would help you with him, and I will. Do what I'm telling you. He needs this. I'll try and get home early if I can. I'd be more comfortable if you didn't go to the pool too."
Brian manoeuvred himself away from his lover again. “Life doesn't stop—"
"His boyfriend raped him. Whatever either of them calls it, that's what happened. Some things can go into a bit of a holding pattern while he deals with that. Besides. You didn't see the bruises. I doubt he'll give you much argument if you suggest staying home and not showing that shit off to the world."
"Okay.” Brian gave him one last kiss, held the door, and handed him his coat. Lil slipped it on over his scrubs. “Have a good shift."
Lil smiled. “I'll be thinking of you, lover."
Brian stood in front of the closed door for a few minutes after Lil left, and I wished I could see his face. I wasn't up to the chat that would happen if he knew I'd overheard their conversation, though, so I closed my eyes long before he turned and kept them closed when he came over to the couch. I almost flinched when he touched my hair, but long practice in holding back my reactions to Carl's touch kept me still.
"I am not letting you go back there,” he whispered.
The blanket moved, pulled up and snugged around my shoulder, and he left. He went back to his room and didn't come out until I shuffled past his half-open door an hour later, on my way to the bathroom.
* * * *
"Coffee?” Brian stood by the kitchen window, his back to the living room as I came back and dressed.
"Sure."
He didn't move. “You want to talk about it?"
"About coffee?” I pulled up an old pair of jeans and started doing up the buttons. “Cream and sugar. Baileys if you've got it."
"We don't.” He turned around, and the colour drained from his cheeks a bit.
I supposed most of the really bad bruises hadn't developed yet when he'd seen me tied to the bed. They had now, layered over older marks. I'd just spent a good ten minutes examining my torso in the bathroom mirror. I knew what he was seeing. And what he wasn't.
"His boyfriend raped him."
I could practically hear the echo of Lil's statement in the air. I wondered if Brian was going to ask. I wondered what I'd tell him.
"I think I'll call the kids,” was all he said. “Cancel swim practice."
I nodded. This wasn't something to try explaining to a bunch of teenage boys.
"We can run relays on Wednesday. Only takes one coach."
"Life doesn't stop,” I said, quiet, not looking at him. I snagged a sweater and pulled it over my head. I don't know if he picked up on the echo of his earlier conversation with Lil. When my head emerged from the collar, he was pouring cream into a cup of coffee.
We spent the next hour feeling around the inner bruises and trying to figure out where the whole mess left us. A lull in conversation stretched tight over something he wanted to ask, but I wasn't sure I wanted to answer, so I shuffled over to the couch when he gathered the mugs and brought them to the sink. I supposed it would be easier for him if I wasn't sitting across from him, watching the way his nerves clenched his fingers into fists he repeatedly had to flatten out onto the tabletop.
"I never would have left you alone with him, Paul. I didn't know he would."
I waited. Seemed that was the end of the sentence, though. “Not your fault,” I said at last. “He wasn't always like that, you know.” I wanted to say he had been like Lil, when we started. Strong, in charge, good to me. But from what I'd seen the past day and a half, Carl was nothing like Lil. Brian wasn't afraid to ask for what he wanted. He'd asked Lil to help me, knowing Lil hated my guts, and he hadn't worried about reprisals. No. Carl was nothing like Lil. I wanted what Brian had. Maybe that's what I'd been looking for. And why I'd hung on so long.
"Bri?” I twisted a bit to look over the back of the couch at him. Brian turned around. “If he comes—"
As if on cue, someone knocked on the
Brian manoeuvred himself away from his lover again. “Life doesn't stop—"
"His boyfriend raped him. Whatever either of them calls it, that's what happened. Some things can go into a bit of a holding pattern while he deals with that. Besides. You didn't see the bruises. I doubt he'll give you much argument if you suggest staying home and not showing that shit off to the world."
"Okay.” Brian gave him one last kiss, held the door, and handed him his coat. Lil slipped it on over his scrubs. “Have a good shift."
Lil smiled. “I'll be thinking of you, lover."
Brian stood in front of the closed door for a few minutes after Lil left, and I wished I could see his face. I wasn't up to the chat that would happen if he knew I'd overheard their conversation, though, so I closed my eyes long before he turned and kept them closed when he came over to the couch. I almost flinched when he touched my hair, but long practice in holding back my reactions to Carl's touch kept me still.
"I am not letting you go back there,” he whispered.
The blanket moved, pulled up and snugged around my shoulder, and he left. He went back to his room and didn't come out until I shuffled past his half-open door an hour later, on my way to the bathroom.
* * * *
"Coffee?” Brian stood by the kitchen window, his back to the living room as I came back and dressed.
"Sure."
He didn't move. “You want to talk about it?"
"About coffee?” I pulled up an old pair of jeans and started doing up the buttons. “Cream and sugar. Baileys if you've got it."
"We don't.” He turned around, and the colour drained from his cheeks a bit.
I supposed most of the really bad bruises hadn't developed yet when he'd seen me tied to the bed. They had now, layered over older marks. I'd just spent a good ten minutes examining my torso in the bathroom mirror. I knew what he was seeing. And what he wasn't.
"His boyfriend raped him."
I could practically hear the echo of Lil's statement in the air. I wondered if Brian was going to ask. I wondered what I'd tell him.
"I think I'll call the kids,” was all he said. “Cancel swim practice."
I nodded. This wasn't something to try explaining to a bunch of teenage boys.
"We can run relays on Wednesday. Only takes one coach."
"Life doesn't stop,” I said, quiet, not looking at him. I snagged a sweater and pulled it over my head. I don't know if he picked up on the echo of his earlier conversation with Lil. When my head emerged from the collar, he was pouring cream into a cup of coffee.
We spent the next hour feeling around the inner bruises and trying to figure out where the whole mess left us. A lull in conversation stretched tight over something he wanted to ask, but I wasn't sure I wanted to answer, so I shuffled over to the couch when he gathered the mugs and brought them to the sink. I supposed it would be easier for him if I wasn't sitting across from him, watching the way his nerves clenched his fingers into fists he repeatedly had to flatten out onto the tabletop.
"I never would have left you alone with him, Paul. I didn't know he would."
I waited. Seemed that was the end of the sentence, though. “Not your fault,” I said at last. “He wasn't always like that, you know.” I wanted to say he had been like Lil, when we started. Strong, in charge, good to me. But from what I'd seen the past day and a half, Carl was nothing like Lil. Brian wasn't afraid to ask for what he wanted. He'd asked Lil to help me, knowing Lil hated my guts, and he hadn't worried about reprisals. No. Carl was nothing like Lil. I wanted what Brian had. Maybe that's what I'd been looking for. And why I'd hung on so long.
"Bri?” I twisted a bit to look over the back of the couch at him. Brian turned around. “If he comes—"
As if on cue, someone knocked on the
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