boyfriend sounded so juvenile though. High school girls had boyfriends, so could he actually refer to another man as a boyfriend? Man friend? What did the gays say? Partner?

  That sucked too. Labels were hard. Did it matter though? What Patrick was? What Patrick and Andrew were? He was just himself and Andrew was just...

  Just the guy he loved.

  Andrew had meant it when he drunkenly slurred it, and Patrick felt it too. Somehow, over the last weeks, he’d fallen in love with this incredible human being next to him. He loved every part of him, not just the incredible sex, but the sassy humor, and the way he was with Peter, and...

  “Isn’t that the turn?” Andrew said.

  Patrick snapped back to the road, jerked the wheel, and careened across the empty lane to catch the exit.

  “Nice driving,” Andrew said, his face wearing that smirk it wore when he was giving Patrick a hard time. “When was the last time you were here?”Andrew asked Peter.

  “Years,” he said. “Zoos are kind of for kids.”

  “You’ll have a good time,” Patrick said. “Trust me.”

  There was probably a reason Peter didn’t like this place, come to think of it, Patrick thought, as he pulled into the parking lot. The last time Peter had been here? He’d been seven, and it was here that Patrick and Christy had brought him to say they were splitting up. Patrick hadn’t thought about that day forever.

  Peter hadn’t seemed to care. He was far more concerned about the monkeys. It wasn’t until they got home and were having supper that night that he’d randomly started crying. Maybe it was good he didn’t seem to remember it. Maybe this whole idea was stupid. There were so many places they could’ve gone, why had Patrick insisted on it being here?

  “What do you want to see first?” Andrew asked Peter, as they walked across the lot. Peter shrugged. “I’ve always been about the big cats. Do they have any here?”

  “Probably.”

  “Peter,” Patrick said, inserting a warning tone in his voice. “Try to have fun, okay, champ? Summer’s almost done, and then I’ll only have you on weekends. I just want this to be memorable.”

  “Can I at least use my phone to take pictures?” he asked.

  “Sure. But no apps, ok?”

  They got to the gate and Andrew paid before Patrick had a chance. “My way of apologizing,” he said, as he slid his card to the teller.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I know.”

  Andrew handed Peter the map. “You can pick our route, okay? Where should we start?”

  Peter unfolded the map and looked at it. “Monkeys.”

  Patrick smiled. Peter might be some moody pre-teen experimenting with his looks, but he was still Patrick’s boy underneath it all.

  “Good choice,” he said, ruffling Peter’s hair as best he could. “Lead the way.”

  The star of the Monkey House was a white-handed gibbon named Julia. In her enclosure, she swung around from rope to rope. Occasionally, she would stop and look through the glass at them, then go back to her acrobatics.

  “Do you think she knows we’re watching?” Patrick asked.

  “With those moves? Oh yes,” Andrew said. “Right, Peter?”

  “Probably.”

  “Oh come on, it’s like she’s performing for us. Maybe she’ll do a death drop?”

  Peter laughed and pulled out his phone to record a video. “Yaaasss monkey realness!” he announced, as he followed Julia as she climbed up into the corner and dramatically lay down.

  “Pretty close, hey?” Patrick said.

  “Shantay you stay,” Andrew said, getting another laugh from Peter. Again, Patrick couldn’t help but think how incredible it was Andrew had come along for this. Not just this day at the zoo, but this summer in their lives. How would Patrick have possibly reacted or related to the changes in Peter without him?

  After the monkey house, they went to see the big cats for Andrew. They were probably Patrick’s favorite too, especially the lion, lounging about in the sun, occasionally letting out a great big yawn.

  “All the better to eat you with, right?” Andrew joked to Peter, with a sly look at Patrick.

  “That’s a wolf,” Peter said, rolling his eyes.

  “Yah, Andrew,” Patrick said, feeling his cheeks flush. He couldn’t wait until Andrew ate him again. “Where to now?” he asked.

  “Let’s go see the giraffe. It says we can feed him.”

  “Sounds good, champ.”

  Peter led the way. Keeping an eye on him, Patrick and Andrew fell behind a bit. “Why champ?” Andrew asked.

  “I’ve just always called him that. Do you think it bothers him?”

  “He would tell you.”

  “He certainly doesn’t hold much back.”

  “That he doesn’t.”

  “Thanks again for bribing him to come.”

  “I know how much it means to you, to have this time with him.” Andrew paused. �
��How long are you off duty?”

  “Mid-September,” Patrick said. “It crept up on me.”

  “Oh.”

  “Just local though,” he went on. “Nothing overseas coming up.”

  “Oh.” Andrew smiled. “Good.”

  “Were you gonna miss me?”

  “You know I would. It can’t be easy, being with someone in the military.”

  “For sure. But it’s mostly local.”

  “Was it hard for Christy?”

  “Yes, but she knew what it means to me.”

  “Can’t barbecue for a living, I guess,” Andrew said with a smile, a smile that showed Patrick Andrew knew what it meant to.

  There was only a couple years left though, and then would he sign up for another twelve? What else would he do?

  “Fucking sissy.”

  The words echoed . Patrick looked ahead, saw Peter standing there, another boy in front of him. He ran.

  “Get away from him!”

  Patrick stepped in between them. “Is this the kid who pushed you?”

  “Dad, it’s fine.”

  “Yah dad,” the other kid said mockingly. “Just talking to your daughter.”

  Patrick was blindly reaching out for the kid when Andrew grabbed him. “Patrick!”

  “But...”

  “Patrick!”

  The kid sneered, but still took a step back.

  “Tommy! What’s going on here?”

  Patrick looked away from the little piece of shit kid he wanted to strangle and focussed instead on the man approaching, the same dark hair as Tommy. “Are you Tommy’s dad?”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Peter’s dad. Your son has been harassing mine.”

  The man looked Peter up and down, then assessed Patrick. “I’m sure it’s just boys being boys.” On the second ‘boys’, he paused, glancing again at Peter. It was clear where Tommy got it from.

  “Look. He broke my son’s arm.”

  “I did not!” Tommy said.

  “Peter, tell Tommy’s dad...”

  “Dad, let’s just go.”

  “My son wouldn’t have done that,” the man said. “I’m sure whatever he told you, you misunderstood.” Again, a hesitation around the pronoun made his derision clear. Patrick felt the blood pounding behind his eyes, and then felt Andrew’s hand on his shoulder.

  “Patrick, let’s just go somewhere else. We can come back to the giraffe later, right, Peter?”